Chapter 10 #2
“Oh, ha ha, yes. I’m sure.” She guffaws loud enough that even Eddie’s mustache twitches with amusement. “Well, it’s wonderful to have you here. We’re all very excited to have you lead the committee.”
Blue eyes slide to mine. “All?”
I shrug, indifferent, but Celeste doesn’t notice. “Yes, all of us.”
“Then it’s wonderful to be here.” He clasps her palm. I know he’s lying. I know he’d rather be anywhere else. “Reception seems to be in excellent hands this year.”
For a split second, I wonder if Miles and Hendricks have swapped. Because this guy with his baseball cap and toothy smile, stubble short enough that I can see his dimples pull in as he bats his eyelashes while Celeste preens, is too smooth for his own good.
It’s nauseating.
But then he winks at me.
And with that one singular gesture, I’m taken right back to being a teenager. To being best friends. To watching girls fawn around him while I stood on the sidelines. But no amount of fawning would get them anywhere because both Hendricks and Miles were adamant they never wanted a girlfriend.
I was the only commitment Hendricks ever made. Me and our friendship. I was the one he called at the end of the day.
Our friendship made me special, and no one could ever compete. Girls were jealous, and sometimes girls were mean, or they’d try to use me to get to him. But it didn’t matter, because I knew it wouldn’t get them anywhere.
Until that day by the fountain.
He made a lifelong commitment to someone who wasn’t me.
In a second, jealousy ate me up and spat me out.
My heart shattered beyond repair. For as long as I could remember, I was hopelessly in love with a boy who never saw me.
My entire being was entwined with him, and it unraveled faster than I could comprehend.
Because I found out, in that moment, his whole life was not and never would be entwined with mine.
I’m suddenly too beaten to stand here and listen to them talk. I hate it. I hate that I’m not over him. I hate that he still has this effect on me after years apart. Even when I tried moving on with Noah.
Without saying another word, I turn my back and make my way over to the chairs, already filling up.
Mrs. Winston is fussing around, greeting everyone who enters—Claudia from the bakery, the couple who run the bed and breakfast, and a few faces I don’t know.
And then there’s Agatha Chase wearing an extra billowy dress under a long scarlet cape.
It’s Agatha I make eye contact with, and when she pats the empty chair beside her, I sigh in defeat and take it.
“Story, dear. Good evening.”
I don’t bother to correct her, there are too many people here who’ve known me as Story, and it would take the rest of my depleted energy.
“How’s it going, Agatha?”
“Splendid. Splendid.” Her voice is deeper and more throaty than usual. “Are you ready for the full moon tomorrow?”
“Um . . .” I’m trying to listen to her, but I’m too focused on not paying attention to where Eddie, Hendricks, and Celeste are all laughing by the table, where the wine is now opened and poured.
I watch people maneuver around them to get to the drinks, but they’re oblivious to it through their own amusement. “I didn’t realize it was a full moon.”
“Don’t you feel it in the air, Story? The energy around us is electric. You must feel it.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Agatha.”
“Oh dear, it’s more dire than I thought. I’m hosting a full moon bath tomorrow evening with my sisters in magic, come and join us.”
“I—”
I’m vaguely aware of her moving next to me, rustling around in the meters and meters of fabric her dress must take up, until she clasps my hand tight in hers. It’s so tight it almost bites into me.
“Keep this close to you, Story. It will help you open up. But you must come and see me. I can’t help you if you don’t come.”
When she lets go, I find a small, rough pink rock in my hand.
“Rose quartz. It will clear the blockage around your heart.”
“You make me sound constipated.”
“And this . . .” She ignores me, pressing a small vial into my palm. “I want you to rub onto your pillow every night before you sleep.”
“What is it?”
“A potion of my own making. It will help.”
“Is this what the apothecary gave Romeo?” I smile weakly at my pathetic joke. “Thanks, Agatha. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. It won’t be much longer,” she replies, and I get the impression she’s about to add something, only for her mouth to close, and she turns away.
“Charming,” I mutter. But a second later, I understand why.
“Anyone sitting here? No? Good. I’ll take it, then.” It all comes out in one long sentence, and he doesn’t bother waiting for me to answer before sitting down. “You rushed off without taking a drink. I didn’t know which you wanted, so I brought you both.”
I’m staring at Hendricks and the two cups he has thrust toward me.
One in each hand—a coffee and a cup of wine so full to the brim I don’t know how he’s not spilled it.
I know there are at least three other people in this room staring too—Eddie, Celeste, and Agatha.
Although Agatha is close enough to eavesdrop, so she doesn’t need to stare.
“You brought me a drink?”
“Two, actually.”
“Why?”
“I told you. I didn’t know which one you wanted.”
“What are you drinking, then?”
“Whichever one you don’t.”
“Okay.” I’m still eyeing him, waiting for the catch. I don’t know why he’s suddenly being so nice when I’ve been nothing but a total brat. But I reach for the wine because no one ever gets my coffee order correct, and only by slurping the top do I not spill it. “Thank you.”
His head bobs, and his throat works as he swallows. Air? Relief? Something at least. “You’re welcome.”
“Could you have poured any more in here?” I ask, taking another gulp, but as I do, he places the other cup on the floor.
Removing his jacket I’m treated again to a heady waft of Hendricks, and I do my best to hold my breath while he settles into a seat too small for his shoulders and stretches out his long legs.
I wait for him to pick the coffee back up, but it stays on the floor as he leans back, his thick bicep resting against my arm.
“What are you doing? I thought you were drinking whatever I didn’t.”
“Yes. But I’m not drinking that coffee. It’s got enough sugar in it to induce a diabetic coma.”
I blink hard. “You put sugar in it?”
“Yes.” He arches a thick, dark brow at me. “Or have you stopped taking six spoonfuls of sugar in your coffee?”
It takes all my effort to hold my mouth straight and not betray any hint of the surprise and excitement bubbling inside me that he remembered. Even when he says it like six spoonfuls of sugar.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Then I won’t be drinking it.”
“But you said you’d drink what I didn’t.”
“That’s true. I lied.”
I don’t know why his honesty is so amusing to me, but coupled with the disgust on his face, it is. So I hold out my wine to him, more out of curiosity to see what he’ll do. Whether he’ll shake his head or take it.
His gaze drops low enough that I can no longer see his bright blue eyes I can still summon whenever I close mine. Whenever the moment is needed. I know I don’t imagine the crackle of static when his fingertips brush over mine, and he eases the plastic wine cup from my hand.
There’s no hesitation as he lifts it to his lips. My stare is contemplating as he holds it and takes a large sip before handing it back to me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I know my cheeks are heating, and they’re almost bright pink, I just don’t know why. But something about the way he’s still staring at me intensely forces me to look away.
An hour ago, I was equal parts dread and excitement at the thought of seeing Hendricks, and now we’re sharing a cup of wine.
“Order, order,” Mrs. Winston shouts at a volume I never expected from her. “Thank you all for coming. It’s so wonderful to have a varied group of Valentine Nook volunteers this year—”
“Volunteers? More like strong-armed—” Hendricks mutters.
“And thank you to Hendricks, Lord Burlington, for chairing this year’s Valentine Fair—”
Hendricks, being Hendricks, hits her with his best smile. “I’m excited to be part of it—”
“We have a month to get prepared, and the village ready with decorations. The posters are going up this week, and we want to ensure we have lots of fun new ideas to add to our usual host of activities. Let’s get the meeting started, shall we?
” She waits until all you can hear is the wind whistling outside.
“Excellent. Now, Agatha, would you like to begin?”
Agatha rises gracefully to her feet. “Thank you, Eunice, and may the moon bless all of you and our plans this wondrous evening.” Her stare is so intense as she peers around the room at everyone that a couple of people shrink into their chairs.
Though Eddie, next to Celeste, looks like he’s already fallen asleep.
“Over the next month, my emporium will be busy brewing additional Valentine love potions to meet demand, though, as we have done previously, it’s only available on a first-come, first-served basis.
The store will be opening at sunrise to offer readings for the enlightened, and I will be calling on my sisters in magic for help in spell work for those who really need it. ”
Agatha turns and aims the last part of her sentence at me, to which I scowl and take a glug of wine so large I almost choke. Thankfully, no one hears over the small round of applause and rustling of material as Agatha sits down.
“Thank you, Agatha. That all sounds wonderful,” Mrs. Winston says, beaming. “Eddie, can you update everyone on what you have planned for The One True Love? Chris from The Cupid’s Arrow couldn’t make it tonight, unfortunately, but they will be hosting a weekend of poetry readings—”
Eddie jolts awake after a nudge in the ribs from Celeste.
“We have speed dating on the evening of Valentine’s Day. Singles only allowed, and we’re brewing”—he grins at Agatha—“some Valentine’s cocktails.”
“Lovely, lovely.”
Claudia goes next with her plans for The Beanery, covering everything from decorations to valentine bakes.
She’s followed by the couple who run the Valentine Nook bed and breakfast—a charming little place which is always booked out six months in advance.
Celeste announces the Valentine Prep Reception Choir, and Mr. Jones—representing the Post Office—reminds us all that valentine cards can be dropped into the special post box being erected at the end of the month.
And so the meeting continues, all the while Hendricks and I share our cup of wine. His fingers brush mine every time he takes it and I know people notice. I don’t imagine their eyes on us, wondering what the hell’s going on because even I’m unsure, when finally, we move onto the decorations.
Valentine Nook is always the best dressed village, but for Valentine’s Day it’s taken up several notches. There won’t be an inch of Valentine High Street undressed.
It’s a love fest, and frankly, exhausting just listening to it. But Mrs. Winston’s not done, pen at the ready in case something needs to be added to the minutes.
“Does anyone have anything more to add, any activities the fair would benefit from? Remember, no idea is too small.”
The wine has dulled my wits. I’m too caught up in the tips of Hendricks’s fingers brushing mine. I’m too slow to object before Hendricks offers up words I hoped I’d never hear again.
“Let’s bring back the kissing booth.”