It’s not over until it’s over. We thought yesterday was it, then we thought today might be it, and now there’s a chance it’ll freeze tonight . . . Like in the movie Groundhog Day, we seem stuck on Boiling Day.
—Colton Abbott’s sugaring journal, April 17
As the workweek dragged along, Lucy felt like she was marching through hip-deep snow and getting nowhere fast. Her attention issues hadn’t been this acute in years, and even double doses of her daily meds couldn’t break through the fog in her brain as she tried to concentrate on a mountain of work while her heart and mind were on a whole other mountain six hours away.
She’d begun to live for the nightly calls from Colton, which went on for hours and hours. Last night she’d finally ended the call with him at two a.m. when her eyes refused to stay open for another second. Thank God it was finally Friday, and she was picking him up at eight at LaGuardia for a whole week together.
She was far too excited about his visit for a girl who hadn’t planned to get involved. So much for plans. She had one more meeting to get through before she could put a fork in this useless week and get on with the weekend with him. She’d bought hard-to-get, expensive tickets to the Broadway show Book of Mormon for tomorrow night and had reservations for dinner afterward at a new place uptown that she’d heard great things about. Lucy couldn’t wait to show him her city and to see his reactions to a place that was as far removed from his reality as it was possible to get and still be in the same country.
Her phone chimed with a text from Colton: On the way to Burlington. Can’t wait to see you. A whole week! Mmm.
Lucy’s smile nearly broke her face in half. Their use of the word mmm had become a regular thing on the phone this week, and it never failed to turn her on. Can’t wait to see you too! Seven more hours. Hurry up.
I’m hurrying.
Determined to soldier through the two-hour lunch meeting with one of their best and biggest clients, Lucy gathered her files and headed for the conference room where the rest of her team was already gathered. Melanie Upton owned Mel’s Cupcakes in the Village and had hired them to help take her booming business national via a new website.
They were about halfway through the planning process and had miles to go before the site would launch, but they all looked forward to their meetings with Mel because of the box of cupcakes she always brought with her.
“Everything okay, boss lady?” asked Diana, the woman they’d hired to replace Cameron, as if anyone could replace Cam. But Diana, who’d once been a competitor, was doing a decent job of bringing in new business, so Lucy couldn’t complain. If she’d made an effort to keep their relationship strictly professional, it was only because she hadn’t had time to get to know Diana better.
Or that’s what she told herself. Truthfully, Diana was a glaring reminder that Cameron was gone for good, and Lucy resented the other woman’s presence in the office. Mature, right? Yeah, she was working on it, but at least she could recognize her own limitations, which was rather evolved of her if she did say so herself. Naturally, Diana had picked up on the hint of chill coming from her boss and had gone out of her way to be extra nice, which only aggravated Lucy more. No one ever said she was perfect.
“Everything’s fine,” Lucy said in answer to Diana’s question. Sometimes she wanted to tell her to just be quiet and leave her alone, but she wasn’t that immature. “Why?”
“No reason. You’ve just seemed out of sorts this week. I thought you’d be all rested and relaxed after your time off.”
“I am rested. And relaxed.”
Diana was tall with raven-black hair that fell in waves around her shoulders, which only made Lucy resent her more. She’d taken Cam’s place and she had great hair and a kick-ass style that would stir the envy of any fashion-challenged woman. It was too much to be borne. “Great,” Diana said with a friendly smile. She never gave up. Lucy had to give her credit for that.
Mel arrived a short time later in a burst of excitement and energy. At just over five feet tall, she made up for her lack of stature with a big personality they all enjoyed. Today she wore her honey-colored hair in a messy bun and had a dab of flour on her cheek from the morning’s baking frenzy that began every day at four a.m. She’d brought sushi for lunch and cupcakes for dessert.
“Have we mentioned that you’re our all-time most favoritest client?” Lucy asked as she devoured a couple of California rolls. She’d been so distracted this week that she’d missed quite a few meals and was famished.
“You only say that because of the cupcakes,” Mel said with the engaging grin that had made her a friend as well as a client.
“That is so not true,” Lucy replied.
“Oh, whatever!”
Two hours into the meeting, Lucy’s stomach began to hurt. What started as an ache quickly morphed into sharp pains and severe nausea. Around the conference table, she noticed the other members of her team were unusually pale and sweaty looking.
“Does anyone else feel like shit?” Diana asked.
“Oh my God,” Mel said. “My stomach is killing me.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she was running from the room with her hand over her mouth.
“Fuck,” Diana said with a moan, speaking for all of them.
“Everyone go home,” Lucy said as a wave of nausea hit her. “Lock up and go.”
The staff cleared out, and Mel returned to the conference room looking green around the edges. “I’m so sorry, Lucy. I get sushi from that place all the time, and I’ve never had a problem before.”
“Not your fault. Go on home before it gets worse.”
“I’m so sorry again. I’ll call you next week.”
“Sounds good.” Feeling worse by the second, Lucy ran for her office to grab her purse and phone and was hailing a cab at the curb when lunch came roaring back up, leaving her heaving into a sidewalk trash can while people on the street made a wide berth around her. She’d never been so violently ill in her life, even after a few unfortunate drinking episodes during her misspent youth. When the vomit finally stopped coming, she stood upright, the sidewalk swimming before her eyes and the heat making her feel even sicker.
She held up her arm weakly. “Taxi. Please. Taxi.” As one of one of New York’s famous yellow cabs came to a stop in front of her, she crawled into the backseat and gave the driver her address. “Hurry.”
“Are you high or something?” the driver asked in broken English. “Don’t want no drugs in my car.”
“Not drugs,” Lucy assured him. “Food poisoning.”
“Don’t want that neither.”
“Believe me, I don’t either. Drive fast and end the misery for both of us.”
He drove like the car was on fire and got her home in record time.
Lucy handed him a twenty and didn’t wait for her change. She didn’t have the time. The two flights of stairs that led to her third-floor apartment seemed like a mountain, and she was sweating profusely by the time she made it to the third-floor landing. She pushed open the door, dropped her purse on the floor inside the door and ran for the bathroom.
The plane landed ten minutes late, which was maddening to Colton after days of counting the hours until eight o’clock Friday night. Then it took forever for people to gather all the crap they’d brought on the plane and get the hell off. By the time he reached the terminal, it was nearly twenty after eight, and he hated that he’d made her wait.
He jogged through the crowds, dodging vehicles and luggage and strollers and general Friday night mayhem in the busiest airport he’d ever been in. Will had warned him about what to expect in the city, but even with preparation, the crowds were overwhelming.
Lucy planned to meet him at baggage claim, since he’d had to check a bag to bring the clothes he needed for a week. Colton took the escalator downstairs but didn’t see her bright auburn hair anywhere in the sea of humanity that surrounded him. He collected his bag off the carousel and moved out of the fray to call her. The phone rang and rang before her voicemail picked up.
“Hey, Luce. I’m here. Wondering where you are. Give me a call or text to let me know.”
He waited expectantly for the next fifteen minutes, scanning the crowd all the while and looking for the distinctive hair he’d know anywhere. After half an hour had passed, he began to get worried and called her again. No answer.
This wasn’t at all what he’d expected, and he had no idea what to do. He didn’t even know exactly where she lived. When the clock struck nine and she was officially an hour late, he called Cameron.
Her “hello” was hesitant.
“Hey, it’s me, Colton.”
“Oh hi. I didn’t recognize the number. What’s up? I thought you were going to New York today?”
“I’m in New York, at LaGuardia, actually, but Lucy’s a no-show, and her phone is going right to voicemail.”
“That’s weird. She could be stuck in Friday night traffic with a dead cell phone.”
The possibility brought relief. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“Give her another hour and then grab a cab to her place.”
“I’m afraid I have no idea where she lives.”
“I’ll text you the address.”
“Thanks, Cam.”
“Try not to worry. Anything is possible in New York.”
“You don’t think . . .”
“What?”
He looked down at the floor, unsure of how to say the words that had been circulating in his mind since he realized she wasn’t there. “That she’s changed her mind about me?”
“Not that I’m aware of, and even if she had, she wouldn’t do it this way. I probably don’t have to tell you that Lucy’s a straight shooter. She doesn’t play games. If she didn’t want to see you, she would’ve told you so.”
“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just being paranoid.”
“Long-distance relationships will do that to you. But remember, this is Lucy we’re talking about. What you see is what you get. I promise she’s been delayed and is probably freaking out because she knows you’re waiting for her. She’ll come running in there any second.”
“Thanks, Cam. Appreciate the pep talk.”
“Let me know when you connect with her, okay? I’ll be worried until I hear.”
“I will.”
“Have a great time this week.”
“Thanks again.”
Colton took Cameron’s advice and gave it another hour. He tried to reach Lucy several more times with no luck, so at ten he hailed a cab and gave the address Cameron had texted him. On the way he thought about Cameron and how quickly she’d become a good friend to his entire family. Will was lucky to have such a great woman in his life. There was nothing about her not to love. Well, unless you were Megan, that is.
Thinking about something other than where Lucy might be kept Colton from going insane on the long ride from Queens into Manhattan, through traffic unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Forty-five minutes after he left the airport, the cab pulled up to Lucy’s place in Soho, information Cameron had included in her text.
He paid the fifty-dollar fare and got his bag from the trunk before the cab pulled away. It was now three hours after Lucy was supposed to meet him, and he’d begun to feel seriously anxious about her safety more than an hour ago. While he’d tried not to go to worst-case scenario, what other reason could there be for her to fail to show up at the airport when she’d been so excited to see him earlier in the day?
Someone was coming out of Lucy’s building as he went up the stairs, and the guy held the door for Colton. He suspected that wasn’t cool, but he wasn’t about to mention it when Cameron had warned him it might not be easy to get into her building if she wasn’t home. He trudged up two flights of stairs and saw her door hanging open, keys still in the lock and her purse spilled on the floor.
A sense of unease traveled up his spine, settling into a pang of fear that sent a shiver racing through him. What the hell? He stepped inside her apartment, put down his bags down and called for her. No reply.
Should he proceed or call the police? Knowing she was home and possibly in some sort of trouble had him overruling his sense of caution and moving into the apartment to look for her. He found her out cold on the bathroom floor. A stale odor in the room indicated she’d been sick.
He dropped to his knees beside her, shocked by how ghostly pale she was. The first thing he did was check for a pulse and was relieved to find a steady beat in her neck. “Lucy. Honey. Can you wake up for me?” He got up to wet a washcloth with cool water and ran it over her face. “Luce?”
Her eyes fluttered open for a brief second and then quickly closed again. “You should go to your hotel,” she said so faintly he almost couldn’t hear her. “Don’t want you to see me like this.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m not going anywhere. What happened?”
“Bad sushi.”
“Oh no, honey. How long have you been here?”
“What time is it?”
“Almost eleven.”
“Since three or so.” Her eyes opened again. “The airport. Was supposed to get you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I found you. That’s all that matters.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Don’t want you here for this. So gross.”
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
Her moan was quickly followed by a frantic scramble for the toilet that she could barely manage on her own.
Colton pulled her hair back from her face and held her while she heaved. Her entire body was racked by the effort, which yielded nothing much of anything. “How many times have you been sick, honey?” he asked as he wiped her face again.
“Don’t know. Lost count.” She began to cry in earnest. “I stink so bad and this is so far beyond disgusting.”
He put his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “You don’t stink that bad, and I’ve certainly seen worse than this. There’s no way I’m leaving you when you’re this sick, so deal with it.”
“How did you even find me?”
“Cameron.” Colton propped her up against the wall and turned the water on in the big claw-foot tub.
“What’re you doing?”
“Getting you cleaned up.”
“I can’t . . .”
“You don’t have to do a thing.”
“Colton . . . You should just go to your hotel. I’ll call you when I feel better.”
“Not happening, so you can quit trying to get rid of me.” When the tub was filled with warm water, he shut off the tap and grabbed a towel that was hanging on the back of the door. Then he turned his focus on helping her out of her dress, which had apparently taken a direct hit at some point during the siege.
“You’re never going to want to have sex with me again after this.”
The unexpected comment made him laugh. “You don’t think so? I hate to tell you that’s absolutely untrue. As soon as you’re feeling better, look out.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
He lifted her easily and deposited her gently into the warm water.
She let out a moan of ecstasy. “That feels really good.”
“I had a feeling it might.” Colton used a washcloth to wet her hair, which he washed with products that were sitting on a corner shelf above the tub. “This stuff smells good.”
“It’s my favorite.” She looked up at him. “I haven’t had my hair washed by anyone other than a hairdresser since I was a baby.”
He winked at her. “I’m at your service.”
She reached up to curl her fingers around his wrist. “Thanks.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“Sure it is,” she said with a laugh. “This is exactly the kind of pleasure you had in mind for tonight.”
“Any time I get to spend with you is a pleasure.”
“Even when I’m barfing and too weak to move?”
“Even then.”
“You’re crazy.”
“About you.” The words came so easily that they were out of his mouth before he took a second to consider what he was saying. But he didn’t regret saying it, especially because he made her smile.
“The feeling is quite mutual.”
“Good.”