Apple-y Ever After - Chapter 9
Milo woke to the alarm reminding him to take his meds—was anyone strong enough to handle life in Manhattan without the loving support of an SSRI and allergy meds? Typically, that chime came hours after he was already awake. Far from hungover, he felt amazing. He’d tasted the Clemens Climax, several times, and he was ready for another bite of the apple.
He rolled over to find he was alone. Saskia’s green dress, which he’d slid over her hips to find nothing underneath, was no longer draped over the chair in the corner of the room. She had left.
He checked his phone and thankfully, she had sent him a text.
Saskia: Sorry, had to leave early, busy weekend!
Of course she had to leave. As she’d said, it was the busy season at the orchard and she needed to help out her family. He couldn’t get greedy.
He reflected on the success of the party. If Saskia hadn’t suggested baking many crisps for people to try and vote on, the party would not have been as well attended, nor as energetic. His previous birthday gatherings had been sedate affairs; what else did people expect from an accountant?
But Saskia was right. Everyone at that party did love him, and it was easier for him to feel loved in that buzzing environment.
Then he and Saskia slept together, and that was similarly energetic. She was uninhibited in her body, free with her words and her feelings. She told him exactly how she liked to be touched, and he aimed to please.
Milo was nothing if not inhibited. But he’d seen the benefits of playing things a little looser, and he was inspired. If he were more like Saskia, what would his next move be?
He’d surprise her at the orchard at the end of the day. He could take her out to dinner, get a nice room at some boutique hotel in the Hudson Valley, and deliver her back to the orchard for her Sunday morning shift.
An easier, breezier person would not spend an hour researching restaurants near Clemens Orchard, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. With a plan made and his friend’s car borrowed again, Milo was on the road.
The parking lot at the orchard was nearly full even this close to closing time. Saskia was probably going to be exhausted, but he had faith she’d find a second wind. When he entered the main barn, the only familiar face he saw was the goth teen at the cash register.
He grabbed a gallon of cider and got in the line to check out.
“Hi again,” he said when it was his turn. “Is Saskia around?”
“I wish,” the teen said. “We’ve been slammed all day and I had to cover her shift.”