Chapter Fourteen Georgia
I f you have a Type A personality, you’re called “The Director.” You are competitive, aggressive, and goal-oriented. When my brother and I were nineteen, I was the one who watched him baking enough scones to feed an entire royal garden party and was like “Hey. We should open a coffee shop. You run the kitchen. I’ll do everything else.”
And it worked, because he’s a Type A, too.
When he met Claire, the kitchen was no longer his only passion. He courted her with as much white-hot energy as a restaurant critic displays when writing up a runny and deflated cheese souffle.
So I should suddenly know what to do when I meet a guy I want after years of being like, “Meh, maybe.” towards every single guy in town. Right?
No! I’m over here juggling random ideas like a trash panda who found a box of expired doughnuts. Nothing is getting done. Nothing. I start one job, work on it for three minutes, then stop and stare. I’m frozen. I try another thing, and freeze again, too distracted to move while my mind is spinning. The motor is racing, and the wheels are on blocks.
But my figurative language has never been more on point.
I know how to seduce. I think. Never tried.
Do I seduce? Would that be wrong? I blame the Orc side for this one. Thanks, Dad. You gave me the freaky possessive urge to mate instead of date.
“Oh, God. Why me? Why him?” I fold up on the counter in the empty shop.
Almost empty.
“Hello? Georgia?”
I bounce up and paste a perky smile on my face. It’s Renaldo, Claire’s honorary dad. Everyone calls him Pop. “Hi, Pop! How are you?”
“I’m good, sweetheart. How are you coping, running this place all by yourself?” he asks, his face wrinkling in concern.
“Oh, I’m fine. Just fine.”
I sound like I might suddenly have hysterics.
Pop can tell. He puts down a fancy white box on the counter and frowns at me. “Do you want some help? You know, Claire was saying that you might need a delivery driver.”
“We’re done for the day, Pop, it’s not that. I’m... It’s a personal problem. What’s in the box?”
He pats it proudly. “I got my Claire two aprons. One says ‘Cupcake’ because that’s what I’ve called her ever since she was little. The other says ‘Cakes by Claire.’”
“She’s going to melt. What a sweet wedding present.”
“Wedding present? Oh no, these are just because she’s a wonderful girl. The daughter I’ve always wanted, and now fate has let me have her. Fate is funny that way. Claire had to lose so much so I could gain something. Sometimes I feel selfish, but then I think about what else she has,” he gestures to the coffee shop, the expansion that will be her own bakery, and the floor above where she’ll make a home for her family.
I nod. “Gotta lose to win, sometimes.”
Renaldo studies me. “You afraid of losing something? Your brother?”
“No, no. Claire can share Georgie, I won’t mind. And I’m relieved to have more help around the shop, actually.” I lick my lips. “You and Madge are serious, right?”
Renaldo leans forward and pats the counter. “Claire will make us our wedding cake within the year.”
I suppress a squeal and put my hand over his, squeezing it. “I’ll let you tell her.”
“You’d better!”
“Well, as thrilled as I am for you guys, I’m a little jealous, too. I like... someone. He’s older. He’s a widower. I know he’s had a rough time mourning his late wife and he’s going through a lot—”
“Douglas Wickstaff? Drives a white Land Rover?”
I blink. “You don’t even live in Pine Ridge. How do you know so much?”
“Oh, I was over with Ian at Manny’s Automotive and saw him asking to buy the rental. Your father was telling me all about him.”
I’m not sure if Renaldo’s knowledge makes it easier or harder to open up. “I like him a lot, but I’m not sure what to do about it. You met Madge a little later in life,” I say, trying to be tactful.
“Very late, chica. I know.”
“Did that make you want to plunge in? Go slow? Be friends first?”
Renaldo thinks for a moment. His face smooths into a dreamy smile, and the years drop away. Even though he must be somewhere around sixty, I can suddenly envision him as a dashing young man, cutting a smart swath in his doorman’s uniform.
“You realize that your years are speeding by. They go faster with every one that passes. For me, I wanted to dive in the second I met Madge. Something about her absolutely...” he sighs and looks utterly enraptured, “ captivates me. But that’s me. Now, I know grief, Georgia. It’s a beast that you can fight, but never really kill. You can just drive it away, each time pushing it back a little farther. Someday it’ll be a tame creature that doesn’t do much harm when it comes to call.”
“You’re very wise.”
“Thank you. So, did you just want to vent, or did you want advice?”
I smile. “Most men I’ve met don’t know to ask that question.”
“Most men you’ve met didn’t get paid to sit behind a desk and listen to people’s petty complaints all day.” He winks at me and taps the box on the counter with one beautifully buffed nail.
“Advice, I think. I don’t promise to take it.”
“Then I’ll just tell you that if Douglas is anything like me, he knows he’d better make good use of his time, but maybe he’s scared to do anything about it. He could be set in his ways and used to being alone. He may think that he’s doomed to end up alone at the end—I know I thought that until I met Madge. After all, you’re a gorgeous young woman with a thriving business. Maybe he’s thinking, ‘What have I got to offer her?’” Renaldo shrugs, hands thrown out dramatically.
That’s probably all true—but it’s not advice. I nudge, “But what am I supposed to do about it?”
Renaldo smirks. “Show him what he’s missing. Make him part of your life if you want him in it. If he wants to be in it too, he’ll stay.”
“You make it sound like I’m training a puppy.” I cross my arms and shake my head at his gleeful, impish look. There’s devilment in his eyes—and I can see why Madge would be a sucker for that naughty grin.
Renaldo lowers his voice. “I will tell you something else, but it’s not very politically correct.”
“Oh?” Well. This could be fun. Or horrible.
“All men have a little bit of a beast in them. For the right woman, the beast is loyal and protective. To bad men?” Renaldo pounds his fist down on the glass counter, rattling the napkin dispenser and the coins in the tip jar. “He shows his fangs. Or tusks, in the case of your fellow.”
Thinking about Douglas being protective and loyal turns me gooey inside. Protective and beast-like somehow morphs into him guarding my naked body, snarling over me, rubbing his tusks against my tight, aching nipples and maybe even my—
I can’t think these thoughts in front of Pop.
“That’s good advice. Show him he’s wanted. Needed.” Oh, God. So damn needed. “Good advice, Pop,” I repeat in a hoarse voice.
Renaldo chuckles and picks up the box. “I’ll put this behind the counter in the bakery to surprise Claire when she comes home, and then I’ll show myself out.” He gives me a wink and whistles as he walks away.
Smug, isn’t he?
But maybe he’s right. Just adding Douglas into my life could make him decide he wants to stay in it.
“Wait. Pop!” I go skittering after him, but he’s already gone out through the back door of the new addition.
I lean against the wall and tap my head against it, eyes searching the ceiling. Thunk, thunk, thunk.
Exactly how am I supposed to show Douglas that I want him in my life?