Chapter 15 #2
I take a slow breath. It takes a huge effort to stay calm and reasonable when I just want her to see what a scum he is. “Why don’t you have a talk with him? See if he’s on the same page about your future together. Better to know now if he’s not thinking about marriage after eight years.”
“Right. Like every guy wants to be pressured into marriage.”
“Look, you called me so you must want my advice. Do what’s best for you and your career. Opportunities like this don’t come up that often. Accept the job, try it out. If you find after six months to a year that it’s not a good fit, then you can always go home again.”
“I guess.”
Inspiration strikes. “There’s a romance book club and a bookstore.” I don’t mention that I joined them. That would invite too many questions, and I’m not about to explain my new interest in understanding women’s emotions, courtesy of Mackenzie and our complicated relationship.
I still. A relationship. Did this casual-turned-fake-dating thing turn into something real? It snuck up on me. And that’s why everything got messed up. Because I suck at the feelings part.
“A bookstore and a romance book club! Wow. I’ve always wanted to be in a romance book club. Every book club I found out here reads depressing books. I can’t believe Mackenzie never mentioned it.”
“I don’t think she reads romance, but her mom is the leader of it.”
“That must’ve been so nice growing up with a romance-loving mom.”
“She’s a great lady. You’ll like her.”
“I’m sure I will. Ack! Am I really doing this? Moving halfway across the country for a new job?”
“It’s a great opportunity, and you earned it.”
“I’ll see if John’s willing to do long distance for a while. This doesn’t have to be forever.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, thanks, Cal! Love you!”
“Love you too.”
She hangs up.
I smile at her cheery bye. I’m glad she’s excited about the job because her relationship is a dead end. Big picture, she’ll be much happier moving on with her life.
Mackenzie
I walk idly down Main Street for the big Clover Park sidewalk sale, hoping a little shopping will lift my spirits.
It’s the end of March, and the sidewalk sale is one of the ways the local businesses try to get more foot traffic.
People shop while enjoying the music of the local band, Reverb, made up of the high school music teacher, his friends, and some students doing covers of music from the eighties.
I check out a cute boutique’s selection of spring dresses and sense someone staring.
Cal just came out of Happy Endings. He waves.
At least I get a wave after more than a week of ghosting.
I give him a quick wave, feeling awkward and overheated, and go back to shopping.
I didn’t expect him to come out for the Saturday sidewalk sale.
I glance across the street again but don’t see him.
Guess I don’t have to worry about awkward conversation, though I would like to apologize for what he overheard before.
I was in super-defensive mode with Harper and Rowan peppering me with Cal questions.
I turn to go and walk right into a solid chest.
I jump back. “Cal!”
“You made Sutton an offer even though I didn’t fulfill my end of the bargain.”
I stuff my hands in my pockets. “It had nothing to do with our bargain. Sutton’s a valuable employee.”
“It’s a big step forward for her life. Just don’t tell her it was part of our deal. Can I buy you ice cream as a thank you? Heard it’s the best in the state.”
He ghosts me, and now he acts like nothing ever happened. I can’t let this one go.
“Listen, Cal, I’m sorry about what I said before. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded about being in a relationship with someone like you. You’re great, just not…well, you said you’re not good at relationships, and you just got out of one, so—”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“You seemed upset. You didn’t text me back.”
“I needed some space to get things straight in my head. So ice cream with a friend?”
I tilt my head. “Are we friends?”
“Why not?”
Oh, so many reasons. Let’s see—hookups one through ten; I find you irresistibly sexy and charming and smart.
And I’m stupid in love with you.
He smiles. “Come on, one scoop. On me.”
“Sure.”
We walk towards Shane’s Scoops, passing more sidewalk-sales racks and tables. The sidewalks are decorated with colorful chalk drawings. Kids always help decorate for local events.
“How’ve you been?” he asks.
“Fine. Sutton’s excited about coming out here and joining the Happy Endings Book Club. If I’d known that was a selling point, I would’ve mentioned it early on. I’m so glad she took our offer.”
“Her boyfriend is giving her a hard time about leaving. He said if she leaves, it’s goodbye forever.”
“So how did she decide to let him go? They’ve been together for a long time, right?”
“He didn’t want to get married. That’s all the answer she needed. She’s upset but also eager to move on and get a change of scenery.”
“Then it all worked out.”
He opens the door to Shane’s Scoops, and we join the line. The handwritten chalk menu declares the specials—chocolate brownie, peanut butter swirl, and mocha—and then there’s the usual lineup of awesome flavors.
“Let me guess, you like chocolate,” he says.
“Chocolate brownie. Double the chocolate. Let me guess yours—strawberry.”
“Nope.”
“Mint?”
He grins. “Nope.”
“Here I thought I knew you so well after fake dating.”
He shifts closer. “Don’t forget the week when—”
“We were getting to know each other.”
He searches my expression. I face front. Not going there.
Cal peers at the label in the case. “Oh good, they have it.”
“Butter pecan?”
“Vanilla.”
I stare at him. “You were worried they wouldn’t have the most basic of flavors?”
“Basic? Vanilla is the best. Subtle but flavorful. It doesn’t hit you over the head to have a good time. Sort of sneaks up on you and lingers.”
He gives me a lopsided smile. My knees weaken. Does he want to linger?
A boy around four years old turns from the counter with his cookies-and-cream cone, takes a giant lick, and the scoop promptly rolls off the cone and splats on the floor. “No-o-o-o!” he cries.
His dad is wrestling a baby into a stroller. “Just pick it up and put it back,” his dad says.
“It’s dirty!”
“We don’t have time. We have to get to your sister’s soccer game.”
“I want a new one!” he wails.
“I got you, little man,” Cal says as they make his vanilla cone. “Can you put cookies and cream on top there? And a small empty cup too. Thanks.” Cal grabs a spoon and napkin.
A moment later, he hands the cone to the boy. “Whoa! Double scoop!”
“Thank you,” the dad says.
“Yeah, thank you!” the boy says.
“No problem.” Cal hands the boy the spoon and napkin. “Here’s how you handle a double scoop. Super-small licks, and if it starts to roll off the cone, then bam! Catch it in the cup and make the cone a hat for your new sundae.” He gestures to show him what he means.
“Like a clown sundae. I had that before at Olga’s.”
“Awesome.”
The boy pats Cal’s leg, leaving a sticky handprint before walking off. Cal takes it in stride, ordering ice cream for the two of us.
A hero to a little kid? That’s it. I’m done. My heart cracks open. It might not work out between us, but I’ll always have a place in my heart for this man.
Of course, he doesn’t need to know that. Yet.
“Your jeans are a mess,” I tell him.
“Small price to pay to save the day.”
We sit on the stools along the side counter.
I ask him about his work. He seems to be finding his footing with his new small-town client roster.
Even managing some neighborly disputes, which there are a lot of around here.
The funniest is a case of a wandering cat who was taken in by a neighbor and now refuses to go back to her original owner.
“You really like it here,” I say.
He smiles. “I do.”
My phone vibrates with a text. Sutton: I can’t take the job. Sorry.
I frown and show it to him.
“Shit.” He pulls his phone out. “Calling her.” A few moments later, he exclaims, “You’re engaged? What happened? Are you pregnant?”
I gesture for him to lower his voice. He shakes his head, mouths, “Later,” and heads out the door.
He stalks down the sidewalk, looking pissed. This is not good.