One Last Job

by Anise Starre

We’re on the fourth floor and the twilight sun peeking through the windows bathes her in a golden glow. She looks almost ethereal.

Hawthorne has bought me lunch for the last four days in a row.

“Did you need something?” You.

I’d give her every last one of my minutes on Earth if it meant I’d never have to see or hear her like that again.

She’s right. It’s not. But I’m not planning to pay for this with the company credit card.

STOP IM SO SOFT

could tell her that it’s because I never want to see her look so frustrated and vulnerable ever again if I can help it. Or that it’s because maybe I want to be her hero right now so she can shine that beautiful smile on me even for just a few seconds.

I add “seeing her blush” to my rapidly growing list of my favourite things about her. It sits right there between “the sound of her laugh” and “that look she gives me when I’ve annoyed her.”

“I like it,” I say with a shrug. “Sounds nice.” Suits you.

I’ve got my elbow propped up on the table, my chin resting in the palm of my hand, my gaze focused solely on her. Can she really not tell how enamoured I am with her?

cared about it because you care about it,”

What I want to do is leap over the table and pull her into my arms. I want to cradle her face in my hands and tell her over and over again that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with her and that anyone who can’t see that isn’t worth her time.

“Well, I hope you find her one of these days.” I wonder how long we’re going to pretend like I haven’t already.

I’ve developed an annoying new habit. Staring. Specifically, staring at Amber.

“You don’t have to do that around me, sweetheart.” I’m not going to dismiss you. I’m not going to make you feel like your wins don’t matter.

That’s my girl.

The only thing I want to see in the sun is her.

I make my way back to the mirror. The woman stood beside it gives me a knowing smile when I hand over my business card and let her know I’ll be in touch soon.

Every time he says it, a little frisson of pleasure shoots through me. I like the way it rolls off his tongue, the way his eyes always find mine, how it feels like more than just a silly little game. Like he really means it.

He took everything in his stride, listened, asked questions, pointed at things that caught his interest and, by the end of it, was even pointing out things that he thought I’d like.

And it doesn’t escape me that he was right in most of his choices. Or how it made my heart skip a beat every time he pointed something out.

HOW CUTE I CANT

the views once you reach the top on a clear day are second to none. Definitely the most beautiful thing you’ll see in the city today.” Hawthorne gives me a slow, deliberate once over. “I doubt that.”

HES SO WEAK FOR HER I CANT

He joins me on the grass but doesn’t come to sit by my side. Instead he sits directly behind me, spreading his legs wide so I’m nestled between his thighs.

they make me so emo please

It feels good being in Hawthorne’s arms. It feels right. Like this is where I’m supposed to be.

I want to say that it was Hawthorne who brought our beanbags closer together one day, but I’m not entirely certain.

One day, after a particularly irritating call with his uncle — a perpetually irritable man who I’ve come to dislike almost as much as Hawthorne does — he closed his laptop and snuggled up to me, resting his head gently on mine. I didn’t make any move to shake him off, and I didn’t want to either.

SHUT THE FUCK UP THEY ARE SO CUTE

When my offer gets accepted on the property I first saw that day we went to collect the chandelier, Hawthorne is the first person I tell.

Or when his sister FaceTimes him when we’re in the office together and he doesn’t think twice about tilting the camera toward me and introducing us like that’s a perfectly normal thing to do.

DOMESTIC BABIES

Can a passion be a person? Because right now she’s the only thing I feel strongly about.

I can’t get enough of him. If kissing Finn is the only thing I do for the rest of my life, I’d die happy and content.

Kissing Finn feels like coming home. It feels good. It feels right.

I look out the window until we turn a corner and Finn disappears from view. My phone buzzes the second he does.

Even from across the room, I can see the way his lips move as he tilts his glass toward me and mouths, “To Amber.”

You look gorgeous, sweetheart. Stunning. Ethereal. Find a thesaurus and take your pick. I could go on all night.

“Two more to go, sweetheart.” He kisses me and grins. “At least.”

I nod and he smiles. It’s a soft smile, a sweet smile, one reserved just for me. For us.

“You’ve made me a better man, honestly. More thoughtful. Considerate. Trusting. And my life is infinitely brighter with you in it.”

Doesn’t she know I’m already hers? Now and forever. There’s no one else. There’s never going to be anyone else. From the moment we first met, it’s always been her.

I could tell her that in three short months she’s somehow burrowed her way into the very depths of my soul and claimed herself a permanent seat in my heart.

I could tell her that I love her with every fibre of my being and the amount of time I’ve spent daydreaming about the life we could have together

“I’m going to marry you one day, Amber.” He says it so simply, like it’s a given fact of life. The sky is blue, the Earth is round and, one day, Finn Hawthorne is going to marry me.