Chapter 5
Calvin had worked longer than he intended and spent the short remainder of the night tossing and turning and battling the ghosts of his memory. He’d slept no more than three fitful hours, the silence of the apartment and store below only giving more room for thoughts of Grace.
He wanted to see her. To rediscover the light and fire he remembered and study any changes. He wanted to talk and catch up and fine-tune the plans he’d drafted last night. Basically, he was craving a crash course in this version of Grace so he would know exactly how to help her.
She deserved more than the daily grind of running a business. She deserved to have all her dreams come true. She’d traded a college education to care for her mother and, if he was right, now she played the same caregiving role for the shop.
Over his first cup of coffee, he rehearsed opening lines and dismissed them all as too cheesy or too pushy. Probably best if he just got on with his day. He couldn’t let down his best client. He’d just have to trust that when he saw her, the right words would be ready.
Although he had options in the apartment, the combination of restlessness and responsibility led him outside to explore the town.
First up, he wanted more coffee. Levi’s latest addition to the Palmetto Perk chain was the obvious choice, but that might put him directly in Grace’s path. Though he’d rented the apartment, he didn’t want to come off completely pushy, so he aimed for the Bread Basket instead.
All his preliminary research pointed to the bakery as the heart of the town, by location as well as reputation.
He walked in and joined the line, breathing in the aroma of yeast, fresh coffee, and the warm sugary sweetness of the famous strudel.
The potent combination would derail the most determined health advocate with a single whiff.
Fortunately, his business was marketing and not fitness and discovering Brookwell’s highlights topped his to-do list. He ordered a black coffee and a slice of the original apple strudel.
Once he filled his coffee at the self-serve bar, he sat down at the only available table tucked into the corner.
He skimmed his email, unable to break the habit, though his gaze kept darting toward the entrance.
He didn’t have any reason to expect Grace and yet the idealistic kid he’d been held out hope that she’d walk in.
Pitiful, really. But he was long past trying to analyze why he couldn’t get over Grace.
He might as well be eighteen again, waiting for Grace outside a lecture hall, the swarm of butterflies in his stomach so loud they drowned out the sound of the bakery bags and ringing register at the counter.
And then, as if his longing had summoned her, she walked in. Right here, in the present. She wasn’t a hallucination he could blame on lack of sleep. The air inside the bakery changed, becoming charged, heavier, and infinitely more interesting.
She was fuller now, softer and curvier in all the right places, a woman carved by the reality of life instead of the carefree dreams of college.
The blue of her eyes scanned the front room and went wide with surprise, then wariness, when she spotted him.
For a second he thought she’d turn around and leave.
“Grace! Good morning, sweetie.”
He followed the sound of the voice to see an older woman waving Grace up to the counter.
She lurched forward, a smile wobbling on her lush lips. “Morning, Connie.”
She wore a floral dress that hugged her tempting curves and her fiery red curls were pulled back loosely, letting a few strands escape to frame her face. Even tense and uneasy, her beauty was undeniable, like a fresh, slightly battered rose.
Her gaze slid his way once more and he refused to look away, more than willing to let her choose how this played out. As he waited, a flush traveled up her throat, settling high on her cheeks.
Tingles. The word was ridiculous, but Calvin recognized that sharp, electric hum deep in his chest. It had been dormant for a decade and now it was back, stronger than ever.
“Calvin?” she breathed. Her purse slid from her shoulder to her elbow.
“Grace. Long time.” He stood up, offering a hand that felt suddenly too large, too rough, too corporate and detached.
No, he hadn’t come to Brookwell for her, but he’d be hard pressed to prove it at this point.
She ignored the handshake and, to his astonishment, leaned in for a quick, awkward, hug. Somehow, he managed not to crush her tightly to his chest. Where she belonged.
Not the point. Not the point.
She stepped back and stared up at him. “What are you doing here? I mean, in Brookwell.” She peered past him to his table. “Obviously the strudel brings everyone to the bakery.” Her smile brightened for a moment. “I, um… I thought you were miles away. New York? London?”
Was she trying to convince him she didn’t know he was in town?
“New York is home base,” he replied. “But business takes me all over. I’m actually in town for a few weeks, for some consulting and brand awareness.”
“Consulting,” she echoed. Her brow furrowed before she forced another smile. “The apartment over the shop was leased to your company.”
“Exactly. Between the timing, price, and convenience, we couldn’t pass it up.” Easier to offer all the logical corporate executive reasons. Safer than allowing any of his feelings to creep in. He gestured to the table. “Do you have a minute to join me?”
She turned her wrist and checked her watch. “Sure.” The gold band gleamed against her skin and he realized it wasn’t a smart watch, but more likely something her mother or grandmother had worn.
“I didn’t expect… you.” She smiled sheepishly as she sat down across from him.
He chuckled. “I didn’t expect me either,” he admitted. “And I won’t be here for the whole year.” Blurting that out felt all wrong, even though it was the truth. “I expect other executives will get more use out of the apartment as we handle various campaigns.”
“Good.” Her hands curled around her coffee cup. “Business must be going well.”
“Yes.” He had to remember to eat the strudel. He was too busy enjoying the sight of her, the clean scent of laundry and something subtly floral—honeysuckle, maybe—that clung to her.
He wasn’t sure how much to fill her in about the years since they’d parted. Suddenly his accomplishments tasted like ash in his mouth. How unfair was that? He’d missed her in those moments and now, being so close, he didn’t want to share for fear of bragging.
“You can tell me,” she said, sincerity brimming in her eyes. “I’d like to hear how you went from Duke to New York City.”
If she was hoping to avoid how he’d wound up in Brookwell, she’d be disappointed. His entire career was thanks to landing the right client at the right time. He cleared his throat. “A lot of it was luck,” he began. “And there wasn’t much to distract me from classes after you had to leave.”
She laughed, the sound as bright and lyrical as the bell over the door. “You don’t need to stroke my ego, Cal.”
“That’s not it.” The protest was weak, because he didn’t want to explain himself.
“I had an excellent internship with a marketing agency in my junior year,” he continued.
“I met several of the right people and had a great offer after graduation. Within three years, an investor approached me and I was able to start my own firm. It’s been relatively smooth sailing ever since. ”
“Good for you.” She reached across the table but drew back before making contact. “I mean that. I am happy for you.”
“Just not happy to see me?” What he’d meant as a joke landed flat. Had Willow told her what his real job was in Brookwell? “You look incredible,” he said, awkwardly changing the subject. “How are things going?”
“Great!” she replied too quickly. “Mom’s illness was tough,” she admitted.
“But we got through it.” She absently stroked the ring on her index finger.
“I miss her every day, but the shop keeps me busy.” Her gaze locked with his.
“Hard as it was to leave school, I’m glad I came home to help her.
We were able to make memories and celebrate her life—short as it was. ”
“That’s good,” he murmured. Sympathy filled his heart, along with no small amount of guilt that she’d dealt with those challenges alone.
But if he’d dropped out with her, he might’ve helped on some levels, but he would’ve dragged a load of financial baggage with him.
Now, he was in a better position to help her.
He could hire someone to manage the shop if she wanted to go back.
He could connect her with people to update her brand, take her business online, or implement any number of the ideas he had.
“Did you finish your degree?”
“Not at Duke.” She lifted her coffee to her lips, leaving him to wonder about the full story there.
“So.” She set her coffee cup down, looking nervous. “Levi Garrison is your client here in town, right?”
“And his fiancée is your best friend.” As much as he wanted to dive into the strudel, his stomach was tied up in knots. He had no idea what Willow might’ve told her. “Has Willow kept you up to speed on the opening of the new Palmetto Perk?”
Grace’s gaze darted toward the window. “Only the basics.” She tapped her cup. “Opening day is next week. The coffee service and pastry exchange is set. That kind of thing.”
He should feel better, but something warned him she was holding back.
“Was Levi the investor you mentioned?”
“Yes, actually.” Cal switched topics seamlessly, having loads of practice with clients who would flip from one aspect of a campaign to another. “He wanted someone focused primarily on his many business interests. So that’s what I do, but the team serves a diverse clientele.”
“That’s great, Cal. I am happy for you.” Her smile was sincere and that tension in his chest loosened. “I should get going. If you need—”
“Grace,” he interrupted, needing to tell her the rest before she heard it somewhere else.