Chapter 31
31
A very stared out at the moonlight on the ocean from the cozy corner of the breakfast nook in her cottage and lifted the hot chocolate to her lips.
Warmth and rich chocolate coated her mouth and drenched her tongue, and Avery let her eyes slide closed so she could savor the beauty of it. The only thing that could make this better was a hit of Bailey’s Irish Cream.
And Trace.
Her phone vibrated against the table, pulling Avery from that impossible fantasy with a painful jerk. She ignored the message, but her mind drifted to all the texts, voice mails, and e-mails she’d gotten from people not just all over Wildwood but from all over the county and beyond, fussing over the fact that she’d put her website and her space at Wildly Artesian on holiday status.
As for rumors that she was giving up on Wild Harts, those she quashed immediately, explaining she was taking time away to finalize details and recharge for the opening.
Which was true.
Sort of.
She’d done a lot of work in that direction, but she hadn’t tackled the most important task—replacing Trace. That still felt too...too permanent? Too disloyal? She only knew she hadn’t been able to deal with the thought of having someone else go in and finish what Trace started.
He chose to leave.
Her cell vibrated with another e-mail. Avery groaned and rubbed her eyes.
The outpouring of interest created a strange mix of gratitude and anxiety—gratitude for the interest and the business, anxiety that she wasn’t fulfilling every order. But it was good to know that even after everything that had happened, there was still an overwhelming interest in her bakery and café. She wished she could share that with Trace.
With a focused, deep breath, Avery forced the anxiety to quiet, reminding herself like she had every five minutes over the last three days that her mission in life was not to make everyone else happy, but to make herself happy first .
If she were to truly make herself happy first, she’d already have hunted down Trace and hashed out what still felt like an ugly knot between them until she could fall into his arms and he would catch her.
“You can’t make him stay,” she reminded herself. “You can’t make him love you.”
And she shouldn’t even want him to.
She’d been doing this round-and-round game for three days, and she was ready to trade heads with anyone who had more control over their thoughts than she did.
Her computer chimed with her scheduled Skype call from Delaney.
Avery breathed a sigh of relief, hoping her sister could break this cycle, and clicked into the software. Her sister appeared on the screen with a tired smile. “Hey there. Before we start, I do not want to know how amazing the beach is. I do not want to know how beautiful the weather is. And I do not want to know how relaxed you are. Deal?”
Avery frowned. “Trouble with the pub?”
“No, I just want a vacation. Want my boy all to myself for a few days.”
Yeah, Avery could relate. She may not have a boy anymore, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still covet the one who’d been hers for such a short time.
“So, you’ve had three days to relax, get your mind headed down the right path again,” Delaney said. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” Avery looked at the charts and lists she had laid out around the table. “I’ve nailed down two cooks, a part-time baking assistant, four waitresses, four kitchen staff, and a commercial cleaning service. I just need to get them start dates. I also signed on with Shannon’s bookkeeper. But I’m still looking for an assistant for me and a manager for the café. Lots of applications, but I haven’t found those perfect fits yet.”
“Holy shit.” Delaney gave her a shocked-but-irritated look. “What happened to the decompressing part?”
“It’s called boredom.”
“It’s going to be called burnout if you don’t let yourself relax.”
“How can I not relax on this gorgeous beach with this perfect weather?—”
Delaney stuck her fingers in her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. “La-la-la-la-la...”
Avery grinned and took another sip of her chocolate.
When Delaney stopped acting like a two-year-old, she said, “That is not the kind of vacation I had in mind. How’d you do all that from a little cottage by the sea?”
She rested her elbow on the arm of the chair and her chin in her hand. “Same way I’m doing it now.”
Delaney shook her head. “Well, when you get back you can turn in that tin can rental car. Kevin at Dent Pros pounded out the Jeep’s hatch and repaired the latch. It’s not exactly pretty, but it’s functional. It should tide you over until you can spare some cash for something nicer.”
Avery thought of Trace again. Wondered what other side effects he might be suffering from the trauma. Thought about asking, then pushed it aside. “That’s great. I’m so glad the insurance is going to come through for you.”
“I sent you the completed police report. I think you’ll find it...enlightening.”
Avery made a face. “I’m not quite ready to read that.”
Delaney nodded. “Did you get my e-mail about your menus?”
“I did,” she said, thankful for the change of subject, “and I’ve streamlined the website offerings to coordinate with Wildly Artesian, which will cut back on the number of products and create a rotating schedule of items so there’s always something new available.”
“Sweet.”
Avery bit her lip against the urge to ask Delaney if she’d seen Trace. If he was okay. If he’d left town. If she knew where he’d gone...
Instead, she cleared her throat and tackled the hulking elephant clinging to her back like a chimpanzee. “I guess I should get someone to finish up the construction.”
“I walked through with the building inspector yesterday,” Delaney said. “He’s ready to sign off as soon as that corner of the roof is finished and the appliances are in. I have to tell you, he’s impressed as hell at the work Trace has done. Said he’s never had inspections go as easily as they have with Trace at the helm.”
Avery’s heart swelled and grew heavy. Her ribs felt small and achy. “Yeah, well, you know your contractors. I guess it’s time to toss me a few more referrals.”
“I’ll ask around, get numbers of people who might be available on short notice, and e-mail them tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” Avery said, suddenly tired and sad. “I miss you. How’s Phoebe?”
“We both miss you, too. She’s fine. Busy as usual.”
A moment of silence stretched, and Avery stared out at the strip of ocean illuminated in cool white light. The depression that had been circling for days now settled in, making her feel melancholy and lost.
“Do you want to talk about Trace, Avery?”
His name sent a shock wave through her chest. She looked at the screen. “I’m just still really...I don’t know, confused , I guess.” So many thoughts and feelings crowded her; she felt too small for her body. She shook her head, overwhelmed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him.”
Avery disconnected with her sister, feeling anxious and unsettled. She pulled on a hoodie with plans to venture out onto the sand for a long walk when the phone rang.
She groaned and checked the display. Vince Brady’s name came up.
Avery answered. “Hey there, Vince.”
“Hi, Avery. Hey, I’m sorry to bother you while you’re taking a few days off, but I just wanted to touch base with you to let you know that with the drought and all we’re coming into the end of the season a little early. I know you like all your produce fresh and we’re doing our final harvest on pecans, almonds, and walnuts this week. Thought I ought to tell you.”
“Oh...” That news spun Avery when she wasn’t expecting it. She knew what day it was, knew how many days she had to each holiday. But somehow the end of harvest gave Avery a whole different perspective. It signaled a sharp sales peak over the holidays, then several long, quiet months before summer.
Suddenly, Avery’s mind tripped into gear with this hit of urgency, and her mind churned over recipes, cash flow, and storage space.
“I need to do a little planning,” she told him. “Can I call you back in a few?”
After a quick look over her finances, she saw what she feared: she was going to have to choose between landscaping for the café and grabbing the nuts fresh at a bulk price, which would save her money in the long run.
But if she didn’t get over herself and find a contractor to finish the damn café, she risked getting such a late start on the holiday season that it wouldn’t be worth opening the café until summer. If that happened, she would be both putting her life on hold again and falling backward financially.
Her stubborn streak flared. No. She’d come way too far for that.
She picked up her phone and texted Delaney. Can you get the information on the guy Trace suggested? A contractor friend who had a job fall through? I’m coming home tomorrow.
Then she dialed Vince’s line at Brady Farms and started toward the bedroom to pack.