Page 23 of Just a Number (Magnolia Row #2)

RHODES

T he next few weeks fly by as I travel from Memphis to Louisville to Atlanta and Nashville.

I even have a trip to New Orleans the week before Thanksgiving.

Each of these projects is so unique and I’m absolutely loving getting to see these old buildings and dreaming about how we can bring each one back to life.

It’s exhilarating, not to mention validating every business decision I’ve made since I left my corporate job.

Professionally, I’m having the time of my life.

Still, I miss Micah. This travel has taken me away from her, and I can’t help but feel like she’s slipping away.

When we text, it takes her a while to reply.

She usually answers when I call, but she seems distant and distracted.

Part of me thinks she still may be seeing that other guy, which wouldn’t technically be a betrayal since we haven’t defined what it is we’re doing.

I really have no right to expect anything from her.

I just cannot stop thinking about our kiss. It was nuclear. That has to be a sign, right?

But what do I know? I’ve been out of the dating game for decades, and even before I was married, I had very little experience. This is all brand new for me.

I finally have a break while I’m waiting for responses to all the proposals I’ve sent out, so I decide to drive to Magnolia Row for the weekend.

We’re finally into October, so the heat isn’t as oppressive as it was when I first started traveling there.

In addition to seeing Micah, I’ll finally get a chance to see the progress on the hotel.

Jaxon found some great local contractors to work with and all our permits and plans were approved, so we’re full speed ahead.

I call Micah the weekend before to see if she’ll be able to see me.

“Oh!” she says when I tell her my plans. “Um, I may be able to. I’ll have to see.”

This really throws me off. She’s all I have been able to think about since I left Magnolia Row. Did she not feel the fireworks when we kissed? Was all it in my head? Maybe I’ve already screwed things up before they even really got going. Maybe she finally realized I’m probably too old for her.

“If you have plans,” I say, “don’t feel obliged. I really enjoyed the last night we spent together. I thought you did too.”

“I did,” she says. Her voice is softer and I feel her guard come down a bit. “I do want to see you.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes.” This time I can hear the smile in her voice, and my muscles relax. I didn’t realize how tense I’d been until that point.

“Great! My schedule is pretty flexible, so let me know what works for you.”

“Let’s plan on Saturday night,” she says, her voice finally sounding a bit lighter.

“Sounds good. I can’t wait to see you, Micah.”

“Same,” she says, and we hang up.

I pour myself a glass of red wine, then cross my empty, sterile apartment and look out at the horizon of twinkling city lights. The city is bustling, Red Mountain is illuminated in the distance, and the streets below are crowded with people dining, drinking, and enjoying the beautiful night.

And all I want is to get in my car and drive straight to Micah.