Chapter 4
FOUR
CHLOE
I’d just curled up on the couch for the night when my phone rang.
Snatching it off the cushion beside me, I saw my sister’s face on the display. “Hey, Mia,” I greeted her.
“Hi, Chloe. How’s it going?”
Her soft voice put a smile on my face. Mia and I might have been twins, but our personalities were so different.
I was much more outspoken and confident, like our dad, and she was much more reserved, like our mom.
Despite that, she was my best friend, and there wasn’t anything I didn’t share with her.
I was already itching to tell her in great detail precisely how things had been going for me, but I wanted to give her an opportunity to share whatever was on her mind first.
“It’s good. I just had dinner and was preparing for a night of mindless television. What about you?”
She sighed. “I’m giving myself a break.”
“A break? Have you been writing all day?”
The laugh that came through the line was not one that indicated happiness. “I wish. I’ve spent the entire day brainstorming, and I’m no further along in the process than I was this morning. I’ve gotten nothing accomplished.”
While receiving a phone call like this wasn’t common, it wasn’t exactly a surprise, either.
My sister was an author—a brilliant one, at that—and on occasion, she’d get stuck on a book.
Most times, she’d share some details about the story with me, explain where she was struggling, and through the discussion, she’d often figure it out.
It helped her to have a sounding board, and I didn’t mind being that person for her.
“Tell me what’s going on in this book,” I urged her.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“I’m starting a new one, and I’m having a tough time figuring out who these characters are,” she explained. “You know I like to have a very clear idea of them and the direction of the story before I get started.”
“Alright. Well, what do you have so far?”
“Uh, there’s going to be a happy ending.”
Laughter spilled out of me. “Mia, you write romance novels. I figured that much. Are you telling me that’s all?”
“Yep. Maybe I’m losing my mojo. Maybe all the years of not finding my own true love is making it difficult to believe in the fairytale,” she reasoned, her despair evident.
My heart squeezed. We wanted that. All of us.
My sister, me, and our closest friends. In a group of eleven—six girls and five boys—that had been as thick as thieves since we were born, only one of the guys had found his happy ending.
Obviously, we were all thrilled for Taj, and we adored his girlfriend Olivia, but I’d have been lying if I said the rest of us weren’t hoping something similar was on the horizon.
Tessa had started dating someone she’d recently met, but it was still too early to tell where things were headed for them.
“You still believe in the fairytale,” I insisted. “And trust me when I say that your guy is out there. He just hasn’t found you yet. But I know he’s on the way.”
She groaned. “Ugh, I know. I’m just frustrated.”
Maybe I’d be able to help her out, offer a suggestion, and get what I needed to share off my chest at the same time. “Alright. Let’s come up with some characters for you. How about your female character be some kind of business owner? Maybe she owns her own shop in a small town.”
“Like a flower shop?”
I’d been thinking a cake shop, but I didn’t tell her that. “A flower shop is perfect.”
“Alright, and what’s her story?”
“She’s ready to find love. Working in her shop, she sees all the people coming in to purchase flowers for various special occasions, and though she loves what she does, she’s longing for the day someone is going to buy flowers for her.”
“I’d say we’re off to a decent start, Chloe. What about the guy? What’s his deal?”
Images of Hawk immediately danced in my mind.
“We don’t know. That’s the problem. The heroine meets him one day, belatedly learning that he’s worked at one of the businesses just a few doors down from her flower shop for nearly two years.
The minute she sees him, she’s completely captivated.
He’s covered in tattoos, and there’s a mysteriousness about him.
But his deep voice and handsome face are enough to make this woman ready to fall to her knees. ”
“And him?” Mia had gone from being frustrated to utterly curious.
My lips curved into a smile. “He barely takes notice of her. And when she bounds over to him, needing to make him remember her, he brushes her off. He’s very short with her, and she leaves feeling completely shattered.”
“This sounds awful,” Mia murmured.
“But isn’t that tension what’s going to make for a great story?
” I countered. “This guy is broken. He desperately needs love, but he’s holding himself back.
He’s got a past that makes him keep himself secluded from others.
Deep down, though, he’s a really sweet guy who deserves more than he allows himself to have.
And after a few not-so-random encounters, this guy is powerless to resist the heroine.
They’ll have to deal with some struggles, obviously, as he works through this new relationship, but in the end, it’s the greatest thing for both of them. ”
When I finished, I sat there, thinking of the possibilities. Could I make all that I’d just shared with my sister a reality for Hawk and me? What I would give to have that man wrap his arms around me just once before he touched me with those strong hands.
I was so lost in thought; it took me a minute to realize my sister hadn’t responded.
“Mia?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you… You didn’t say anything. Is this a terrible idea? Did I just make your job more difficult?”
“No. No, actually, I think it’s great. It’s just that…”
“What?”
My sister hesitated for a beat. “This feels oddly specific. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that perhaps you got into the wrong profession.”
I expected nothing less from her.
The truth was that I was no storyteller. Not like her, anyway. But I could certainly share a real-life situation.
“Fine. It’s me.”
“What?”
“I’m the owner of the flower shop.”
A lengthy silence ensued. “And you met a guy who works at a business a few doors down?”
Nodding, I revealed, “At the furniture store.”
“Are you saying… Is everything you shared what actually happened?”
“Pretty much.”
“Tell me everything, and don’t pretend to be a flower shop owner,” she ordered.
As meek as my sister typically was, she was such a loyal and protective person. If she believed anyone she loved was hurting, she would seek to make things better without thinking twice about it.
“His name is Hawk. And before you ask, I don’t know if that’s a nickname or his real name,” I began.
I went on to tell her about everything that had happened, from the day I’d first met him and all but forced a lemon cupcake on him until the day I gave him the Neapolitan cupcakes as a peace offering.
When I finished sharing, Mia murmured, “Oh my. So, now what?”
It was my turn to sigh with frustration.
“I don’t know. I wish I had a crystal ball that could tell me how things will end up, but I don’t.
All I know is that I cannot stop thinking about this man and how badly I want to be the one to help heal him and get him through whatever’s weighing on his mind.
Honestly, I was hoping you’d be able to tell me what to do. ”
“Me? How could I possibly do that?”
Maybe it was desperation that led me to say it, but I reasoned, “This is what you do for a living. If you were writing this story, what would you have your female character do?”
Mia didn’t hesitate. “I’d have her go after him. She’d find ways to be in his space, to make it impossible for him to ignore her. And eventually, he’d have no choice but to cave and give in to the temptation.”
Suddenly, no less than a dozen ideas popped into my head of the things I could do to put myself in Hawk’s space. “You’re the best, Mia. Do you know that?”
Soft laughter came through the line. “I do. But can I give you one piece of advice?”
“You know you can.”
“Be careful.”
There was uneasiness in her voice that made my brows knit together. “What makes you say that?”
Following another pause, she said, “If this were a story I was writing, something would happen.”
“What?”
“The couple would get through their initial hurdle of the hero’s hesitance to open his heart, but as soon as he does, as soon as they get comfortable, something would happen to threaten their newfound love.”
I smiled. “I appreciate that warning, but this is real life. It’s not some story that’s going to have this tragic ending.”
“Of course not. Love stories don’t have tragic endings. But they have challenges, and you need to prepare yourself for whatever that might be.”
Fair enough. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Now, did I do anything to help you out here, or are you still stuck?”
Her voice had perked back up. “I think I’m going to write a story about a broken hero and the woman who heals his heart.”
“I can’t wait to read it.”
“Thanks, Chloe. I love you.”
“No, Mia. Thank you. And I love you, too.”
We said goodbye and disconnected the call. Then I spent the rest of the night staring at the television while thinking about all the ways I was going to try to slowly convince Hawk to open his heart to me.
Once I’d made up my mind, there was little that could have stopped me. Maybe nothing at all, if I’m honest.
Best of all, I’d immediately jumped on the easiest thing I could come up with to see Hawk again without it seeming so obvious.
After having met with Joyce days ago to talk about her great grandson’s birthday cake, where I’d told her I’d come up with a few ideas for the design of the cake, I’d done some brainstorming. And today, I was going to take those ideas to her so she could make the decision.