Page 40 of Fair Ball

Except a smiling woman, waiting for me when I open the door to my condo. “Surprise!”

I set down my bag and kick off my shoes. “What are you still doing here?”

“I wanted to see you. See what you thought of the place.” Millie lifts her hands, gesturing to her work.

And it’s the worst thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. I thought when she said she’d decorate, she meant, like…plants or art. But the entire place has gone from beige and white to a rainbow of color.

“Come on. I’ll give you a tour.” She tugs on my forearm when I don’t move. She pulls me to the kitchen, which is painted yellow. Her favorite color. I don’t actually know, but I’m guessing because she wears a lot of it. “With the windows here, I thought this soft yellow was really nice. There will be no seasonal depression in sight, even in winter.” She points to the bowl of lemons. “These are fake.” Then to the small pots in the corner. “These are not. Rosemary, sage, and chamomile are all good for inflammation. I did research on growing them, so don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

She walks past the three dark-yellow stools at the eat-in counter, fingertips dragging along the tops, to the living room, which still has that same pale-yellow color on the walls, but the floor has piles of plush rugs and beanbags. She stands among the new furniture that is not the dark leather that used to be here but is now a mismatch of green, cream, blue, and a wicker chair hanging from the ceiling. There’s a tall plant in the corner by Harold’s cage, along with big, framed photos of… “Where’s this?”

“Some island. I don’t know. I chose it for the vibes.”

“For the vibes,” I repeat, hands in my pockets.

“I think Harold likes it too.” She makes her way toward him with a treat, which he happily accepts. “Feel like home yet?”

I swallow and clear my throat, offering a noncommittal sound.

“There’s more. And don’t worry, it’s not all beach and lemons everywhere.” Her smile has me trailing after her to the squawk of the bird calling me a dickhead. At least not everything changed.

The half bathroom has gold accents now because “it felt expensive,” according to Millie, and I guess with free rein of my credit card, it was. The guest bedroom has been transformed from an empty space to one with walls painted something called burnt umber and a navy headboard on a bed that is covered with pillows. She takes a running leap onto it, her bare feet wiggling as she pats the space next to her. I hesitantly lie down, my hands folded across my stomach.

“You really like wallpaper,” I note, taking in the new “tin copper” on the ceiling.

“Yeah. Is that weird?” I feel her attention on me, so I turn to find her eyes huge and begging. “Do you hate it? It’s okay if you do. I can change it.”

“Don’t change it,” I tell her, earning a grin that makes my heart ache while easing the tension that had settled in my chest for the last hour since I spoke with Malcolm.

“I was really nervous. Excited too because it was so much fun to do, but I know you’re a bachelor and were probably expecting something different. Cow hides or plaid.”

“Cow hides?”

She tosses her hands out. “I don’t know what single guys from North Carolina like. Beer and rodeo?”

“Millie.” I curl my lips over my teeth and shake my head, which only makes her smile wider. As if she’s proud she can make me break, even though I try to hide it.

“You ready to see your room?”

“It’s not beer and rodeo, is it?”

“No.” She laughs and takes my hand, directing me next door. The whole thing is dark teal with matching curtains over the windows. “These are blackout.” She pulls them shut to darken the room before pivoting to me expectantly, her fingers tangled together, thumb rubbing over her knuckle as I spin a slow circle to finally face the bed with a gray comforter, new side tables, and patterned wallpaper that has gold lines all over it, no rhyme or reason to the design.

“I wanted it to be cozy and soothing and restful,” she explains, and I nod.

“I love it.”

She presses up on her toes. “Do you really?”

No, I don’t, but I love anything she loves, so I guess I love the color teal and patterned wallpaper now.

Millie closes the distance between us, lifting her arms like she wants to hug me, but she drops them and closes them over her torso at the last moment. “I’m so glad. Makes me feel like I’m actually doing something as your assistant.”

“You do a lot for me.”

She waves away my words, but I reach for her wrist as she moves to brush past me. “Millie.”

She tilts her lovely brown eyes up to me, and her face, so honest and open, is the best thing I’ve seen all week. Since I last saw her. I skim my thumb over her knuckles, too light for what she likes, but it’s enough for me to know she’s real.