Thirty-Nine: Harlow

THIRTY-NINE

HARLOW

Hey…You randomly disappeared tonight. You okay?

No. Meet me outside.

We need to talk.

(Jerry will handle the twins.)

I’m on my way.

I zipped up my jacket and took the elevator downstairs.

Pierce was standing in front of his newest car, looking straight ahead.

“Hey,” I said. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes. Something is very wrong.” He didn’t make eye contact with me. “I’m sure you can guess what the problem is.”

He knows?

“You’re just going to stand there?” he asked. “You have nothing to say for yourself?”

“I was planning to tell you.”

“When?”

“Eventually.”

“So, never ,” he said, opening the passenger door. “Get in so we can discuss this.”

I obliged, and he remained silent as he drove, never looking over at me.

He circled the same four blocks until pulling into a space near Central Park. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me against his side.

When we neared the fountain, he finally looked at me.

“I can’t believe you were going to let it slip by,” he said. “There must be a part of you that doesn’t believe I’m serious about this relationship.”

“No, I didn’t want to tell you because—” I caught myself. “Wait. What are you talking about?”

“Your birthday.”

“That’s not for another few weeks.”

“You have everyone’s marked in the shared calendars, except yours.”

“Because it’s never been that big of a deal to me.”

“That’s a shame. You should make a big deal, and if I were you, I would pursue baking as a profession sooner than later.”

“You want me to quit working for you?”

“I didn’t say that.” He smiled. “I’m sure that’s inevitable once people realize how well you make sweets, though.”

We stopped walking as we approached my dream storefront.

I pressed my hand against the glass and peered inside.

“I swear I notice something new every time I come here,” I said. “The for sale sign is five inches lower today.”

“That sign shouldn’t be there at all.”

“What do you mean?”

He held up a set of keys. “I bought it for you this morning.”

WHAT? I stared at him, shaking my head.

“Happy early birthday, Harlow.”

“Please don’t joke with me like this…”

“I would never.” He pressed the keys into my hand. “You officially own it, and there’s an escrow account set up for the next fifteen years for the property taxes,” he said. “The kitchen equipment should be here next week, but that’s all I’m giving you.”

“That’s everything .” I swallowed.

“I thought it was better than my original gift idea.” He pulled a small box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a diamond cupcake necklace.

He motioned for me to turn around so he could drape it around my neck.

Locking the clasp, he pressed a long kiss against my skin.

“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so fucking much…”

“You’re welcome.” He kissed me again. “Hurry up and open the door so I can help you christen every surface inside…”