She Cheered for His Office Crush, Then Left Her Husband Behind novel · Chapter 3 of 24
Chapter 3: Forty Dollars
Vivian and Tristan shop for Ivy's gift under a thirty-five to forty dollar rule, and she hears him laugh for the first time since March. The analyst photographs them at the register and the senior vice president likes the photo.
On Saturday morning I made Tristan walk three steps behind me in the mall.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because the people who saw us on Thursday can also see us today."
"The mall is forty minutes from the office."
"The analyst lives five minutes from the mall. I've seen his tagged photos. He eats pretzels in the food court every weekend."
Tristan walked three steps behind me.
I had a rule for the gift. I'd written it on the back of my hand in pen, which is how I write rules I intend to follow.
"Between thirty-five and forty dollars," I said, in front of the first store. "Under thirty-five is an insult. Over forty is a confession."
"A confession of what?"
"Of whatever the analyst decides it is."
He stopped at a window and pointed at a cashmere scarf.
"A hundred and sixty dollars."
"Confession."
"It's a scarf."
"It's a scarf that says your boss thought about her neck in October."
His mouth twitched, and he walked on.
In the second store he picked up a pen set in a velvet box.
"Ninety-five," I read off the tag. "It has a certificate of authenticity. Nobody gives a certificate of authenticity to someone he isn't dating."
"It's a pen."
"Put it back."
He put it back with great dignity.
In the third store he held up a small succulent in a ceramic pot. "Twelve dollars."
"Insult."
"It's alive. It's a living thing."
"It says you stopped on your way to the car."
"I did stop on the way to the car."
"Mr. Hayes, I am begging you to understand how an office reads a plant."
Tristan looked at the succulent for a moment. Then, to my surprise, he laughed.
It was short and rough, and it surprised him too.
I hadn't heard it since March.
I filed it as non-billable and kept walking, and I only checked once to make sure he was still three steps behind me.
He was two and a half.
In the fourth store I found it.
It was on an end cap, next to the gift wrap, in a pink box with a clear window.
A label maker. Thirty-nine ninety-nine.
I picked it up and read the box.
"Ivy's desk," I said. "Every drawer has a label. 'Pens, working.' 'Pens, ask first.' I've never seen a woman so happy in a supply closet."
Tristan took the box from my hands and turned it over.
"It prints in three colors," he said.
"Thirty-nine ninety-nine. Within the range."
"Is it a good gift?"
"It's the first gift of the day that isn't a scarf."
"I'm asking about what she'll feel."
I blinked.
It was a fair question and I didn't have a line item for it.
"She'll feel noticed," I said. "In a way that doesn't cost anything."
He nodded slowly and tucked the box under his arm.
We stood in line at the register, three steps apart, which is hard to do in a line.
I had the thought that we looked like strangers who happened to be buying the same pink box.
Then I had a second thought, which was that I had never once in two years picked out a present with him.
He'd bought mine at the last minute. I'd bought his from a list on my phone.
I took the thought out and put it back where I keep my other thoughts.
The cashier scanned the box.
"Thirty-nine ninety-nine."
Tristan reached for his wallet. I got my card out first.
"Absolutely not," I said. "It was my lie."
"It's my gift."
"It's my forty dollars."
"It's thirty-nine ninety-nine."
"Then I'll pay the cent."
He stared at me. I stared back.
The cashier looked up from the register and sighed.
"Do you want a gift receipt," she said, "or are you two together?"
"Gift receipt," we said at the same time.
Behind us, someone behind a very large pretzel cleared his throat.
The analyst.
He was holding his phone at chest level, pointed at us.
"Hi!" I said. "Mr. Hayes needed a second opinion on a gift for Ivy."
"Of course," the analyst said, much too fast. "Yes. Of course he did."
Tristan picked up the bag. I looked at the analyst. The analyst looked at the pretzel.
By the time we reached the parking lot, my phone had buzzed four times.
The photo was in the group chat. The caption said: "Hayes + Stratton + a gift bag at Brantley Mall?? 🛍️👀"
Sixty-three eyes reacted before I got my seat belt on.
Then a sixty-fourth reaction came in.
It was a thumbs-up.
It was from Dennis Tidwell, who had been added to the chat that morning.
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