Dream On(10)



Too bad she’s never met me.

I pick up her bag by its stiff leather handles and place it on the floor next to her chair. Despite my quiet, smooth movement, the woman jerks. Turning her head slowly, she stares at me, icy blue eyes full of sparks. Wait, do I know her?

Narrowing my eyes, I study her airbrushed complexion and delicate features. Did we go to law school together? High school? The wash of recognition passes, and I shake my head. No, I don’t think we’ve met before. “Excuse me.” I offer her a tight smile as I pull out the chair and assume the now-empty seat.

“No problem.” Her voice is light and musical, but her lips curl as she pulls her bag onto her lap, snaps it closed, and sets it on the floor on the opposite side of her—away from me. The other summer associates glance furtively our way. One lanky young associate with a crew cut and a thickly starched shirt scratches his nose, covering a smirk.

Yeah, I’ve got your number, Allred.

Pulling a legal pad and pen from my bag, I tuck it under the table and cross my legs just as Glenn Boone begins his welcome speech.



* * *



Early evening sunshine filters through the glass walls of the lobby as I step out of the elevator. “Have a good night,” I call to David, the receptionist. Despite the fact that he was a willing participant in Glenn’s joke earlier, I want to get off on the right foot with everyone here. Best to stay on his good side.

David’s head snaps up and he adjusts his glasses. “Thanks. You too.”

Edging through the doors, I pull out my phone. I already have a text from Brie.

How did your first day go?



Fingers flying across the screen, I respond.

It was… a day



Good or bad?



Mostly good. I met the other summer associates and they were all cool (except one, but whatevs).



Tomorrow we get our practice group assignments.



So yeah, a good first day, I guess!



Woo-hoo! Let’s celebrate tonight! I’m thinking… takeout & champagne?



YES PLEASE! I’ll pick up some champers on the way home.



Home. Because I have a home here, in the quaint Ohio City district of downtown Cleveland, with my best friend in the whole wide world.

HERO.



bows



Be home in 30… see you soon!



Tucking my phone into my bag, I grin at the cloud-dappled sky. So this is what normal feels like. I’d nearly forgotten. I’ve started a new job at one of the top firms in town like a normal twentysomething—it might not be the permanent job I’d hoped for but it’s a job nonetheless. And nobody stared at me with pity or asked how I’m doing in hushed tones of sympathy. Plus? I haven’t had a single Devin episode today. It’s official: after a year of painstaking recovery, my luck is finally turning around. Heck, maybe I’ll even meet someone new this summer—someone real this time.

I snort. Okay, that might be a stretch. “Big law” life, working for a large, high-revenue law firm, doesn’t exactly leave a lot of room for socializing. But, hey, you never know what the future has in store, right? And after a day like today, I’m feeling just about ready for anything.





I take the long way back to my neighborhood along the Cuyahoga River, soaking in the fresh air and sunshine. A quick Google search reveals that Dave’s Markets is the closest purveyor of champagne, so I walk the extra few blocks to the store, splurge on a twenty dollar bottle of champagne and several bags of M&M’s—because every good celebration needs chocolate—and stash my purchases in my tote bag. Outside, I take a deep breath through my nose, preparing to head home, but freeze.

I know that scent. I inhale deeply again to confirm the delicately floral yet achingly familiar smell. Lilies.

My favorite flower. And not just because I thought make-believe Devin bought me a bouquet of lush white lilies on our first date. I’ve loved them since I was a kid—their silken, oversized petals and a scent that transports you to sun-soaked gardens full of mystery and beauty.

I glance around automatically for the source and spot a dusky purple Victorian house tucked along the nearest side street, sandwiched between a squat brick building and a historic home, both with Foreclosure signs out front. Blooms & Baubles is printed in large letters above the Victorian’s front door and a sign in the window proclaims Open in red block letters. A flower shop. That certainly explains the lilies. Shifting my weight, I run my tongue along the edge of my teeth.

That’s it, I’m doing it. I’m going to buy myself some flowers. Because I have another success to celebrate: I did not have a Devin episode just now. I thought of him, sure. But I didn’t drown in a whirlpool of fake flashbacks. Yesterday might have involved a minor setback, but my “struggles,” as Mom likes to put it, are well on their way to existing solely in the past. And I’m going to prove it—if not to her, at least to myself.

The crisp scent of flowers grows stronger as I approach the shop and okay, this place is adorable. An assortment of bouquets fills the window display along with art prints dangling on wires and a small shelf of colorful ceramic vases. Looped purple script on the bay window proclaims, “Flowers, gifts, and more. Let us brighten your day!”

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