Page 30 of All This Time

“It’s sad that you’re counting.”

He locks his eyes with me and says, “I’ll always remember what you say to me.” Tapping his temple, he continues, “Every. Single. Word.” As my mouth drops open, he slams my car door shut and waves at me through the window. “Bye, Laney! Talk to you soon!”

I start my car as fast as I can, pulling out of the parking lot while my mind spins from his words.

He remembers everything I’ve ever said to him? Is he referring tothatnight? And if so, does that mean he still thinks about it too?

Or is this all a game to him? A test to see if he still has that kind of power over me. Spoiler alert: he does.

I don’t even need to glance in the rearview mirror to clearly envision the smug grin on his lips as he stands there, watching me drive away, knowing how easily he just fucked with my head.

But at least this time he has to watch me leave. Because he didn’t get that luxury last time—when I walked away for good, heart in pieces, because I was stupid enough to think he felt the same way I did.

Now, if only my heart would catch up to the decision my brain made all those years ago… These next three weeks would be much easier to get through.

Chapter 7

Laney

Massages, Manicures, and a Banana

“Good morning!” Yvonne glides through the front door of the salon on Monday morning, looking much happier than usual.

“Well, apparently it is foryou,” I reply.

Chuckling, she walks past me to the break room to put away her things, so I follow her. “Oh, it is. My first client today has the body of a Greek god, and I can’t wait to get my hands on him.” She wiggles her fingers like she’s already kneading divine biceps.

I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest. “I thought massage therapists weren’t supposed to ogle their clients.”

She waves me off as she moves to the fridge and puts her lunch inside. “Oh, Laney. Anyone in the industry who says they don’t appreciate what they’re working with is a liar.” She turns and faces me with a satisfied grin on her lips. “Besides, I think you might agree that withthisclient, ogling is unavoidable.”

It takes a few seconds, but when it dawns on me, the smile falls from my face. “Oh God. It’s…”

“Lucifer is coming today!” she exclaims, brushing past me toward her massage room.

I face-palm my forehead. “Jesus, I forgot.”

“That’s surprising. You usually check the schedule when you come in.”

She’s right. Idousually check the schedule when I open the salon for the day. But ever since Fletcher came back in town, everything has been thrown off and my thoughts have just been one tornado after another, leaving destruction and distraction in their wake.

Yesterday I spent most of the day at home, bingeingGrey’s Anatomyjust to check out for a while. And apparently, it worked—because Fletcher’s appointments completely slipped my mind.

My mood turns instantly as I head back to my station, catching my reflection in the mirror, adjusting my black tunic and slacks, the same outfit all employees wear. The uniform helps us look polished, adding to the upscale vibe I wanted for my salon.

“Hey, boss.” Claudia strides through the front door next, followed by Glenn.

“Today’s the day, Laney! Lucifer is coming!” Glenn bounces with excitement. “Do you think I can talk Fletcher into letting me cut his hair while he’s here?”

I point a finger at him. “Go put a dollar in the jar.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “Gladly.” And as he heads toward the break room, he repeats, “Fletcher, Fletcher, Fletcher!!!”

“That’s four dollars now!” I call after him. Claudia is still standing next to me when I turn back to my mirror. “Yes?”

“This guy really gets to you, huh?”

Just her asking that question makes my shoulders fall. “Let’s just say that growing up with him makes him way more normal—and annoying—to me than he is to the general population. I just think it’s ridiculous how people fawn over him. I mean, he’s a regular guy that gets sock lint stuck between his toes like the rest of us.”