Chapter 9 – Grace
The owner practically threw us a parade in her joy over having customers, and she talked so much it was hard to look at anything because I kept having to answer her questions or laugh at her jokes.
It was also hard to concentrate because Dean was right there, quietly tethered to me. Yes, I was a grown woman, and I could hold a man’s hand in a fake sting operation for five minutes without losing my mind. But it wasn’t just the hand holding with his palm pressed against mine like he never wanted to let me go. It was all the extra touching. Our arms brushing against each other. Our hips. I was getting a trial run at what it would feel like to be with Dean, and it was definitely not terrible.
When he turned and pressed a kiss to my temple, I’d had enough. I gave him a playful shove that somehow turned into him pulling me back in for a hug. He was just that smooth. Or maybe I was that weak .
I was touch starved. That was all. And the realization only emphasized the gaping difference between Dean’s world and mine. Compatible, my foot.
“What are you doing?” I whispered in his ear. Hugs were meant to be temporary things, but he hadn’t let me go, and I couldn’t bring myself to shrug him off. He was so warm. Dean was a portable heater, and I was so very tired of winter. Plus, he smelled good. His cologne was inviting without being overpowering, just like his hugs, dang it.
“PDA makes people back off,” he murmured. “Regardless of their level of comfort with it. Take a look.”
I glanced up over his shoulder, and sure enough, the owner had her head turned to give us privacy. She was straightening things that were not askew. Humming to distract herself. Definitely not a PDA fan then.
Dean twirled me out with the hand holding mine, taking us closer to the counter, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes lasered in on the contents of the cases even while looking for all the world like he didn’t have a care. He did that a lot. Putting up a laid-back vibe so you didn’t realize how closely he paid attention to things. I’d be thinking about that for a while.
As for the shop, from what I could tell, this place had once been leased by an actual jeweler, with the bright lights, the black velvet lining, the thick glass, and all the locks on the cases. It looked odd to see beaded necklaces and baubles behind glass when their prices were as low as ten dollars.
The owner had assured us we could try on whatever we wanted but asking felt like a chore. I only did it because I knew Dean needed me to.
I tried out a few bracelets, a necklace Dean insisted on helping me clasp in the back, and then I picked out a pair of square crystal drop earrings to buy. Dean would never let me pay, but I still purposely chose something I would have chosen for myself if he wasn’t here, something everyday pretty and modestly priced .
Another couple stepped into the shop just as we were stepping out, the girl in front, and the guy right behind her with his mouth practically glued to her neck. I gave Dean a look.
“I would never,” he said, trying not to laugh.
“Good, because I’m not a fan of vampires.” Not that Dean needed to know my PDA preferences from here on out. The ruse was over. I dropped his hand. “Did you get what you needed?”
He nodded. “I did. So now let’s talk about you.” He led me over to his car and opened the passenger door for me before going around and getting in, suddenly all business again.
His car smelled good too. Like expensive leather and his cologne, and it still had its new car smell, which made no sense, because he’d had this Audi for a few years. He had other vehicles, but he drove this one the most.
I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes for a moment. Even the quiet sounded expensive. My car didn’t have this kind of soundproofing. My car had cloth seats and the perpetual scent of fries, because Piper always managed to drop them into the abyss where all food pieces go when you eat in your car. I vacuumed regularly, but I couldn’t quite eradicate it.
I opened my eyes and turned to see Dean frowning at a tablet he had propped up on the console between us, his lips pursed in concentration.
When he noticed me watching him, he cleared his throat. “Let me start by saying, I don’t believe they could run you out of business. I do think they could start a price war that would make you have to run leaner, and that would be unpleasant. They might make you want to quit.”
“Or reconsider selling to them?”
“Exactly. But they’d definitely offer you less money the next time.”
“After my earnings dropped.”
“Mm-hm.”
“It’s all so cut-throat. Should I even sell to someone who does business like that? ”
Dean gave me a sad smile. “It’s very corporate. It’s the opposite of how you go about treating people, and that’s a good thing.”
“Is that how you do business, Dean?” I shouldn’t have asked, because it had nothing to do with helping me, and everything to do with my curiosity.
I think he knew that, based on the smile that ghosted across his face before answering. “Not unless they start it. And with that in mind, if you sell, it will be with a deal that will send them straight into a private meeting shouting and pointing fingers at each other. That’s why it’s a very good thing you have me.”
“Your gigantic ego is the thing I like best about you.”
“Thank you.” He smiled bigger, not the least bit offended, before turning serious once again. “If you were dead set against selling, I’d go to them on your behalf and tell them never to contact you again or set foot on your property. We could escalate it from there if necessary. We could make it a PR nightmare for them if they did decide to open up shop right by you.”
“That’s door number one.”
“Yeah. So, let’s figure out if you really want to sell or not. I’m going to ask you a series of questions. Don’t think too long, just answer. Are you ready?”
“I’m ready.” If it would somehow help me make up my mind, I was all for it. Business owners were supposed to be decisive, but that had never been me.
“Okay, a customer comes into your shop, but it’s no longer yours. They miss the way things used to be. On a scale from one to ten, how badly do you feel? One is not bad at all. Ten is a broken heart.”
I felt a twinge of sadness and took in a deep breath before answering. “Six.”
“The money you get from the sale after taxes is enough to give you time to pivot to a new career, but it won’t support you and Piper indefinitely. Are you scared to hear that? Scale of one to ten. One, not scared at all. Ten, terrified.”
I’d been treating illustration work like a secret hobby, but I could do more. I already had the connections and the experience. “Four.”
“Really?” Dean leaned forward, a lock of hair falling across his forehead. “What do you plan to do?” he asked.
“I’m not ready to say.”
“Oh, come on.”
I sat back and folded my arms. “I’m ready for the next question.”
“Fine.”
He gave me a few more, testing out things like how I felt about relinquishing control, how much I liked my routine, what I liked best about owning a business, and what I dreaded most when I woke up in the morning.
He knew. He knew the day-to-day business was wearing on me, and it embarrassed me deeply to have to admit it, even in a generic quiz. Dean lived and breathed business ownership. What must he think of me?
He kept his face blank as he typed out notes, adding no commentary on my answers. I wanted commentary. Even a good scolding would be better than my own assumptions.
“This feels an awful lot like a doctor’s visit.”
“Hmm.” He typed some more. “Yes. We can definitely rule out type 2 diabetes.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
“Maybe I can help make this feel less clinical for you. Next question, on a scale of one to ten, how attractive do you find me?” His eyebrows rose in expectation, and the more I sputtered, the bigger his smile grew. This was not the pivot I’d had in mind.
“Dean.”
“Grace.”
“I’m not answering that. Wait, why are you still typing? ”
I moved to shut the tablet on his dancing fingers, and he pulled it out of reach, resting his back against the driver-side window with the tablet protected by his knees. All scrunched up like that, I could see his socks had sleeping sloths on them. And he had on a new yellow silicone bracelet under his dress shirt sleeve. Nerd.
“Your time is up for answering that one. A non-answer means ten. Good to know.”
“You’re not a ten.” He was totally a ten.
He laughed, enjoying this way too much. “Okay, on a scale of one to ten, what are my chances with you?”
“Chances of what?” His flirting was so outrageous. I wanted to hate it, but there were few things that got my heart pumping these days, and this one didn’t even involve fighting my way into a sports bra or telling myself to do ten more reps and then I could pause the workout video.
“You know what.” He locked eyes with mine, and it felt like every fantasy I’d ever had about him was falling against the door of the utility closet where I kept it all. The mops, the buckets, the brooms, the gallons of floor cleaner. And I was holding it shut with willpower and prayer.
“I definitely don’t know what.”
“Deflection,” he murmured, typing some more. He was probably typing gibberish just to annoy me. “Client is calm but flushed in the face. Will require further inquiry. Next question. How many more days are you going to continue to pay for GoWithFriends while not using the app?”
I scrubbed my hands down my face. “I don’t know.”
Dean closed his tablet and looked up at me. “Please come back. Everyone misses you. And they also rightly blame me for driving you away. Jackson told everyone what I did to you. I’m getting called a dastard pretty much daily. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was. It was selfish of me.”
“How was it selfish?” Dishonest was the word that came to mind .
“Because I wanted a clean slate with you, and I took it when the opportunity presented itself. The Grace in the app isn’t afraid of Knead, and I liked that.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” It was mostly true. I’d never been afraid to put Dean in his place when the moment called for it, but that wasn’t the fear he was referring to, and we both knew it.
He smiled. “Glad to hear you say that. Because I’d like you to go with me to Jessica’s wedding. Piper, too, if you plan to bring her. I’ll take care of flights and get us a rental car. I’ll take care of everything. All you have to do is say yes. Jessica wants you there, and so do I.”
I shook my head, letting my irritation take full rein, because on its heels was temptation, and that needed to be squelched. It was too much. HE was too much. As a businessman who understood negotiation tactics, it was his job to look for weaknesses, and in this case, mine were overwhelm and indecision.
Of course, he’d take care of everything. Even the decision to go. Poof. All taken care of. And in return, he’d get what? The pleasure of my company? What did that even mean? This was just like flirting. All subtext and subterfuge. Why couldn’t he just say what he meant?
Would you let him?
No, I would not let him, because he was Dean and I was me. I was a mess. And how could I even go on vacation with my business in jeopardy? What if I was needed here? And how had the subject changed to this?
“What were the results of the quiz? The real questions?” I tried not to sound snooty, but I was holding in so much emotion I was sure ice queen Grace was on point.
Dean swallowed. “I think you’re in a position to sell under the right circumstances. So, if you’re in agreement, we should get the paperwork together for them to look at and let them make you an offer.”
“Okay. ”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been less than professional, and anyway, I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair. He still hadn’t cut it, and today he was sporting some jaw-defining scruff I didn’t hate.
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. I needed a way to fix this. After all, he was going out of his way to help me, and I’d just turned up my nose at his flirting. “Um, whether I go to the wedding kind of depends on how this all shakes out, doesn’t it?”
“Plan to go, Grace.”
“Okay, I will. But do you understand why it makes me uncomfortable to have you throw money at me?”
“Yes. It was an overstep.”
“Okay, yeah. What’s next then? For the business?” Nothing felt fixed, but Dean took my cue to move on and we were back to talking about tax returns and profit margins.
My brother Isaac still did my bookkeeping, even though he’d stepped away from the day-to-day running of the floral shop. Which meant filling him in on the situation. Honestly, I should have included him from the start.
Dean and I made a plan to meet at Isaac and Carmen’s house at eight to go over the books. He texted Carmen, and she was more than happy to keep Piper occupied for us.
I left with my heart both heavier and lighter. I owed Dean so much, but I couldn’t seem to give him the one thing he really wanted: the unguarded, fun version of me. Maybe it was too much to ask.