Madison
The afternoon dragged on with back–to–back meetings about the project. By five o’clock, my eyes burned from staring at spreadsheets, and my coffee cup had been empty for hours.
“I need caffeine,” 1 muttered to myself, stretching in my chair..
I headed to the cafeteria, grateful for the chance to move my legs. The space was nearly empty this late in the day.
The coffee machine hummed as I pressed the button for a plain black coffee. While waiting, I scrolled through emails on my phone, deleting the unimportant ones.
Coffee in hand, I made my way back to the executive floor, taking the long route to clear my head. The project was progressing well, but Alexander’s birthday party still loomed in my mind. The blue dress hanging in my closet felt like a statement waiting to be made.
When I returned to my desk outside Alexander’s office, he was standing there reviewing some documents.
“Ms. Harper,” he said without looking up. “Just the person I needed to see.”
“Mr. Knight,” I replied, setting my coffee down. “What can I do for you?”
He handed me a folder. “We need to attend a meeting tomorrow morning at the Riverside location.”
I frowned, flipping through the papers. “Riverside? That’s not the Manhattan Project.”
“No, it’s a potential new development. Commercial property, mixed–use retail and office space.” His tone was all business. “The meeting’s at 9 AM sharp with the current property owners and their representatives.”
“I see.” I scanned the preliminary documents. “Will we need presentation materials?”
“No, this is preliminary. Just fact–finding.” He straightened his tie, his movements precise and controlled. “I want you there to evaluate the potential from a project management perspective.”
“Of course,” I nodded, already mentally rearranging my schedule. “I’ll be prepared.”
“Good.” His eyes met mine briefly. “The car will pick you up at 7:30. The location is approximately an hour from the city, traffic permitting.”
“I’ll be ready,” I assured him, tucking the folder into my bag.
Alexander nodded and turned to leave, then paused. “Ms. Harper?”
“Yes?”
“Wear comfortable shoes. The site tour involves some construction areas.”
I smiled despite myself. “I’ll leave the stilettos at home.”
The corner of his mouth twitched upward before he disappeared into his office.
1/3
By six–thirty, I’d wrapped up my work and headed home, my mind already drifting to the evening ahead. In the quiet of the cab, I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Jackson’s last message from a few days ago.
My thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before I made my decision and dialed his number.
He answered on the third ring. “Madison? Is that you?”
“Hey, Jackson,” I said, suddenly feeling awkward. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Not at all!” His voice brightened. “I was just thinking about you, actually.”
“Were you now?” I smiled, settling back against the seat.
“Well, wondering if you’d checked your schedule for that dinner I mentioned.”
The cab turned onto my street as I replied, “That’s actually why I’m calling. Are you free tonight?”
There was a pause. “Tonight? As in… now?”
“Too last minute?” I asked, paying the driver.
“No!” he said quickly. “No, tonight works. I’m just surprised. You usually plan things weeks in advance.”
I laughed, stepping onto the sidewalk. “Maybe I’m trying something new. Being spontaneous.”
“I like spontaneous Madison,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Where should we meet?”
“I know a great Italian place in the West Village,” I suggested. “Authentic pasta, excellent wine list. Their tiramisu is to die for.”
“Sounds perfect. Text me the address and I’ll meet you there at seven?”
“Seven works. See you then, Jackson.”
“Looking forward to it,” he replied, a hint of surprised pleasure in his voice. “Spontaneous Madison is full of surprises.”
I laughed. “Don’t get used to it. I might be back to color–coded schedules tomorrow.”
After hanging up, I pushed through the lobby doors, nodding to the doorman as I headed for the elevator. The whole way up, I kept second–guessing myself.
My apartment was quiet when I unlocked the door. “Mom?” I called out, setting my purse and work bag on the entry table.
No answer. The living room and kitchen were empty, and her bedroom door stood open, revealing an unoccupied room.
A yellow sticky note on the refrigerator caught my eye: “Gone grocery shopping with Diane from 4B. Back around 7. Leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry! Love, Mom.”
smiled, peeling the note off the fridge. Mom had made friends in the building since moving in, and Diane was her favorite. She was a retired high school English teacher with a book club and a penchant for organic produce.
2/3
After my hectic day, the quiet apartment felt like a luxury. I kicked off my shoes and padded to my bedroom, mentally rifling through my closet for something appropriate for dinner.
I chose dark jeans and a forest green blouse, casual yet polished. After a quick shower, I blow dried my hair and applied minimal makeup: tinted moisturizer, mascata, a swipe of blush, and tinted lip balm.
1 deliberately avoided looking at the blue dress hanging in my closet as I dressed. That was for another night, another man.
I scribbled a quick note for Mom: “Gone out for dinner. Don’t wait up. Love you!” and left it on the kitchen counter where she’d be sure to see it.
By 6:30, I was in a cab heading to Bella Notte, the Italian restaurant tucked away on a charming West Village street. I’d discovered it during a rare free weekend last year and fallen in love with their homemade pasta.
The restaurant came into view, its red awning and twinkling string lights visible from the corner. I paid the driver, including a generous tip, and stepped onto the sidewalk.
The hostess greeted me warmly. “Just one tonight?”
“Actually, I’m meeting someone,” I replied. “Reservation should be under Madison or possibly Jackson?”
She checked her book. “Yes, here we are. He hasn’t arrived yet. Would you like to be seated or wait at the bar?”
“The table is fine, thanks.”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
