Page 3 of Unstoppable You (Sapph in the City #6)

Chapter Three

Delaney

To say I was furious at James for ruining my post-Pilates endorphin high was an understatement. I was LIVID. It was a struggle when I got home not to trash my entire apartment or scream until my neighbors called the cops.

Instead, I rage-shopped online, finally buying the skirt I’d had my eye on for ages, as well as a special edition hardcover with sprayed edges from an author that I was obsessed with. You’d think being a bookseller that I would get sick of books, but it had had the opposite effect on me. I couldn’t get enough of them.

Someday, if I ever managed to get my hands on a bunch of money, I was going to buy a house and devote the entire place to books. There wouldn’t be a single wall that wasn’t covered in books. Obviously there wouldn’t be any in the bathroom, but I’d already picked out the perfect bookish wallpaper.

Someday.

Thinking about my book house was much more fun than thinking about James. Fucking James. Why did she have to choose now to show back up in my life? Was this some kind of cosmic punishment? Hadn’t one member of her family already ruined my month enough?

At least Connor hadn’t contacted me today. He’d still been randomly sending me messages, which was funny because he’d barely sent any when we’d been together unless he was asking me to do something for him.

Figuring I might as well channel my rage into being productive, I opened my laptop and pulled up my current orders. Printing labels and packing orders took up some time, and then I decided to do another print run to replenish my stock. Using the screen-printing press definitely helped get out my aggression a little bit. The machine took up a bunch of space in my living room, but I’d just bought a smaller couch. It was fine. I made it work.

Time got away from me as I lost myself in the repetitive tasks. There was an old-fashioned soothing quality to printing shirts and bags. Of lifting the plate and seeing the design that I had created and stamped myself. Once I was satisfied with my productivity for the day, I devoted the rest of my night to reading and eating the soup dumplings I’d been saving in my freezer.

Reflexively I kept glancing at my phone, as if I was waiting for a message to come in from one or both of the St. Clair siblings. I wouldn’t put it past James to get my number from her brother and use it to harass me.

I did get a message from Larison asking how my weekend went, though. Much more welcome.

I’ll tell you tomorrow. It’s too much to type or put in a voice message.

This James situation had to be discussed in person. Mondays were generally terrible, but I honestly loved my job about ninety percent of the time and Larison would not believe my weekend encounter.

Oh goodness, now my curiosity is piqued and I need to know just a little bit. Don’t keep me in suspense!

I laughed.

I’ll just say that I had a blast from the past. That’s all I can say without getting into it.

Well, I’m completely intrigued and on the edge of my seat. Jo would like to tell you that she wants to know too, so we might have to put her on video.

That happened a lot. Jo was still finishing her degree to become a reading and literacy teacher, but sometimes she’d call in between her classes to check in. It was so sweet. I’d always been envious of their relationship and how they supported each other. I couldn’t even get Connor to respond to a simple message let alone get him on video during the day. He was always too busy doing something else.

I’d told myself that was true. He was too busy. It wasn’t fair of me to have such high expectations.

Now I didn’t know what to think anymore.

* * *

Larison didn’t disappoint when I told her about James appearing in my Pilates class. I’d never really mentioned James much, because she wasn’t a part of Connor’s life. She’d been so adamant that she was never fucking coming back when she got accepted to college in Boston. Yet here she was.

A small part of me, the smallest part, wondered what had happened to bring her back. Was it a breakup? Had she gotten fired? Was she running from the law?

The curiosity was small and quiet, but it still sat in a corner of my brain and yapped too loudly for my liking.

As if Larison had heard my thoughts, she asked, “I wonder why she came back, if she felt that strongly about leaving and cutting everyone off?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

Larison nodded as we both worked side-by-side to check the shelves and make sure the shop was ready to open for the day. She asked me if I should tell my parents about James being back and I shook my head immediately. They’d want to know everything and try and get us to reconcile, and that was not happening. Hell to the no.

James, Connor, and I had grown up in the suburbs only minutes from the city, so it was still like a small town where you saw familiar faces at the gas station. My mom worked at the town office and my dad was a retired math teacher who now did small engine repairs, so neither of them was good at holding in any good gossip. I loved them, but neither of them could shut up if their lives depended on it.

“Well, hopefully you won’t have to run into her again. Maybe she won’t come back to that class and will leave you alone?” Larison said, flipping the sign from CLOSED to OPEN and unlocking the door.

“One can only hope,” I said. My hopes had never been lower.

* * *

For a Monday, it wasn’t a bad one. I’d had a long discussion about romance books that had tentacles with one woman, and then had helped a very shy teen (who I hoped wasn’t skipping school) find some queer romances. Larison’s daughter stopped by with her nanny and brought treats for all of us, and Jo came by in the afternoon when her classes were finished so I had to recount the whole James situation again for her.

“What a small world,” she said, shaking her head and pushing her clear-framed glasses further up her nose.

“Not that small, apparently.”

It wasn’t like me to be so grumbly and grumpy and I didn’t like the person that the breakup had turned me into.

For sure I was still my normal self with the customers, but it was an additional strain in a way that it hadn’t been before. I’d always liked people, had always enjoyed being around them. My mom used to joke that if you looked up “extrovert” in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of my face.

I’d almost been like an addict when I was younger. So desperate to never, ever be alone. Since I didn’t have any siblings, I would sneak into my parents’ room, and when I was too big for them not to notice me in their bed, I’d sleep on the small couch that they usually put laundry on. Sleepovers had been my absolute favorite and I’d done whatever I could to get myself invited to as many as possible. Some kids at school made note of my desperation (I wasn’t as good at hiding it) and school got rough for a while as the girls I’d been friends with turned on me for being “weird” and “obsessed” with them.

James had been one of the first ones to notice and I heard her loudly talking to some other girls in the locker room when I was changing for gym. Swallowing down nausea, I’d stayed in the stall until they’d left and had been punished for being late to gym, but it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t until high school that I found more loyal friends and people who didn’t think I was a freak. Most of them had gone off to different colleges or moved to other states, but we still kept in touch every now and then online and through messages.

“You’re frowning a lot for a Monday,” Larison said, interrupting my ruminating in the late afternoon.

“Sorry. Just thinking about too many things.”

Larison made a face. “I know what you mean. My brain never seems to slow down. Are you feeling any better about…everything?” She didn’t need to clarify what she meant by “everything.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She winced. “Sorry for bringing it up.”

Larison was an incredible friend, as well as a boss. We had clicked in the first interview, but I never could have known how important she would become to me.

“Thanks.”

“Why don’t you go and check on the online orders? I’m sure some came in over the weekend.”

Doing work in the back office was my least favorite thing, but I was tired, and it was almost the end of the day anyway.

I got totally wrapped up in my task of filling the orders. I’d have to make a trip to the post office tomorrow to ship everything out. If I did that, I could stop by the bubble tea place and get a treat.

“Hey,” Larison said, making me jump. Why was I so out of it lately? “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. But we’re ready to close down.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Her face crinkled with worry that I didn’t want to see, so I went back to stacking the orders in the “ready to ship” box.

* * *

I did my best to focus on my routine of going to the grocery store and bringing everything home to have a nice dinner that night, but instead I bought a party tray with veggies, cheese, and crackers and ate it on the couch with a really bad reality show on in the background. Cooking could wait until tomorrow.

My phone lit up with a notification just as I was eating the last grape. I had a new message on one of my social pages from an account I didn’t recognize.

Hey Delaney, this is James. I wasn’t sure how else to reach out to you. Didn’t want to ask my brother for your number. He and I are not on the same page about a lot of things so I’m ignoring him at the moment. Anyway, I just wanted to reach out and see if maybe you’d let me buy you a cup of coffee? There are some things I’d like to say to you that I think should be said in person. Just let me know.

I almost gasped aloud at her audacity. I mean, at least she’d waited almost one whole day before reaching out to me, and she hadn’t begged her brother for my number. Still, it wasn’t cute, and I wanted to answer her right away telling her to go fuck herself, but something made me hold back and resist the impulse to burn this bridge completely.

Maybe I felt the teeniest, smallest sliver of compassion because while Connor was now my ex, he was still her brother. There was no getting out of that relationship, even if they never spoke a single word to each other again. She’d always be connected to him.

And he was one of the biggest assholes on the planet.

The freedom I had now that I no longer had to defend him was a little shot of euphoria in amongst the rage and hurt and disappointment.

I read the message several times over, wondering what to say. I didn’t want to have coffee with her. Didn’t want to hear what she had to say, but…

If I didn’t sit down with her and let her get whatever off her chest, then I knew I’d always wonder what it might have been. I wasn’t sure if I believed in regrets, but in my soul, I knew that I would be upset at myself for telling her to fuck off again.

It had been years since we’d had any contact. I was a different person now, and it was a little arrogant to believe that she hadn’t changed as well. If I didn’t hear her out, just this once, then I’d never know what she might have said.

Fine. We can meet somewhere for coffee. You are buying. I have the freedom to leave the second I want to. You’re also getting a fifteen-minute time limit. That is more than enough time to say what you need to say. Understood?

I sent the message and waited for her response.

That’s all fine. Let me know when a good time for you would be.