Chapter 14
“Zoe!”
Zoe couldn’t help but tense at the sound of her name as she stepped into the church basement for the June meeting of Starr’s Fall Business Association. It had been nearly a week since she and Dan had not kissed, and then she’d had that frank conversation with Sophie the next morning.
She’d spent a lot of time reflecting on the unexpected wisdom of a fourteen-year-old, and also wondering if said fourteen-year-old had said anything to her father about their conversation.
If she had, Dan certainly hadn’t let on.
She hadn’t even seen him, which had left her a little disgruntled, more, she supposed than she should be, considering there had been no reason to see him, and she’d been busy enough with the demands of normal life—work and her parents, as always.
Still, she realized in retrospect she’d sort of expected him to get in touch. Stop by and say hello or come into The Latest Scoop when Sophie was working. She’d been hoping for that, even as she’d told herself that nothing was going to happen between them.
As it was, she’d found the lack of contact had been surprisingly unnerving. She didn’t even know if he was going to be here tonight, although she knew he’d been invited both by Lizzy and Maggie.
Now Laurie, newly married to Joshua Reed, came up to her, smiling widely. “Lizzy told me you approved the logo for the banner,” she remarked. “It looks good—and it was designed by your neighbor?”
“Yes, Dan Bryson.” Walking up Main Street to the meeting, Zoe had seen the banner for the fireworks strung across the road, complete with the purple logo, and felt a little dart of pride and admiration. “He moved here with his daughter Sophie just a couple of weeks ago.”
“I haven’t met them yet, so I guess they don’t have a dog,” Laurie replied with a laugh.
Almost two years ago, she’d opened a pet store and bakery—certainly a unique combination—across from Reed Books.
Joshua Reed, who had been the town’s most curmudgeonly bachelor, had fallen in love with her and they’d been married just a few months ago.
Zoe was very glad for them both; Joshua had lost his mom when he was only seventeen—Zoe had been in ninth grade at the time, and going through a hard time herself—and Laurie had grown up in foster care.
When battered and bruised people found hope and healing in each other, Zoe reflected, it felt like a miracle and yet at the same time the most natural and right thing in the world.
“Maybe you need to convince them to get a dog,” Zoe teased, “or a cat. Or maybe a hamster.”
“Something, right?” Laurie laughed good-naturedly. “Well, I look forward to meeting them.” Her eyes danced as she lowered her voice. “But I’ve heard from various little birds around town that you’ve gotten to know them both pretty well?”
And there it was, the inevitable Starr’s Fall gossip mill, relentlessly churning. “Sophie works for me,” Zoe allowed, “and they’re my next-door neighbors, so yes, I suppose I have.”
“And Dan’s single?” Laurie pressed, her eyes glinting all the more.
“I don’t know if he is or not,” Zoe replied, which was, in fact, the truth. “But it’s irrelevant, so—”
“Why is it irrelevant?” Laurie cried. “You’re single, aren’t you?”
“Just because you’ve found true love,” Zoe told her, making sure to keep her tone teasing, “doesn’t mean it’s around the corner for everyone else.
” Even if she was thinking about Dan Bryson more than she wanted to.
Even if those few taut seconds before Sophie had come in and flipped on the lights remained seared into her memory, no matter how much she told herself she was going to forget them.
In any case, she didn’t want all of Starr’s Fall talking about it. About her… and Dan Bryson.
And then look, there he was, strolling through the door, dressed in jeans and another one of his rock band t-shirts, his hair rumpled, and his mouth curved in a tentative, almost abashed smile that Zoe couldn’t help but find adorable, his gaze wandering around the room until it settled on her and suddenly she couldn’t breathe.
Laurie noticed, either the staring or the not breathing or maybe both, because she made a satisfied purr low in her throat, her friendly smile turning positively canary-eating as she clocked Dan at the door.
“I see…” she murmured, and Zoe thought she saw far too much, more even than was there, but she knew she couldn’t stop the tide of speculation.
Not in Starr’s Fall. Dan’s gaze rested on hers for a few tantalizing seconds and then it moved on, leaving Zoe feeling weirdly bereft.
It hadn’t been a dismissal, not even close, and yet…
something about the way he’d continued to look around the room had felt deliberate.
Like he was making sure not to treat her differently to any other person here.
Okay, she was reading way too much into a single look.
While Laurie looked speculatively on, Zoe went to take her place at the table, murmuring her hellos, trying to act normal.
As soon as anyone tried to act normal, they generally didn’t, but still.
She was giving a good effort. And there was no reason not to, because as she’d told herself a thousand times already, nothing had happened between her and Dan, and she hadn’t given him—or his daughter—any indication that something would.
Life really was, she felt the need to remind herself, too complicated.
* * *
Dan felt hyper-aware of Zoe as he took his seat on the other end of the table, trying both not to look at her and not to seem as if he was avoiding her, which was a delicate and difficult balance.
Truth be told, he didn’t know how to feel about her since they’d almost kissed a week ago.
At least, he’d felt like they were about to kiss.
He didn’t know what Zoe’s take on that moment was.
Afterward, she’d certainly seemed to want to distance herself from it, and when he’d tried to talk about it the next morning, she’d as good as shut him down.
Well, he wasn’t one to beat a dead horse, not with a failed marriage behind him.
He’d spent far too long trying to breathe life and hope into his relationship with Lindsay to take that role from the get-go with another woman.
As his mother had once gently told him a long time ago, when he was dating Lindsay, he deserved a woman who was as into him as he was to her.
In retrospect, it had been a warning about Lindsay, but he’d chosen not to heed it, or even acknowledge it.
But now, decades later, he would. If Zoe wasn’t into him, he was not going to waste his time trying to convince her to be. And so he’d come to this meeting tonight, knowing he’d see her and determined to act like it was no big deal.
Even if, in doing so, he was semi-hyperventilating.
“Hi, I don’t think I know you.” A woman plopped into the seat next to him, giving him a friendly smile. She had a neat silver bob and an alert expression. Dan guessed she was about fifteen years older than he was.
“Dan Bryson,” he told her. “I run my own graphic design business, and I moved here with my daughter a couple of weeks ago.” He stuck out a hand which she shook vigorously.
“Liz Cranbury. I run Midnight Fashion, the clothing boutique on Main Street.” She gave him an appraising look that had Dan trying not to inwardly squirm. “Are you married?” she asked, and Dan nearly choked at the bluntness of the question, although, he reminded himself, such was a small town.
“Divorced, actually,” he told her.
“Ah.” She nodded. “Me, too. Husband ran off with his secretary.” She wagged a finger at him. “I hope you didn’t do something like that.”
“I did not,” he assured her.
“Well, that’s a relief.”
He nodded, reflecting that this was one of the more bizarre conversations he’d had, but Liz certainly seemed cheerful enough.
Other people were coming to the table—Maggie and Zach, whom he knew, and Lizzy, whom he’d met when he’d gone to The Rolling Pin to show her his logo.
He also recognized the waitress who had taken his order at The Starr Light, and Mike, the mechanic who had changed the oil on his car when he’d first arrived.
Other people he didn’t know yet—a smiling, slender woman with brown hair and a friendly expression; the dark-haired man who looked like her boyfriend or husband; a woman who had her arm around Mike and was almost as tall and fearsome as he was.
All in all, it was a friendly-looking, if motley, crew.
Lizzy started the meeting, rapping a gavel on the table with an expression of wry humor.
The first order of business was the 4 July festival—fireworks and a hog roast on the village green.
Dan let the words roll over him as people debated how much to charge for a plate of pork and apple sauce; it went back and forth between ten and fifteen dollars for a good five minutes before a compromise of twelve fifty was finally reached.
Then it was onto the streetlights, with lots of good-natured groans about how they were blinking despite the town council’s many fixes, and further discussion about the Fall Festival coming up in September, with stalls, a square dance, and something called a cakewalk.
“And just in case you haven’t met our newest member yet,” Lizzy said in closing, “please do say hello to Dan Bryson, who has moved to Starr’s Fall recently and runs his own graphic design business. The lovely logo on the fireworks banner above Main Street is thanks to him. Welcome, Dan!”
Dan gave everyone a rueful wave as he received various smiles, waves, and certain speculative looks in return.
He glanced at Zoe, and she gave him a smile that seemed quizzical, a look of uncertainty in her eyes, almost like she was asking him a question, and one Dan had no idea how to answer.
She was the one, he reminded himself, who had pulled back first. Maybe she’d been expecting him to pursue her, he reflected.
Some women liked the thrill of being chased.
Too bad for Zoe, he didn’t like to chase. Not after Lindsay, when he’d felt like he was always trying to impress and keep her until he just couldn’t anymore. He’d promised himself he’d never act that way again, not for anyone.
Not even for Zoe.
He smiled back at her, a cool kind of smile that didn’t answer that question, whatever it was, or maybe it did. And then he let his gaze move on, like she was just another friendly stranger in Starr’s Fall whom he had yet to meet.