Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
DIXIE
“ I think it’s too early to go home,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“What else would you do after a visit to the arcade?” I asked.
“Milkshakes.”
“Milkshakes?”
“There’s a place around the corner. Best milkshakes ever. Like real milkshakes. Not the kind that come out of a machine.”
“Shoot, tell me where,” he said.
I directed him down a couple of streets. The place was a little diner that looked like it hadn’t changed since the fifties, complete with a glowing red sign that read “Mel’s Shake Shack.”
“You’re serious about this?” he asked, pulling into the parking lot.
“As a heart attack,” I replied with a grin. “Trust me, these are going to be the best milkshakes you’ve ever had.”
We entered Mel’s, and it was like stepping into another era. Vinyl booths, a jukebox in the corner playing oldies but goodies, and a counter where you could watch your shake being made from scratch. The air was filled with the scent of fried food and sweet ice cream.
“This place is cool.”
I ordered a strawberry shake while he went with basic chocolate. We decided to take them to go. I never imagined I would be riding around in a Porsche, drinking a strawberry milkshake, but life had a funny way of surprising people.
I took another sip. It was the perfect blend of sweet and creamy, with just the right amount of whipped topping to make me feel like a kid again. Hayes sat beside me in the driver’s seat, his chocolate milkshake balanced in one hand as he leaned back, looking entirely too comfortable for a man in a tailored suit jacket.
“I still can’t believe you beat me at skee-ball,” he said.
“Blame your parents for never taking you to an arcade. I was raised on that stuff.”
“Remind me to never underestimate you again,” he teased before taking a sip of his shake. “You know, I had something a little more extravagant in mind for tonight.”
“Extravagant, huh?” I asked, leaning back against the seat. “Define extravagant.”
His lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Dinner at this exclusive rooftop restaurant downtown. Private chef, live jazz, the works.”
I nearly choked on my milkshake. “What? Hayes, that’s insane!”
He shrugged, unbothered by my reaction. “I’m a Bancroft. Over the top is kind of our thing.”
I shook my head, laughing. “And you thought that would be a good second date?”
He grinned. “Absolutely. But I’m flexible. I don’t mind taking a detour if the mood strikes us.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad we did this instead,” I said, waggling my little green spiky guy at him. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”
“Me too,” he said, smiling. “Sometimes simple is better.”
I smiled. “Agreed.”
He drove us to a park and we found a bench to enjoy our shakes on.
“So, did Ryan give you any grief for bailing on the party?” I asked, curious about how he’d explained our sudden disappearance.
Hayes chuckled. “He called the next morning. I told him I got caught up talking to a guest, then had to duck out for work.”
“Stone cold liar, huh?” I teased, taking another sip.
“What about you? Did Pamela say anything?”
“Not a word,” I replied. “But I did get a text from a number claiming to be Paul. He said it was nice to see me at the party and wished we’d had more time to connect.”
Hayes snorted. “Poor Paul.”
“So, what’s with your father’s wedding?” I asked. “That picture you sent me of the venue was awesome.”
“I don’t know if you’re ready to hear this story,” he said with a laugh.
“Is he marrying a child bride?”
“No, nothing quite that bad. Still odd, though. He’s marrying my aunt.”
“Your aunt? Like his sister?”
He shook his head. “His sister- in-law . I’ll give you the condensed version. My father met her a long time ago. Like a really long time ago. They were in love but then my uncle Art, Dad’s brother, stepped in. Kathy married Art. My dad moved to Vancouver and met my mother. They fell in love, but apparently my dad always had some old feelings for Kathy.”
“And your mother is…?”
“She passed away a long, long time ago. My uncle passed away a while back.”
I smiled. “And now they are free to be together.”
“Exactly.”
“Aww, they still loved each other all this time later? That’s so romantic.”
“I think it was more like than love, but after spending some time together, it became real love again.”
“And now they’re getting married,” I said with a sigh. “That’s not weird. It’s beautiful.”
“It is what it is.”
“Oh, it sounds like you’re not super excited about it?”
He chuckled. “You sound like a therapist.”
“Sorry. I was just wondering if you were good with your dad moving on.”
“I am. We all are. It’s been a long time. We know our father loved our mother. He treated her well. He never gave her any reason not to feel like she was his one and only love.”
“And do you get along with your aunt—step-mom?”
“I do. She’s very kind. Sweet. Caring. And she loves my dad. She treats us like we are hers. That woman has one of the biggest hearts you will ever see in a person. She went through hell with my uncle. Do you want to hear some of the dirty secrets of the Bancroft family?”
“Hell yeah!” I said with a laugh. “Don’t tell me you guys have skeletons in your closets?
“More skeletons that I can count and I mean that literally.”
“Wait, are we talking murders? I knew all you billionaires hunted humans for sport.”
He chuckled. “No. Exactly the opposite.”
“What’s the opposite of murder—life?”
“Yep. My uncle was a… well, he was like a randy goat who got into the Viagra. That man was a regular Johnny Appleseed.”
“The apple tree guy?” I asked with confusion. “What does this have to do with apples?”
“It’s not the apple part as much as the seed part. He’s got twelve kids that we know about, but only six of them are Kathy’s sons.”
It sounded like a math problem but eventually it clicked. “Wow, he really was a randy old goat.”
“You said we were on the verge of world domination. You don’t know how right you were. We didn’t even know about all those other kids. After Art’s death, they showed up.”
“I’m guessing not all six were from the same woman?”
He shook his head. “Nope. We expect there are probably more kids out there, but we have yet to meet them.”
“Did your aunt know her husband was sleeping around?”
“Yes and no,” he said.
“Well, it sounds like it’s a good thing your dad came along,” I said.
I could tell he was genuinely happy for his dad. Despite what he said though, I did pick up on some reluctance. I got it.
“Alright, you know my family’s secrets. Tell me about your family.”
I rarely talked to anyone about my family, let alone a guy like Hayes Bancroft.
“Well, I’m a disappointment.”
“I doubt that.”
“I have a bit of a strained relationship with my parents. They never really understood my love for restoring furniture. To them, it’s not a real career, just a hobby that paid some of the bills. They never expected me to actually make it my job.”
“But if it does pay the bills and make you happy. I would think that’s what matters.”
“They expect more. My younger sister is a very successful pharmaceutical rep. She just signed a lease on a new place. I’ve made peace with the fact that I’ll probably never own my dream townhouse in Manhattan.” I could hear the resignation in my voice. “But I love what I do. I just wish they could see that.”
When I glanced at Hayes, I realized how vulnerable I’d been. My cheeks burned, and I quickly tried to steer the conversation to something less heavy. “Anyway, these milkshakes,” I said, forcing a light tone. “They’re my favorite because they remind me of summers with my grandma. She made the best strawberry milkshakes. She grew strawberries and used them in her shakes.”
Hayes seemed to catch on to my change in tone and didn’t bring up my parents or family again.
After we finished our shakes, he tossed the cups in the trash and drove back to my building. He walked me to the door, his hand brushing against mine in a way that sent shivers down my spine.
“I had a great time tonight,” I said, leaning against the door.
“Me too,” he said, his voice low and filled with intent.
We both knew what we wanted to happen. My bed was half the size of his, but it would work.
Before I could say another word, he cupped my face and kissed me, slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world. My hands found their way to his chest. The same fire that burned between us last week sparked to life. I was just about to invite him in when the sound of a door creaking open shattered the moment.
“Oh, Dixie!” Margaret, my cat-obsessed neighbor, called out. She stood in her doorway, her fuzzy robe tied loosely around her frail frame, a calico cat perched in her arms. Her eyes flicked to Hayes, and a sly smile spread across her face. “My, my. You’ve got yourself a strapping young man here.”
“Hi, Margaret,” I said, forcing a smile.
“Do you mind if I borrow him for a moment?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“My sliding door is jammed again,” Margaret said. “The cats can’t get out on the balcony. They just hate being cooped up all day.”
Hayes glanced at me, clearly torn between politeness and wanting to finish what we started. I sighed, giving him a small nod.
“Of course,” he said, his tone courteous. “For the cats.”
We followed Margaret into her cluttered apartment, where the smell of catnip and what I was certain was some litter scented with lavender. She led us to the back door, which indeed refused to budge.
“I’ve been trying to get this thing open all day,” she said, shaking her head.
Hayes knelt down, examining the track. “Looks like it just needs some WD-40,” he said.
Margaret’s face lit up. “Oh, I’ve got some of that somewhere. Let me find it.”
She shuffled off, leaving us alone for a moment. I leaned against the counter, watching as Hayes ran his fingers along the doorframe.
“Bet you didn’t expect to be fixing doors tonight,” I teased.
He glanced up, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”
Margaret returned with the WD-40. Hayes quickly got to work. I couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he handled the task, even as I wished we were back in my apartment, uninterrupted.
After what felt like an eternity, the door slid open with a satisfying whoosh.
“Oh, thank you, dear!” Margaret exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Happy to help,” Hayes said, stepping back and wiping his hands on a rag Margaret provided.
She chatted with us for another twenty minutes, regaling us with stories about her late husband and her cats, until it became clear that our night alone was officially over.
When we finally made it back to my door, Hayes gave me a rueful smile.
“Rain check?” he asked, his voice low and promising.
“Definitely,” I said. My heart raced as he leaned in for one last kiss before heading off into the night.
I closed the door behind me, throwing the locks. I couldn’t help but grin. Even with the unexpected change of plans, the night had been perfect.