Chapter 6
six
R osalyn shook the dwindling ice in her cup, then swiped a yellow highlighter across the next line on the spreadsheet. “Has the film company called you back yet?”
“Not yet.” Cade set down his iPad and leaned back in his chair. Was it her imagination, or did his eyes linger on her a moment? She looked away before she could decide.
The afternoon sun that seemed to have wilted the potted plant in its path warmed her legs. She’d acquired a barefoot, crisscross-apple-sauce position in the chair opposite Cade’s desk, papers strewn across her lap. The AC from the vent above blew across her cheeks. It felt right being here—like they’d been a team for much longer than a few hours. They’d grudgingly worked together at various times over their years at school, but always toward individual goals.
The collaboration was nice. And a good distraction from the consuming question marks about her future.
“I’ll bug them in a few hours if I don’t hear from them.” Cade fiddled with a pencil on his desk. “Like Dad always says, the squeaky wheel gets the grease.”
“You’re hardly squeaky or greasy, Landry.” More like smooth and charming. But she wouldn’t say that, wouldn’t let his head get any bigger or risk more unnecessary chemistry revealing on her part.
This time she didn’t have to look up to feel his grin.
“So you don’t see me as a hamster. That’s good to know.”
His pencil tapped a rhythm. “How’s that cross-checking coming along?”
Rosalyn marked another line. “Everything matches up so far.” She was making sure all the registered vendors for the Magnolia Days had paid their deposit. “But this one for Big Al’s Porta-Potties has an asterisk?”
“Yeah, the city is paying for those. Just need to confirm the dates with Al.” Cade rocked forward, his feet thumping on the floor under his desk. “I’ll do that now, actually. I keep forgetting.” Then he hesitated, one hand resting on the landline receiver. “Thanks for doing this, by the way. I hate that I’m keeping you from your workout.”
“It’s no problem. I’ll get to it later.” The idea of practicing completely alone in Lettie’s studio didn’t hold the appeal it would’ve even a year ago. Laughing at Cade’s candy wrapper trash and quirky organizational tactics, however, held plenty.
Or maybe, like she suspected of Cade, she didn’t want to admit the inevitable—they were both in over their heads.
“The last time I saw you surrounded by colored pens and highlighters was senior year study group.” Cade unwrapped a package of Twizzlers.
“Man, I haven’t thought about that study group in a while.”
Cade offered her one of the red roped candies, and she shook her head. He pinched off a bite. “You bet me you’d win valedictorian.”
“What were our stakes, again?”
She remembered. But wanted to see if he did.
“If you lost, you said you’d sticky-note bomb the principal’s office.” Cade wrinkled his nose. “Still lame.”
“It was the most daring thing I could imagine myself actually doing in that situation.” Rosalyn laughed. Even now, she wasn’t sure if she could’ve actually gone through with it. She’d been on the Principal’s List all four years of school, and while a lot of the kids didn’t like Principal Davies, she’d respected him.
Which was why she couldn’t go through with the senior prank either.
Cade pointed his Twizzler at her. “I think you only agreed to the bet because you were confident you’d win.”
“That too.” She returned his smile. “You know, that reminds me…”
“That I lost?” He took another bite of licorice.
She shrugged, turning her attention back to her paperwork. “You never paid your penalty.” Her heartbeat accelerated. Oh, this was a bad idea. Had she learned nothing from the coffee shop?
“I didn’t, did I?”
His casual tone was either a massive put-on, or he hadn’t thought about it over the years like she had. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know which. After all, Cade was Cade, which meant all flirt and no follow through. Hadn’t she seen him break the hearts of half the cheerleading squad and most of the dance line?
She might’ve added herself to that list, if not for Amber and Gabby and the rest of her group reminding her men weren’t worth it. Grades before guys. Or, as Amber said in sixth grade— college before cooties.
Rosalyn tossed back her hair and slid the highlighter across the next line, trying to match Cade’s breezy tone as he went back to tapping a pencil. “Only Cade Landry would’ve bet kissing the winner if he lost.”
He paused mid-tap. “Maybe because that would’ve made me a winner too.”
Rosalyn’s stomach flipped and her hand trembled. Wait. He’d wanted to kiss her? She’d always taken it as a joking insult—it was a penalty for losing. Yet another way to tease her in their competitive dynamic. He’d never brought up the bet again after their scores were announced, and neither had she. She’d been updating college resumes and writing her speech for graduation.
She cleared her throat. “Prince Charming called. He’d like his lines back.”
Cade laughed. “Mine are way better.”
Were they only lines?
“I heard everything and came as fast as I could.”
Rosalyn twisted around at the sudden female voice behind her, in time to see a woman carrying a white bakery box breeze across the office.
She tossed the package on Cade’s desk. “Not to be dramatic.”
Cade’s face lit like a New York City skyline. “I don’t know what you heard, Zoey, but I hope whoever told you tells you again tomorrow.” He eagerly reached for the box marked Bayou Beignets, stamped with a black and sage green fleur-de-lis logo.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” The woman dropped into the desk chair beside Rosalyn with a flourish and extended her hand. “Zoey Lakewood, resident baker.”
“Rosalyn Dupree.” They shook. Then Rosalyn pointed to the box. “Is that your shop?”
“It is.” Zoey lifted her delicate chin and beamed. “I opened it about a year and a half ago.”
“Already award-winning too. Best dessert on the island.” Cade made a show of deciding which beignet to choose from the carton.
Zoey wore a loose black tank front-tucked into jeans. She seemed pretty familiar with Cade. Another old friend of his? Or…
Zoey squinted at her beneath thick, dark bangs. “Wait…Rosalyn. I think I saw you around school.” She snapped her fingers. “You were valedictorian, weren’t you?”
“Ugh. You had to remind her.” Cade dug into the bakery box.
Zoey ignored him. “I was a few grades behind you, but you were in the same class as my best friend, Elisa.” Her cornflower blue eyes widened. “Aren’t you famous now?”
Rosalyn shifted in her chair. “Not ex?—”
“Yes.” Cade gestured with the pastry in his hand, sending a sprinkling of white dust across his desk. “She is. And she’s here for the circus.”
“Ah. So you’re going to save Magnolia Bay.” Zoey pulled her legs up in her chair to match Rosalyn’s crisscross position. “Awesome.”
Again, with the pressure. “I don’t know about?—”
“ These are what’s awesome, Zoey.” Cade interrupted again. “And you threw in Cajun kolaches! You do love me.”
A strange sensation lit in Rosalyn’s stomach, a mix between a squeezing vise and a jabbing thorn.
Zoey grinned. “You’re my best customer—especially when you’re stressed.”
Cade brushed his hands together over his trashcan, ridding himself of excess powdered sugar. “So what did you mean by you heard ?”
Zoey folded her arms over her stomach. Her thin frame and short stature gave Rosalyn the impression of a dark-haired woodland fairy perched on oversized furniture. “That you needed help.”
Cade spun from the trashcan to face them. “Let me guess. Noah and Linc?”
Zoey made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. “I thought a sugar rush might help you be more productive.”
“You’re right. But why is everyone so suddenly concerned over my to-do list?” Cade sat back in his desk chair. “I’m not standing in Linc’s boat telling him how to crawfish.”
Zoey scoffed. “Well, of course not. That’d be ridiculous.”
“Exactly.”
“You have no idea how.” Zoey laughed.
Okay, maybe she liked Zoey. Rosalyn hid her smile behind her hand.
Cade picked up a kolache. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Don’t bite the hand that fed you.”
“That’s the only thing keeping me from kicking you out right now.” He set the kolache on a napkin. “Pearl will let anyone in here, won’t she?”
“Linc said you’re being stubborn. And I know for a fact you’ve already turned down two of Sadie’s ideas and filled half the volunteer slots with your own name.” Zoey leaned forward in her chair. “Magnolia Days is a community event—let the community help.”
Good point. Rosalyn locked her own gaze on Cade and raised her eyebrows.
His eyes darted between her and Zoey, and he slowed his speech to emphasize. “I don’t need help.”
“She’s helping.” Zoey nodded pointedly toward the spreadsheets in Rosalyn’s lap.
Cade bristled. “Rosalyn’s different.”
Her heart stuttered. And heat crawled up her neck, the thorn faded, leaving behind an even more uncomfortable realization—Rosalyn had been jealous.
She held up the paper. “I’m only marking paid vendors. It’s not a big task.”
“Really, Cade? Highlighting?” Zoey’s voice dipped. “There’s so much more that’s got to be dealt with.”
“I know, trust me. I got it.” A brittle edge coated his voice.
Suddenly, another figure landed in the doorway—Miley. She crossed her arms over her band tee and glowered. “That family of four just signed a lease.”
Cade palmed his face. “Is Pearl even out there?”
“They’re moving furniture into the pothole, Cade.” Miley stabbed her hands into her hair. “I face-timed my dad, and he’s losing it. He threw out the L-word.”
Great time for coffee . Zoey mouthed the words to Rosalyn as she jerked her head toward Miley. Rosalyn grinned again.
“L-word?” Cade frowned. “What? Loser?”
“Lawsuit.”
Cade’s face paled, then he stood, hands extended. His charming smile reappeared. “Look, Miley, I told you I’d handle?—”
The landline rang. Cade sighed loud enough to compete with the AC unit. “Hold that thought.”
He held up one finger as his cell buzzed from atop his desk. He glanced at the display, one hand still hovering in the air. Then his eyes widened and locked on Rosalyn’s as the landline jangled a second time. “It’s the assistant director.”
“Get it.” Rosalyn tossed the spreadsheets on the desk and sprang to her feet. Cade couldn’t miss this. “The rest can wait.”
“I’ll grab the other phone.” Zoey leaned over the desk and scooped up the black receiver before Cade could protest. “Buddy the Elf, what’s your favorite color?”
Miley snorted.
Cade’s face turned purple but all he could do was answer his cell. “Hey, Janie. Thanks for getting back with me.” He swept out of the room, his voice trailing behind him down the hall. “Yeah, it’s a great time, no worries.”
Rosalyn shook her head.
“That boy needs serious prayer.”
Miley was right. Rosalyn was already asking God to help Cade.
But would He hear her?
* * *
The quiet inside Magnolia Library hurt his ears. Or maybe because outside the cacophony of his office, Cade could finally hear his own looping, incessant thoughts.
“I figured you’d be more excited.” Rosalyn leaned against the high front desk of the library, currently unmanned save for a stack of bookmarks, a bell with a sign that read Ring for Assistance, and coupons for discount ice cream cones. A cutout banner of books, obviously colored by local children, strung cheerfully across the front of the counter, swirls of color escaping thin black borders.
“About the Friends of the Library booth? Oh yeah, I’m stoked.” They’d walked over to the library after Cade had returned from his call with Janie—and after he’d placated Miley with more promises about the pothole, thanked Zoey for the beignets and kicked her out , and agreed to come see Mrs. Peters, the head librarian, about her vendor booth.
After that chaotic last hour at work, he’d become a man on a mission to accomplish something, anything —which apparently, started with appeasing Mrs. Peters, who didn’t sound happy on the phone. With the mayoral campaign looming in his near future, he couldn’t afford another disgruntled town member. The stakes were higher now.
He had to prove himself trustworthy to lead.
“Not about the library booth, silly.” Rosalyn elbowed him in the side. “I meant about the film crew. That the scout is coming.”
“Oh, right. Well, nothing is a done deal yet.” He’d had to talk fast to convince Janie to even make that happen. The weary assistant had finally secured permission from her boss to send a scout the week of the circus, but only after Cade had name-dropped Rosalyn as a feature act.
But he didn’t want to admit that to her. He’d seen the way she blanched when Zoey talked about her saving Magnolia Bay. Rosalyn had never been the type to back down under pressure, but Cade didn’t want to risk overloading her. She seemed to have enough going on that she didn’t want to talk about.
Something else they had in common.
“Hey, it’s a start. And the town will be at its best during Magnolia Days.” Rosalyn straightened a stack of bookmarks on the counter so they aligned neatly with the pencil holder next to it. “I’m sure it’ll be an easy sell.”
“We’ll see.” Cade drummed his fingers on the counter. “I don’t want to count chickens.” That reminded him, he still hadn’t connected with the dancing poodles guy. He glanced at his watch. The more everyone tried to help him or worried about him doing everything alone, the more unorganized and forgetful he became. If people would trust him to be capable, maybe he could actually get something done.
Where was Mrs. Peters?
Cade double-tapped the bell right as the white-haired woman rounded the corner from the overflowing shelves behind the counter. Oops.
“Well, young Landry. I’m glad to see you’re in one piece.” Mrs. Peters smoothed the front of her 1990s burgundy pantsuit.
“You are?” Cade asked with a frown. “I mean…was there a doubt?” He doubted it at this point, after everything Dad dumped on him, but why would the librarian?
Mrs. Peters sniffed. “Apparently, the mayor’s office has been taken over by elves.”
Right. Cade fought to keep his expression neutral. Of all the people in town, of course she’d been the one on the phone when Zoey had jokingly answered his landline. “That was…my, ah, friend earlier.” No sense in ratting Zoey out.
Mrs. Peters sniffed again. “Highly unprofessional.”
“It was a joke, ma’am. Have you seen the movie Elf ?” Cade tapped the high desk between them with one finger. “No? Great film.”
She blinked at him through her glasses, unimpressed. “Television is for people who don’t read.”
“I actually do both.” Cade waggled his eyebrows, hoping for a grin, but her stoic expression never shifted. He sobered. “Reading is superior, of course.”
“Because the books are always better than the movies.” Rosalyn smiled at Mrs. Peters, who appeared to have noticed her for the first time.
“Rosalyn Dupree, is that you?” A sudden grin broke across the older woman’s face, taking several wrinkles and about ten years off her age.
Rosalyn dipped her head. “Yes ma’am. Been awhile.”
“ Rosalyn ?” A younger woman appeared behind Mrs. Peters, toting an armful of hardback books. Cade recognized her from high school but couldn’t place her name. She’d been one of Amber’s friends, hadn’t she? “That is you!”
“Harper! ” Rosalyn confirmed Cade’s suspicion. “I didn’t know you were working here.”
“About six months now.” Harper set the overflowing pile of books on the return rack and smiled, smoothing back her wavy red hair. “Planning on taking over one day.” She winked.
“ Hmph .” Mrs. Peters pursed her lips, then smiled as her gaze landed back on Rosalyn. She gestured proudly. “This girl here was one of my star readers.”
“I read.” Harper feigned offense as she motioned around the library. “Obviously.”
“Me too,” Cade added. “Thirty-two books, that one year.” He grinned.
Now it was Rosalyn’s turn to purse her lips at him.
Mrs. Peters prattled on. “Rosalyn was always in here checking out the classics and reminiscing about her favorite young adult novels.” The white-haired woman pointed down to the brightly decorated children’s section. “My goodness, but you must have read If You Give a Mouse a Cookie a hundred times.”
“So that’s why it was always checked out,” Cade joked.
Mrs. Peters frowned at him. “Harper will be handling our Friends of the Library booth for Magnolia Days. You’ll have to get with her about the story hour times, the used-book sale, and the like. I wanted to make sure you two were properly introduced and on the same page.”
Ha. “Same page.” Cade snorted. “Get it?”
Mrs. Peters’s eyebrows furrowed so deep, it appeared a caterpillar had roosted above her eyes.
Yep. She got it. Cade sobered again. “Harper and I go way back.” He nodded at the petite redhead, who had the decency to smile sheepishly from behind the counter. Maybe she, too, was remembering all the sexist quips she’d spouted at him in front of Amber a decade plus ago. “I didn’t realize you worked here either.”
“Probably because you’re not a frequent patron.” Mrs. Peters lifted her chin. “Too busy with the television, I’d imagine.”
What on earth had he done to this woman? Cade scanned back through his years of juvenile pranks, but couldn’t think of any that had?—
Oh, yeah.
He winced as images of a freshman-year dare filled his mind. The football team. Running under the moonlight. Balloons full of shaving cream dotting the library courtyard. They’d assumed the security guard, one of the players’ good-natured uncles, would stumble upon them on duty, but apparently, Mrs. Peters liked being early to work even back then.
Something else Dad had to bail Cade out of.
He sucked in a breath. “You know, Mrs. Peters, I really am sorry about that prank we?—”
“Well, look who it is!” Delia Boudreaux shuffled through the automatic doors of the library. Her short hair was freshly curled, her bright pink lipstick only slightly smeared. “Cade Landry, you never texted me back.”
“Mama D! Look who graduated from a walker to her cane.” Cade leaned in for a hug, grateful for a friendly face to balance the pursed lips still pointed in his direction. “I apologize for not spamming you back with a dozen flamingo emojis.” He should have. Mama D was a local favorite, and her surgery had been a long time coming. It was good to see her out and about.
“My Wordle score has improved too. I’ve averaging three guesses now.” She shook the cane at him. “As for this old thing, I keep reminding myself it’s better than the wheelchair I was in before my surgery.”
Cade stepped back to give her room. “Much better. You’ll be running the Magnolia 5k in no time.”
“I don’t know about all that, but I’ve got to be ready to dance at Noah and Elisa’s wedding.” Delia wiggled her hips. “Of course, he hasn’t proposed yet, but we all know it’s coming.”
Cade choked back a laugh. He couldn’t wait to tell Noah about this one.
Delia turned to Rosalyn. “And speaking of weddings, you must be Cade’s friend.”
Now he just choked. “Mama D, you know Rosalyn. We went to school together.”
“Rosalyn Dupree. Yes, now I see it.” Delia tilted her head back, her eyes gleaming. She’d known who Rosalyn was the whole time, the old bat. “You haven’t been home in a while, have you dear?”
“In longer than I would have liked.” Rosalyn accepted the hand Delia held out. “But it’s good to be back for a while.”
“You be sure to come by the diner. I’ll have Elisa give you some dessert on the house.” Delia grinned, still clutching Rosalyn’s hand. “Or maybe Cade could take you…”
Oh no. “You need to call that surgeon, Mama D.” Cade wrapped an arm around the woman’s stooped shoulders, freeing Rosalyn from her grip. “I think they accidentally took your social filter when they fixed your hip.”
Rosalyn covered her mouth with her hand and looked away. Harper ducked her head, but her shoulders silently shook behind a curtain of red hair.
“We can’t wait to watch you perform.” Mama D beamed. “I heard the rumors. You’re bringing our little circus up to an entirely different level.”
Rosalyn’s eyes darted to Cade, but her expression remained composed. “I’ll do my best.”
Mama D nodded. “You’ve got a real gift. I’ve seen you perform on the internet—I wasn’t as lucky as Cade here to get to see you in person.”
Uh-oh. Rosalyn didn’t know about that time he’d come to see her. How did Mama D know? The only person he’d ever told was Elisa…oh. He sighed.
Delia pointed to the computer in front of Mrs. Peters, completely unaware of the gun she’d fired. “Can you be a dear and let me know if you have a certain title in stock?”
“Probably not If You Give a Mouse a Cookie .” Cade looked hopefully at Mrs. Peters.
Nope. Zero reaction.
“I’ll find it, Delia.” Harper eased over to the keyboard, sending Cade a sympathetic smile. Well, that was something. “Which title was it?”
Rosalyn turned curious eyes to Cade as the chatting continued , lowering her voice. “You’ve been to my performances?”
“One.” He couldn’t lie to her. Even though it wasn’t a memory he’d ever hoped to relay.
“Why didn’t you say anything? ” Confusion pinched her brow. “Which show?”
Cade opened his mouth, then closed it. There was no un-mortifying way to admit he couldn’t stop thinking about that night at the Lazy Spoon, couldn’t silence all the what-ifs that had mocked him ever since. So about three months ago, he’d found a ticket to a show in Dallas, drove through the night, bought her flowers, and hung around backstage afterward…only to see her run into the eager arms of another guy. After that, Cade had done what any decent man would do.
Ditched the flowers, bolted for his Audi, and pretended like it never happened.
He met Rosalyn’s eyes, wide and still waiting for an answer. “It was a while ago…” Awkward. And why did the memory burn his cheeks as if it’d been last week instead of months ago? Of course, seeing her perform was what had given him the idea to host the circus in the first place, so maybe it hadn’t been a total flub.
Mrs. Peters slid a black and white flyer across the desk to Cade. “Here’s the list of requirements our booth must have. Harper knows the rest.”
Saved. “Yes, ma’am.” He scooped up the piece of paper and backed away from the counter. “Thank you, Mrs. Peters. And I really do like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie , for the record. If that helps.”
She squinted at him over her glasses. “Well, it doesn’t help as much as prime booth placement at the festival…”
Well played. He nodded. “Yes ma’am.” Then he took a deep breath and looked back at Rosalyn, fighting the rush of anxiety creeping up his chest “I’m going to head to the office—got those calls to make.” So many calls. So many things to do. “You coming back?”
She tilted her head, debating. Not that he wanted her to re-ask the question he’d avoided, but he did enjoy her company while she highlighted spreadsheets. Laughed at his jokes. Made him forget how hectic his life was.
But why did it seem like she was trying to decide something more than afternoon plans?
“Why don’t you hang out here?” Harper scooted a book out of the way to brace both arms on the counter. She smiled at Rosalyn. “My break is soon. We can catch up.”
Rosalyn’s gaze lingered slightly on Cade before she returned Harper’s smile. “That sounds good. Then I probably should get to Madame Paulette’s and test my knee further on the silks.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “That doesn’t throw off your plans, does it?”
Yes . “No, of course not.” After all, hopes were not plans. Cade ignored the disappointment coursing through his chest and found his movie star smile. “You girls have fun.” Same story as always—Rosalyn’s “friends” telling her what to do, what to think.
Who to date.
Who not to date.
Amber’s voice rang in his ears as he backstepped toward the automatic doors. Guys are losers, Rosalyn. Especially Cade Landry. He’s a spoiled brat—only as good as his father’s reputation and money. Had Harper been present for Amber’s declaration that afternoon in study hall too? He couldn’t remember.
Now both women stared at him from the counter, like twin ghosts from the past.
Time to get out of there. “I’ll—uh, see you later, then?” He shot Rosalyn an awkward thumbs-up as he continued walking backward. Oh man. That was lame.
Harper winced. Mrs. Peters shook her head with a tsk , and even Delia turned away as if she couldn’t bear to watch. Rosalyn returned his thumbs-up with an overly dramatic one of her own. “Uh, sure.”
“Great.” He bumped into the door frame as the door whooshed open. “Oops. Okay, bye.”
“Poor kid. He’s got it bad.” Delia’s whisper carried.
He almost tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and caught himself. Was that why? He couldn’t out-walk the thought as the doors shut behind him, blocking the rush of AC and what had to be more whispering.
What was wrong with him? He squared his shoulders as he continued across the library courtyard, pausing a beat to straighten the cuff of his sleeve. He was a Landry. Charming. Likable. Smooth.
In front of everyone but Rosalyn, apparently.
Maybe Mama D had a point.
He swallowed. Maybe Amber did too.