It's Only Temporary

Chapter 10: Unpaid Debts (Part 2)

She put the pieces of the keyboard back down and stood up. "Sorry," she whispered.

She didn't look at him again as she made her way awkwardly toward the door.

"Penny."

She turned. He had one hand braced against his desk now, and he leaned against it heavily. In his other hand he held a gift-card sized envelope - the one he had pocketed from the gift pile just a few minutes before. He held it out in her direction without looking up to meet her eyes.

"Here," he said tersely. A muscle jumped at the base of his jaw. "Take it. I don't want it. Go buy yourself something nice."

She took the envelope from his hand and left the room in confusion. It wasn't until she was back at her desk that she finally understood - after she looked inside and saw what it contained: a $200 gift card.

From the New York Running Company.

***

June 2014 (Present Day)

Penny set down the half-empty box she'd been unpacking and let out a long breath. The New York Running Company....

Of course, he'd been upset. The moment she saw the card, she'd understood the reason. It must have hit him like a punch to the gut. She'd kicked herself for not seeing it sooner. He'd always treated his morning run like it was a religion.

"Discipline," he used to say to her. "Rain or shine. Sick or healthy. Secret to success, Penny."

Only one thing could have kept him away from the jogging paths of Battery Park. Only one thing could have had more power over him than all his beloved rules and discipline.  He must have been terrified, she'd realized. Who wouldn't be terrified to venture back to the scene of the crime? She couldn't say she blamed him.

She'd been agonizing for weeks about what to get him for Christmas, but the answer been obvious as soon as she saw the card. She knew exactly what he needed. And she knew he'd be too stubborn to buy it for himself.

She could hardly wait to finish work that evening and head to the New York Running Company's flagship store. There they were, all lined up in a neat row at the back - the answer to all of David's sleepless nights and restless moods, right there in front of her eyes.

"Can I help you with something?" the salesman had asked.

"I need a treadmill," she'd responded. "Show me the nicest one you've got."

Of course, she hadn't figured on the price. Her $200 gift card didn't even cover the warranty. How could she have imagined the nicest treadmill in the store sold for over $10,000? She'd settled for the middle-of-the-road version instead, and she'd still ended up charging more than three month's salary onto her credit card.

It had been worth it, though, when he'd shown up at work on December 26th with a spring in his step and his hair still damp from the shower.

"You're in a good mood. Did you go for a run?" she'd asked him innocently.

"Discipline," he'd practically chirped at her in response. "Never underestimate the importance of discipline."

He never had figured out who the treadmill was from, of course. She'd had it delivered to his apartment on Christmas Day with a big red bow and a note that read:

XOXOXO

Love, You-Know-Who 

But he didn't know who. That was the whole point. She'd had one of her roommates write the card so he wouldn't recognize the handwriting. He'd never suspected - not with his vast array of female admirers. It could have been any one of dozens. He'd laughed to her about it afterward when he'd told her the story.

"I'm in so much trouble, Penny."

"So you really have no idea where to send a thank you note?" It had taken every ounce of self-control to keep her face from giving her away.

"Not a clue." He'd perched himself on the edge of her desk and chuckled. "Women," he'd said, shaking his head. "Here's a rule for you, Penny. Don't buy gifts for a guy who isn't your boyfriend."

Penny had shrugged in response. "I don't know. Maybe she doesn't want a thank you. Maybe she just wanted you to have it."

"No way," he'd laughed. "You'll see. Somewhere on the island of Manhattan, there's a woman who thinks I owe her something."

Penny couldn't help smiling to herself now as she remembered how he'd smirked. It had been worth it, just to see that expression back on his face.

"Somewhere on the island of Manhattan, there's a woman who thinks I owe her something." He'd been wrong about that, although he didn't know it at the time. She'd considered herself paid in full two days earlier - when he'd stopped at her desk on Christmas Eve and handed her a gift-wrapped package.

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