26. Chapter Twenty-Six
The rest of the week flies by in a daze, and here I am again, strolling down Main Street on a Saturday as Henry shoots another one of his crinkly-eyed smiles that makes my heart stop. I still haven’t come any closer to deciding which direction I should go after Jace was sentenced to five years in federal prison, but at least Henry was right about the whole town not hating my guts.
Mrs. Henderson waves from across the street with a flour-dusted hand, leaving a white cloud hanging when we pass her bakery. “Rose, honey, you stay strong!”
“Thanks, Norma. I’ll be by later to pick up some fresh pastries for my dad, okay?”
“Okay, dear.” Mrs. Henderson gives another friendly nod, but when we pass the post office, all signs of civility are off.
Mr. Jenkins looks at us like we’re a couple of characters in one of those trashy daytime soap operas. “Do you think he’s cast us as villains or just troubled love interests?” I ask under my breath.
“Afternoon, Ralph,” Henry chuckles, tipping his hat to the same postal worker who’s been delivering our mail since we were teenagers. “Don’t mind old man Jenkins. He’s been a grouch ever since he lost his pinky finger to Patty Richards’ Pomeranian.”
“Ew.” I wince at the thought. “When did that happen?”
“I don’t know. Probably a decade ago or so,” he says, oblivious to my amusement. “Want to grab an ice cream?” He points to the parlor across the street, and before I can answer, he’s already steering me toward the smell of fresh waffle cones.
“Chocolate or vanilla?” he asks when we approach the counter.
“Swirl,” I reply. “I want the best of both worlds.” I smile, knowing that’s how I feel about my friendship with Henry—sweet and innocent mixed with something so delicious it’s almost sinful.
We sit on a bench outside, licking our cones in a comfortable silence, when Henry’s knee brushes against mine, sending a shiver up my leg.
“Rose?” Henry turns to look at me, his green eyes serious under the brim of his hat. “I want you to know that no matter what folks around here say, I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “Thanks, Henry. But honestly… sometimes I don’t feel all that brave. At least not when we’re out in the open like this. I feel…” I trail off, searching for the right word.
“Vulnerable?”
“Oh my gosh, yes! I know it probably sounds stupid, but I want to feel safe when I’m with you.” The words spill out before I catch them, and I feel my cheeks turn fifty shades of pink at the admission.
“It’s not stupid, Rose. I guess I sometimes forget how hard all of this is for you still. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now, but the last thing I want it to be is unsafe.” He reaches over, his rough hand covering mine, then looks around. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s watching now.”
With his touch grounding me, I realize something significant. My feelings for Henry have grown roots. And not just wimpy ones that can easily be pulled from loose soil in a garden bed, but the stubborn kind that run so deep they won’t budge, no matter how much the wind tries to shake them.
“Nope. I guess not,” I say, turning my hand to intertwine my fingers with his as he gently kisses my forehead.
***
I’m barely pulling into the driveway when I spot Dad on the porch. The early evening sun frames his silhouette, and Toby is sprawled at his feet, thumping his tail against the wooden boards as I get out of my car.
“Hey there, Rosebud.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“Join me for a spell?” He pats the seat beside him on the old porch swing as I climb the steps.
Settling beside him, I let out a deep sigh, feeling the tension ease from my shoulders as we sway gently. Dad has a way of making the world slow down to a manageable pace.
“Seems like you and Henry have been seeing quite a bit of each other since your trip home,” he says as if it were a casual observation.
“Yeah, we have,” I admit, tracing a knot in the wood beside me with my finger.
“And how’s that going for you?” There’s no judgment in his tone, just open curiosity.
I hesitate—not because I don’t want to tell him how I feel about Henry, but because admitting it might make it real. “Dad... what do you do if you love someone you think loves you back, but the entire universe seems to be conspiring against you?”
“Love’s a funny thing. It doesn’t always make sense to those looking in from the outside. But if there’s one piece of advice I can give you, it’s this: Listen to your heart. It knows what it wants, even when the rest of the world doesn’t understand.”
“Do you think Henry loves me?”
“Look, honey, Henry’s a good man. He lost his way for a while after Camille passed, but I see the way he looks at you. It’s the same way he’s always looked at you… like you hung the moon. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”
“Thanks, Dad. I just wish everyone else could see it that way.”
“Give ’em time, Rose. They’ll come around. And if they don’t… Well, it’s their loss, not yours.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say, reaching up to give him a peck on the cheek. “I’m going to run in. I need to make a phone call.”
I slip off the porch swing and reach for my phone as I head through the front door and toward the kitchen. After I hit the send button, I listen to it ring.
“Chanel, it’s me,” I say, skipping past any pleasantries.
“Rose! To what do I owe the pleasure? Calling with good news, I hope?”
“Actually, I need some business advice,” I confess, gripping the phone tighter. “It’s about Metro Matchmakers.”
“Oh yes, darling, I heard about the trial. So sad. How are you doing?”
“Chanel, I’m done—done with him, done with the drama. I want out but don’t know how to untangle myself from anything even loosely tied to his name, but I don’t know how to do that without losing everything.” My words tumble out in a rush, their weight heavy on my tongue.
Chanel pauses, then clicks her tongue. “So I understand… Are you saying you don’t want your name tied to the business? Oh, Rose, you worked so hard building your brand. Surely, you’re not thinking of walking away from it all now that he’s out of the picture.”
“That’s just it. I don’t know if he’ll ever be out of the picture. Jace helped me build Metro into what it is today, so as long as it exists, people will always tie it back to him.”
There’s another long pause, and I imagine Chanel, ever the strategist, mulling over options. “Well, the answer is simple, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, not sure I’m following her freight train of thoughts.
“Okay, Rose, hear me out. If you sell the business, you’re no longer attached to the name, right? So why don’t I buy you out? Then, with Jace out of the picture, we can turn Metro into a part of Elite’s expansion. You’d get a clean break, a substantial payout, and, if you want, a fresh start with us. I’ll even let you keep the office in Dallas as your primary.”
I hadn’t considered any mergers with Chanel if things worked out in my favor with Jace, let alone a buyout, but I’ll admit the idea sounds deliciously tempting. “You… would do that for me?”
“If that’s what you really wanted, I’m sure we could work something out. Remember, Rose… we’re not just colleagues. We’re friends. And friends help each other fly.”
Fly. Henry. I feel my heart drop when I think about everything I’d be giving up.
“Wow, Chanel. I…” The words don’t come as hard as I will them.
“Rose?” Chanel’s voice pulls me out of my reverie. “You don’t sound as excited as I thought you’d be. Is this what you want?”
I press the phone closer to my ear, trying to reconcile my feelings. The offer is more than generous—it’s a lifeline thrown across stormy seas. But what if Henry is the calm water I’ve been yearning for all along? “It’s just that... I don’t know if I’m ready to give up Sugar Plum.”
“Ah, the cowboy,” she says knowingly. “Sounds like you’ve got it bad.”
I laugh, but it’s tinged with the weight of my dilemma. “More than I ever dreamed was possible, but Chanel, this is my career we’re talking about. I’ve worked my entire life to get where I am, and I’m not sure I can walk away from it all to explore some old childhood crush.”
“Rose, darling, love is rare, especially for women like us. We’re in the business of matchmaking, and quite frankly, who has time to date in this line of work? Certainly not me,” she scoffs. “Tell me honestly, what does your heart say?”
“My heart?” I sigh, leaning back against the counter. “My heart says it’s going to break either way.”
Chanel’s laugh is as sweet and thick as honey, and her warmth is almost palpable as her words ooze through the line. “Well, why didn’t you say that to begin with? I have an idea…”