Free Seven Years of Bad Luck by J.L. Mac

we stood in front of each other at the hospital entrance. I had my hand outstretched to shake his, but he made no attempt to shake my hand.
    Well, Kat, don’t you feel like a blooming idiot in spring.
    “I will take you to your home. You shouldn’t be alone.”
    I shook my head subtly to avoid more pain. “I am quite capable of getting myself back to my apartment Ben. I will be sure to avoid the city buses.” I shot him a half-grin at which he chuckled in response.
    “Fair enough. Would you like me to return you to your car?” I smiled at him while I privately reveled in my small victory over Mr. Pretentious Sex-on-Legs.
    “Yes, please. Thanks.” Once we arrived back at the airport parking lot, I said adieu to Ben after expressing my thanks to him once again. He scribbled down his phone number on a piece of paper and gave it to me with instructions to call him if I needed anything. I didn’t give him my phone number, nor did he ask for it.

 
     
     
    Wednesday, May 15, 2013. Day 218 since Aidan. I slept like the dead after returning from El Paso. I was both physically and emotionally exhausted, and sleep came easily for once. Cheyenne was still in bed shortly after 8 am when I heard a knock on our apartment door. I abandoned my coffee on the kitchen counter and crept to the door.
    I opened the door to a delivery man who held out a clipboard and pen to me.
    “Kathleen Cooper?”
    “Yes, that’s me. What’s this?” I quickly signed for the delivery, which was a rectangular package about the size of a shoe box.
    “Ma’am, do I look like a psychic?” The delivery man drawled in a southern accent.
    I glanced up at the irritating oaf and shook my head. The old me drew back her metaphorical privacy curtain and let loose on the jerk. I cocked my head to the side and quirked up one eyebrow.
    “No I don’t suppose you are psychic, pal. Just talking out loud.” With that, I slammed the door on the delivery man.
    Who the hell would be sending me a package? No one has this address yet.
    I opened the package and removed the tissue paper to discover what the box encased.
    The book.
    I was a bit speechless when I removed the cookbook Ben and I verbally tussled over. There was a handwritten note in the bottom of the box as well.
     
    ‘Kathleen, for your someone special. –Ben, the Book Thief.’
     
    I couldn’t believe that Ben the Book Thief and supremely arrogant lawyer would be so… nice.
    He probably just took pity on your pathetic self. There was no return address or information about the sender on the package. Just a simple label addressed to me and the note from Ben inside. I did, however, have his name and number scribbled on a piece of paper. I entertained the idea of calling him for a moment before I decided against it. I was relieved to have gotten the book in the end for Cheyenne’s birthday, but had no intentions of seeing or talking to Ben ever again. I would need to stay as far away from him as I could. The last thing I needed was another Aidan in my life. Ben had trouble written all over him, and I knew to stay as far away from trouble as possible, at least for the time being.
    I quickly repackaged the gift and hid it beneath my bed. Cheyenne’s twenty-eighth birthday was in four days. I made a note to myself to start planning what we would do for her day. I chose not to tell Cheyenne anything about my encounter with the handsome book thief. She would only ask questions that would surely lead to spoiling her birthday surprise.
    We spent the majority of our Wednesday hanging out and talking, while both of us sat in front of our own laptops in the living room. Cheyenne was busy looking for employment and I was aimlessly browsing the internet for birthday celebration ideas. I didn’t even get to research the three firms I had applied to.
    Thursday and Friday came and went, and I didn’t accomplish much at all. I had Ben on my mind. I was undeniably attracted to the man, but couldn’t understand