18. Duke
EIGHTEEN
DUKE
I really hate seafood. And by hate, I mean that I’m terrified of it because my allergy to it is substantial. Think about Hitch on his date to a cooking class. My face swells up and then I look like a red potato.
Why did I not admit this to Maggie?
Probably because I feel like there’s something different between us now, like she’s not hating me as much as before, and I want to spend more time with her.
The energy between us at the cookie decorating station was electric, and although I tried to play off touching her to wipe the sticky frosting from her face like it was no big deal, it was a very big deal.
I’d been tempted to lean over and kiss her, but given our history, I didn’t think that was the best idea. Maybe that’s why I didn’t admit that I have an allergy and go about my day?
Yes, I should’ve. But then we would be done with our scavenger challenges for the day and I’m not ready for that.
Besides, we’re not actually eating seafood. We’re just working close to the kitchen, that might not be up and running for the day, but it still has that distinct smell of the ocean.
I have to watch Maggie fold the silverware and the napkin since I spaced out during the actual demonstration. Her fingers are painted with a clear pink polish and her skin looks so soft as she adeptly rolls the silverware in the napkin and makes it look just like the example.
“Have you worked in a restaurant before?” I ask. She looks comfortable here and I don’t think The Candy Jar is at all comparable to a place like this. She worked at an ice cream place, but I doubt they would be rolling silverware into fabric napkins there.
I have to clear my throat in order to get an itch to subside. Maybe it’s just in preparation for an allergic reaction, since I haven’t put anything into my mouth since we walked in.
She turns to give me a small smile. “My aunt and uncle owned a restaurant that sold Greek food. I loved going to help them from time to time. My parents hated it because they thought I’d get the wrong ideas. They wanted me to be an accountant.”
Nodding, I can see that happening. “An ice cream shop, a Greek food restaurant and now The Candy Jar. I think it was destiny. They’ve got to be proud of that.”
She shrugs. “They don’t really see that far into my job title. The fact that I sell candy makes them think I’m delusional and still a child.”
That would be awful. And exactly how my parents would react.
“I’m so sorry, Maggie. If it’s any consolation, I think it’s great that you followed your passion.”
“Thanks. What about you? Are your parents proud of your line of work?”
Here we go again. I know she’s got some animosity toward timeshares, but does she have to shoot darts through her eyes at me? Taking a closer look, she is genuinely interested. Maybe we’re moving on from the past?
“I think they’re glad they don’t have to deal with me on a daily basis anymore. At the shop, anyway.”
“What kind of shop?”
Blowing out a breath, I try to paste on a smile. “They own the wedding shop at the edge of this shopping mall. The Bridal Barn.”
Maggie turns up her nose at the sound of that. “Right, I knew that. Did they come up with the name?”
I give her a half-smile and say, “Yes, they did. I’ve wondered hundreds of times if they could’ve come up with something better. We’re not even close to a bunch of farm fields and it makes it sound like everyone is a redneck or something.”
Maggie laughs, placing her hand over her mouth to block some of the sound. “I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t make fun of something like that.”
Raising my hands, I step back and say, “All is fair when it comes to relating wedding preparations to a place that houses animals.”
“I’m assuming you worked for them for a long time?” Maggie asks, reaching for another set of silverware to tie up in the napkin.
Nodding, I know she’s going to ask me more about it. And I’d rather distract myself from the smell coming from the kitchen. Maybe the silverware hasn’t been cleaned all the way, causing me to itch along my collar. I reach up and scratch gently, trying to breathe through this event. Since when do I risk my life to spend more time with a woman? I guess now is as good a time as any.
“Yep, I started out in the shoe section when I was four.” I stop and watch her reaction of disbelief. “I wasn’t the main salesman, but I did comment a lot on the choices, which my father hated. I worked up to cashier and then bridal consultant.”
Maggie chuckles then. “They put you as a bridal consultant?”
I shrug and say, “They were running out of options for me. I messed up the till one time and it took a couple of days to fix it. I can’t sew to save my life, so I can't be a tailor.”
She raises an eyebrow and says, “You must know all about the cut of dresses then.” It’s not really a question, more of a statement.
“My parents made a poster on my wall so that I would subconsciously learn it all while I slept.”
Maggie blinks a few times before saying, “Wait, really?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “I’m sure if I’d given them the idea, they might’ve done it. But yes, I actually know the different fabrics, the designs and cuts. I think we had to go through at least a thousand dresses when looking for what the brides wanted.”
Maggie looks like she’s trying to hide a smile. “How long did you last in that position?”
“About four months. Dad put me over the ordering, before I struggled with that. Then I figured it was time to start doing my own thing. I thought my dad would freak out and tell me how I’m supposed to inherit the business or something, but he and my mom were more relieved than mad.”
“I can see why,” Maggie says, placing the last set of silverware into the bin. “You were wrecking what they’d worked so hard to achieve.”
I feign a frown before saying, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“So, you just jumped into timeshares after the Italian restaurant and the hotels?”
She’d been listening. None of the women I’ve dated in the past have cared about my job. Not that I’ve dated that much.
Shaking my head, I say, “No, it didn’t start that way. I’ve worked for several businesses around town and then tried a few different things. An arcade, which did not go well. Let’s see?—”
“What do you mean an arcade? Like you bought all the different machines and everything?”
I grimace, not wanting to relive the shame of that endeavor. “Well, I took it over from an older guy on the terms that I would lease to own it. Turns out that lease made it all of a month before the guy came out of retirement and I had to find a new job.”
“And you’re worried about that?” Maggie asks.
Raising my eyebrow, I say, “Yeah. What kind of man can’t decide what to do with his life? And what woman in her right mind would go along with someone who doesn’t provide stability?”
We’re quiet for several moments. I avoid her gaze. I don’t need to see her face to know she’s probably agreeing with the questions I just asked out loud.
“Maybe being different is what makes you the person you are. I know that things were hard for my father a few years ago. He kept claiming how he should’ve taken more time off before graduating college and jumping into a career. To be honest, you might be skipping that restless part of life by doing it now.”
I stare at her, surprised that the woman who was so mad at me over timeshares is really great at thinking of the little things.
“Thanks.” I’m grateful for her observation, but I’m more curious about her answer to my last question. Would she be willing to go out on a date with me?
“Do you think our candy store will be fine outside of the busiest hours in town?”
I nod. “Absolutely. People love a good bag of candy and ice cream. They’re a fun treat after a long day.”
“What else have you done?” Maggie asks, turning in the booth to look at me fully.
“Well, I tried to be an instructor at King’s Surf Shop. I’ve done construction with Beck the builder. And I told you about not getting my flying license with Coop. Delivery driver, server at a restaurant. But none of those really fit. And I think I wanted to keep my friends more than the job.”
She chuckles and says, “That’s probably for the best.”
“What about you? What jobs did you have before deciding to open one of the greatest shops ever?”
“I don’t know about that. Ice cream scooper, a server, and then an assistant.” Something about how she says that last word makes me wonder if there’s a story behind it.
“What did you assist in?”
“My father’s company.”
“Ah, so you had to put up with working for parents too.”
She nods, but the smile doesn’t come back.
“What does your dad do?” I’m usually great with details when I need to be, but I can’t remember if she’d talked about this.
“He’s the owner of an accounting firm.”
Nodding, I try to look supportive so she’ll feel safe continuing. “That’s cool. Where?”
“I’m from Virginia. He and one of his college friends started it a couple of years after graduating. There are plenty of people to help.” Again I’m struck by the way a slight bitterness hints at her words.
“What made you leave?”
Her eyes go wide and she looks as though she’s about to bolt. “I think we’re done here. Should we take the picture?”
I hesitate before pulling out my phone and snapping a picture of us. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, but I post the picture anyway.
I slip my phone into my pocket and the restaurant gal from earlier comes out. “Thanks for doing that, guys. That made my morning a lot easier. Here are some sushi rolls for helping.”
Maggie takes them with a thank you and I do everything I can to avoid being within a foot of the poisonous things.
We walk outside and I turn to Maggie, wanting to continue the conversation we’ve just had inside. Instead, she pushes the plate of sushi at me before digging into her purse for something. I’m pretty sure I touched a piece of raw fish with my thumb and I’m just hoping I don’t blow up like a balloon at this point. Or I’ll just break out in a rash. Also not ideal.
“Thanks for this morning. I’ve got to get back to the shop.”
“Me too. Can I walk with you there?”
Maggie pauses and then nods. “I’d love that.”
She pops a piece of sushi into her mouth and the corners of her lips turn up with a satisfied smile.
“Good?” I ask.
She nods. “Are you sure you don’t want any?” she asks after she’s swallowed the first piece.
Shaking my head, I say, “I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”
“What do you think will be on the agenda for tomorrow’s task?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe underwater basket weaving?” I say, trying to keep a straight face.
She raises an eyebrow. “Really? Is there such a thing?”
I chuckle and say, “I don’t know. It’s just something my dad always said.”
We aren’t far from our neighboring businesses and I’m now sad that we don’t have more time together. “What time are you done with work tonight?” I ask.
“I’m training our new hire and then helping out Hope make some decisions about the wedding.”
“I thought she hired a wedding planner.”
She nods. “Yes, but I took your advice and talked to Hope about doing something.” She gives me the cutest smile I’ve seen in a while and while I’m excited for her, I’m a little sad that my courage to ask her out has disappeared.
There’s a moment when Maggie seems to register that the wedding might be connected to The Bridal Barn and says, “Does the wedding planner gal work for your family?”
“No, she’s newer to town. But is she not doing what Hope wants her to do?”
“She’s been great, but Hope wants some input from me. She helped me with a bunch of mine?—”
Maggie freezes, as though the summer sun had just turned into a glacier and she can no longer move.
“Were you married before?” I ask, curious. Why is there a small amount of jealousy popping up in my chest right now?
“Engaged. It’s a long story.”
“I’m willing to listen to long stories.” I try to give her a smoldering stare, but it probably just looks like I’m questioning my life choices. That’s true too.
From the look on her face, she doesn’t want to discuss it any more. I’ll just have to file away my questions for another day.
“Well, I should probably get to work. Have a great day and we’ll see you tomorrow.”
I unlock my business and walk in, trying to stop from reeling at this new information. Maggie was engaged at one point, but now she’s not. And she moved from Virginia to here, doing something opposite of what her father wanted. There’s a lot to dissect about this woman, but the question is do I want to?
Obviously enough to risk my lungs and throat to the environment where crustaceans go to die.