Chapter Ten
W hen Jaxon crossed Sawyer Bridge and spotted Hazel Bestwick at the side of the road peering under the hood of her car, he immediately pulled over. He crossed the narrow road and sauntered up behind her. “What seems to be the trouble, ma’am?” He tried to keep the laugh from his voice and failed.
She jumped and turned, then tugged her coat tighter against the cool breeze kicking up. “It’s not funny, Mr. Langford. Don’t think that I can’t figure out what’s wrong with my Lexus. I used to help my older brother with his classic Thunderbird back when I was just a girl.”
“I’m positive there is nothing you cannot accomplish once you set your mind to it.” He gave a nod toward the flaming-red car. “So, what’s wrong?”
Hazel gave a soft harrumph. “I don’t know.” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “I guess it really does take a computer nowadays to diagnose car trouble.”
“Let me give you a lift.” He gestured toward his truck. “The sun’s about to set, and you know I won’t leave you alone on a country road. We can get Joel out here to tow your car to his shop tomorrow. He owes me a favor.” A big one, thought Jaxon, since he’d high-graded his cookies and started taking Ivy out.
“Hmm, well, only if you take me to dinner. I was all set to enjoy a night on the town when my baby coughed and stalled.”
Jaxon narrowed his eyes. “Is there really something wrong with your Lexus or are you out of gas?”
Hazel’s expression was all innocent affront.
“Or are you just on the prowl to pick up a man?” Jaxon waggled his brows.
Hazel laughed out loud. “Oh dear, Mr. Langford, you are on to me, aren’t you?”
With a flourish, Jaxon offered his arm. Hazel tucked hers neatly into it. He grinned down at her. “Where would milady like to go for dinner?”
“Let’s go to Buonvento. I’m in the mood for Italian.”
“Italian food or Italian men?”
“Both, of course. It’s up the road. I wouldn’t wish to put you to any trouble.”
“Oh, I expect you’re plenty of trouble.”
At Hazel’s low chuckle, Jaxon decided an evening spent with spunky Hazel Bestwick beat leftover homemade egg salad at home. Besides, one could never go wrong with the specials at Buonvento.
*
Ivy tried to pay attention to Rob, clad in a dark-blue suit, across the cheery, red-and-white-checkered tablecloth. He was so intense talking about his work and the importance of commercial insurance. Of course, as a business owner, Ivy had commercial insurance for the tea shop, but she didn’t consider it a scintillating topic. Rob thought it was. Now, he was talking about flood insurance and how important that was.
“But isn’t a hurricane an act of nature and not covered?”
He choked on his glass of merlot. She was about to stand up and come around to pat him on the back when he recovered. She glanced up just in time to see Jaxon at the hostess stand. When he took a step to the side, she could see he hadn’t arrived alone, but with a woman.
Jaxon was on a date?
Ivy went hot and cold and her head swam a bit. Everyone swore he wasn’t ready to date, that he was still mourning his sainted wife. Surely, discovering him on a date at the fanciest place in town proved he wasn’t grieving.
But who was she?
Ivy craned, trying not to be obvious. When Rob gave her a questioning frown, she rubbed her shoulder like she was easing a crick in her neck, so he wouldn’t turn to see who she was staring at. The woman, dressed in blue, was tiny, whoever she was. Was she wearing a cloche hat? With velvet trim? Too many people blocked her view for Ivy to identify her, but Jaxon looked dashing. His shirt was open at the neck, and she could see that tanned bit of skin. His sleeves rolled up not quite to the elbows, showing off forearms with a light dusting of hair, and she wondered what his arm would feel like around her, the way it was around this tiny woman. If only she could see her face.
Ivy had a flash of jealousy, imagining Jaxon holding this woman close. She racked her brain for all the tiny women in town that he might ask out and came up blank. I mean, if he liked tiny women, she kept coming back to herself. Of course, she wasn’t that tiny, but next to him, well, they’d be perfect. She watched Jaxon until the hostess, leading him and his stylish date, went beyond where her gaze could follow.
Rob was frowning in confusion. “Where did you just go?”
“What? Oh, I was pondering what I would do in a sudden rainstorm. I’ve never been in a flood.” She took a drink of her sparkling water. “Have you?”
Ivy was grateful the waiter arrived to enumerate the day’s specials: Ziti Capricciosa and Scampi Pomodoro. She chose the ziti drowned in red sauce, topped with mushrooms and melting mozzarella. Kyle chose the scampi, which of course sounded delicious, but would make his breath fishy. She expected he’d try to kiss her at the end of their date.
She really hoped it went better with Rob. Despite her last two dates, she still felt out of practice and was certain it showed. When she glanced up from dipping her bread in balsamic and olive oil, Rob scrunched his face in puzzlement. “Is something on your mind? You seem so far away.”
“Not at all.” She quickly replayed what he had been saying while her thoughts wandered. She vaguely remembered something about him working on a CPCU certification, whatever that was. “Is that difficult,” she asked, “taking all those online courses? Is it like being in school?”
The lines in Rob’s forehead cleared when he realized she had been listening, and he launched into a monologue about his many insurance certifications.
Ivy stifled a yawn.
*
The hostess led Jaxon and Hazel to the back corner of the restaurant. The twenty-something hostess in her form-fitting, black lace dress had acted inconvenienced they didn’t have a reservation, but really, with so few residents in Hazard one should hardly expect to wait for a table on a Monday night. The only reason for tonight’s crush was a large anniversary party in the center of the room.
Jaxon held the chair out for Hazel. When he seated himself across from her, he realized he was staring at a bouncy, blonde-streaked ponytail two tables over.
Only one person in Hazard had honey-colored hair that soft and sunny, with gentle wisps falling to caress the nape of her neck. Her springy-green dress had scooped shoulders, revealing the creamy tone of her skin where the back drooped down, and, ugh, she was seated across from the Rebels’s third baseman.
Another one of the cookie stealers on a date with his girl.
His mind skidded to a halt. He had no claim on Ivy Wayland. She was free to do whatever she wanted with whomever she pleased—even if it did include a date with the most tedious of all his teammates. Jaxon grabbed his water glass and took a long drink. He tore his gaze from the back of Ivy’s head and focused on Hazel, now in rare form.
“I love the shadowy atmosphere here, with the soft lighting. It’s very flattering, don’t you think?” She ducked her head and batted her eyelashes.
Jaxon realized Hazel must once have been quite the coquette. His eyes drifted back over her shoulder to Ivy, in that mouth-watering, off-the-shoulder dress. Her soft, smooth skin made it difficult to focus anywhere else.
“These little tables are so snug and cozy. Do you get out much these days?”
Jaxon cleared his throat.
“It’s time, don’t you think, to get back out there?”
Wait, was Hazel meddling? In his love life?
She gave him guileless, wide eyes, twinkling with mischief.
Definitely meddling. Did she know Ivy would be here? Had she tipped the hostess to seat them near her table? With Hazel, it was entirely possible. Still, there were worse things in life than gazing at the back of Ivy Wayland’s smooth, bare shoulders.
*
Just before dessert, Ivy excused herself from the table. She needed a moment. Rob was paying little attention to her as his dinner companion. Over her protests he’d ordered tiramisu to share, even though she was adamant she couldn’t eat a single bite of the decadent dessert. She sighed as she made her way down the long hall past the kitchens. Perhaps she’d find a lounge where she could pause and regroup. She closed her eyes at the restful thought and collided into someone barreling out of the women’s restroom.
“There you are,” said Hazel, who could be cryptic on the best of days, but this was a new level, randomly showing up across town to meet with no previous arranging.
Ivy blinked. “Were you looking for me?”
Hazel gave a high-pitched laugh. “Oh, no, I’ve known exactly where you are all evening. The hostess seated us right behind you, just like I arranged when I called. I don’t know why she acted all cranky about it. I slipped her a ten.”
There was just so much to unpack in that revelation, but, concerned by Hazel’s odd behavior, Ivy focused on one key point. “We?”
Hazel stood on her tiptoes, peeked over Ivy’s shoulder and said, soto voce , “Mr. Langford and I are on a date. Marvelous, isn’t it?”
Ivy blinked, and blinked again, eyelids fluttering like a hummingbird as she tried to process Hazel’s words. She grasped the hands of the tiny, elderly woman in front of her. “Excuse me?”
Hazel gave Ivy’s hands a reassuring squeeze. “I overheard you’d be here tonight, so I brought Jaxon. Once he fell for my car trouble ruse, I convinced him to bring me to Buonvento for dinner.”
Hazel’s machinations were often perplexing, but this was frosting on a nut bar. Ivy focused on Hazel’s stylish hat. She was the woman who’d entered on Jaxon’s arm. “You brought Jaxon to my date with Rob?”
“That lovely green suits you. Jaxon can’t look away. Oh, I know he’s trying to be polite and humor an old lady, but he only has eyes for you. You must know that.”
“I don’t. I—” Something eased inside Ivy. Was it true? Did Jaxon only have eyes for her? And if that was true—Ivy gripped Hazel’s hands tighter. “Should I bake him another batch of cookies?”
Hazel frowned.
“I could guarantee that he’s the only one who eats them.”
Hazel shook her head, hat brim wobbling. “Jaxon’s a generous soul. He isn’t one to eat a whole batch of cookies by himself. Only a very selfish person would do that. You can’t succeed by duping people, dear. The recipient must eat the cookies willingly. I fear what might happen if you rely on trickery. It breaks the spirit of the blessing. Hazard’s an earnest community, defying efforts at deceit. Our founder Edwin Hazard, my ancestor, was the most upright of men.”
Ivy nodded before Hazel could launch into a soliloquy on exemplary ancestry. “The cookie press came from France, though, passed through my mother’s side of the family. My parents are magicians. They’re absolute masters of deception.”
“Well, masters is a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?” Hazel scoffed, “That would imply your parents are good at magic. Certainly, they possess significant showmanship, but everyone knows their magic is phony. That’s what makes their show so engaging. No, dear, the cookie press wasn’t special when it came from France. It was only charmed after arriving in Hazard, when someone spoke the blessing over it. Before that, it was a mere cookie press—a pretty one, granted, but nothing extraordinary.”
Ivy tilted her head in thought.
Hazel shook hers. “You don’t need magic, dear. You need to be honest.”
“But you just admitted you resorted to deception to bring Jaxon here.”
“Well, yes, dear, but I’m a meddlesome old woman. No one will suspect I ran out of gas on purpose to pick Jaxon up on the side of the road. They can’t conceive I’d orchestra anything so conniving.” Her eyes danced, and Ivy was pretty sure no one in Hazard doubted Hazel Bestwick’s propensity for deviousness. Her scheming was renowned.
“So…”
“So, do not bake another batch of your Very Special Cookies.” She looked Ivy in the eye. “Do not do it.” Hazel toddled back to her table.
Ivy watched to make sure she made it. Hazel didn’t seem as steady on her feet as she had even just a few weeks ago.
After taking a moment to freshen up her lipstick and mascara in the lounge’s oval, gilt-edged mirror, Ivy lined her lips, hoping to make them the teeniest bit formidable. Besides, she needed to ponder Hazel’s revelations about Jaxon before she headed back to Rob’s less-than-dazzling conversation.
As she wound her way toward her table, Jaxon rose from his to follow Hazel toward the exit. When he came face-to-face with Ivy, his expression of wonder, followed by elation tinged with guilt made her take a step back.
“You knew I was here, didn’t you? Were you going to slip out without a word?” At his astonishment, she added, “I ran into Hazel outside the restroom.”
“Yes, well,” he leaned down and spoke in a loud whisper like Hazel, “We’re on a date.”
“She told me, rather gleefully. Oh, and I doubt anything’s wrong with her car that a few gallons of gasoline can’t fix.”
“Probably not.” They smiled at each other.
“You should get back to Rob.”
Ivy nodded. “I wouldn’t want to miss another detailed description of covered perils.”
“Or how to report a claim.”
“You’ve spent time with Rob.”
“It doesn’t take long.”
They grinned at each other.
“Thank you,” said Ivy.
“For what?”
“For being you,” she said to Jaxon’s bewilderment. She returned to her table to find Rob had finished the entire dessert by himself. Well, she thought, that’s one problem solved.
Rob drove her home and walked her to her door. The light was on in Holly’s apartment at the end of the row, so even though her own outside light was burnt out she felt secure. Rob, his hand brushing her shoulder, eased in for a light kiss which Ivy decided might be okay until, apparently encouraged, his right hand eased around to her back and crept in the direction of third base. The nerve! Ivy adroitly sidestepped, avoiding both the kiss and the groping, to swiftly unlock her door and slip inside. “Good night,” she said cheerily, “I had a lovely time.” She shut the door firmly.
She leaned in, forehead on the door, until she heard his car start and then pull away.
Good lord, all the Rebels were good-looking guys, but she lacked real chemistry with any of them, except one. If it weren’t for running into Jaxon, the evening would’ve felt like a complete waste of time.
Was she doing the right thing? Going on dates, giving these guys a chance? One might turn out to be amazing. One of them already has , said the voice in her head. But, for all that Jaxon always acted pleased to see her, that Hazel claimed he couldn’t take his eyes off her, he’d never once asked her out.
Her breath came out in a whoosh. She would not give in to defeat. She was learning from her dates. At the theater, she learned Holly was selling baked goods at local events. If she hadn’t gone out with Joel, she never would have known that.
The Hazard Historical Society’s fundraiser was in less than two weeks, and her scones were every bit as good as Holly’s pastries. She would guarantee her own success. Winning the bet would be fun, but improving her business remained her real goal. Nothing was going to mess that up. She’d lucked out in having her shop on Main Street, right on the square. Foot traffic was vital for a tea shop. Her business would never survive on the outskirts near Kaley’s Refresher and Hopewell Nursery. People didn’t drive to the edge of town for a spot of tea. So, fine, she would keep up the learning curve, and continue giving the Rebels a chance. She’d wasted too many years dreaming and watching from the sidelines.