42. Promises, Promises
42
PROMISES, PROMISES
Ford
After cooking class, Max and I stopped by Hailey’s house. The kitchen was an empty shell. All the cabinets and appliances were gone. There was a big opening in the rear wall of the house that led to the addition, and the kitchen’s new hardwood flooring was about halfway complete.
We found Hailey in the makeshift kitchen she’d set up in the dining room, and Emma sat at the dining room table,
Max set a white box on the buffet.
“I have good news,” I said. “Max drafted the press release about Ghost . He just sent it out.”
“Yes!” Hailey cried as she raised her arms in victory. “That means you’ll be living in Sewickley again.”
Emma ran over from the table and threw her arms around me. “You’re staying! Awesome!”
I hugged her back. “That’s one of the best parts. I’ll get to see you all the time.”
Emma pulled free of my arms, her nose twitching like a bloodhound. She looked pointedly at the white box Max had brought in. “Do I smell chocolate?”
“Good nose.” Max grinned as he opened the lid, revealing our Death by Chocolate cake.
Emma’s eyes widened. “Is that for us?”
Max slapped me on the back. “Ford and I made it. We think it’s great, but we want your unbiased opinion since you’re both chocolate cake experts.”
Hailey cocked an eyebrow, clearly doubting our skills, but she grabbed two foam plates from a stack on her buffet table, gave a piece to Emma, and took one for herself.
“How long until your kitchen is done?” I asked Hailey.
“Fingers crossed we’ll only have to live this way for another couple of weeks,” she said. “I hate eating off paper plates, but I won’t have a sink or dishwasher for a while yet.”
I watched as Hailey took a bite and closed her eyes. A moment later she took another bite and then started nodding. “This is impressive. You two have come a long way with that class. I couldn’t have done better myself.”
“High praise,” I said. “That means a lot, coming from you.”
“How are things going with Mara?” Hailey asked. “I hope you’re taking her some of this. It’ll impress the heck out of her.”
I avoided Hailey’s gaze by watching Emma devouring her piece of the cake. “That’s the plan.”
When I glanced back at Hailey, I found her grinning at me as though she’d caught me doing something wrong. I’d forgotten what an annoying big sister she could be.
“You like her,” she said in a singsong voice. “I can tell.”
Emma groaned with happiness as she licked her plate. “This is delicious.”
Hailey’s playful demeanor disappeared as she shot Emma a warning look. “Use your manners, Em!”
Emma looked up, surprised. “But they’re my uncles. We’re family.”
“Even more reason to behave properly. First of all, licking a plate is gross, and second, you should treat your family best of all. Certainly, better than strangers.”
“But my family will love me even if I lick my plate,” Emma said, and then licked it again.
“Stop that,” Hailey said. “You still shouldn’t treat them with disrespect. No one wants to see you licking a dirty plate with your tongue. That’s just nasty.”
Max and I exchanged glances. “Should I tell her you shot me with a squirt gun tonight?” Max asked in a stage whisper.
“Go ahead,” I whispered back, “but then I’ll have to tell her about that fake milk you gave me that was made from cornstarch. She won’t approve.”
Max gave a heavy sigh. “In that case, we should probably keep it to ourselves. We’d only undermine her argument about respecting family.”
Hailey held up her hands to silence us. “Nothing more from you two. I know how bad you can get.” She swept up the empty foam plates and tossed them in the trash can.
“Guilty as charged,” I said, grinning. “But we still managed to make an amazing cake together.”
“I guess that bodes well for you two making a movie together. Fingers crossed,” Hailey said.
***
The next afternoon, I packed lunch in a picnic basket along with my secret weapon—the Death by Chocolate cake—my stomach roiling with tension. Offering cake was just an excuse to see her. If I couldn’t fix this—if she couldn’t forgive me—what else could I do?
I closed up the lunch basket, my mind circling back to the conversation we were about to have. What if this didn’t work? What if I’d already screwed things up beyond repair? I couldn’t lose her, not when I’d finally found someone who made me feel like this. But what my peace offering wasn’t enough to fix it?
As I pushed open the door of Ghost of a Chance, I could only hope my bribe—I mean, peace offering—would help smooth things over with Mara.
The scent of newly printed comic books that hit me when I walked in the door seemed stronger than usual today. The store was empty, which worried me. Mara sat on a stool behind the counter as her fingers flew over her laptop’s keyboard.
“I like the new layout in here,” I said as I set the basket next to her.
She glanced up in surprise. “Thanks. I guess I didn’t hear the door chime. I’ve been so busy today that I’ve barely had time to work on this coding gig.”
The band of tension across my chest let go. “Having lots of customers is a good problem,” I said as I unpacked the basket.
“Things have been crazy-busy all day,” she told me. “I’m glad I got the shelves reorganized. This works better.”
I brought up a website on my phone showing a story about Ghost and handed it to Mara so she could read it.
Her eyes went wide. “You made the announcement? It’s official?”
“Max sent out the press releases last night.”
She heaved a sigh as she handed my phone back to me. “That’s a relief. I hated not being able to tell anyone.” She glanced down at the Reuben I’d set on her plate. “Oh, my god, I’m so hungry. That smells amazing. You have perfect timing.”
When I set the slice of cake next to her sandwich, her eyes lit up.
“That piece is all mine, right?” she teased. “I don’t have to share?”
I raised my hands and stepped away from it. “I wouldn’t stand between you and Death by Chocolate cake.”
“Sounds sinfully delicious.”
“It is. Just so you know, the cake is a bribe. I’m trying to get back into your good graces.”
“I noticed. Chocolate cake happens to be my kryptonite.” She glanced at her watch and raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I can’t believe it’s already two o’clock. I’m amazed we’re alone. I’ve had nonstop customers all day. Lots of people asked about Chris Pitt. I had to take Zephyr upstairs because he was overexcited from all the attention he was getting.” She glanced at the front door. “We probably won’t have much time together. I really need to talk to you.”
“That’s why I’m here.” I took a steadying breath.
“All right, then.” She licked her lips. “Over the past couple of days, I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching, and I’ve come to realize I have a lot of deep-seated trust issues.” She stared down at her Reuben for a moment, but then met my gaze. “I want to trust you, but you never should have told anyone my business was struggling. That was private. I didn’t tell anyone about your plans for Ghost , and I expected you not to tell people about my problems with my store. I need to be able to confide in you.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry. My only defense is that I was trying to help, but the reason doesn’t matter. I screwed up. I’d have been upset if the situation were reversed.”
She looked directly into my eyes. “I have to be in charge of my own life. I’m the one who has to deal with the consequences, so I have to be the one making the decisions.”
I got it. More than she realized. I was the same way—on set, every detail was my responsibility. The camera angles, the lighting, even the script revisions. I had to be in control because, in my world, control meant things went right. Without it, the whole project could fall apart. That’s what this was for her: her life, her store, her brother’s legacy. And here I was, making decisions about a script that would impact all of it.
“I get it,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t want anyone making decisions about my life either. The question is, can you forgive me?”
She gave me a mock scowl. “Well, you’re here, in my store, groveling. It’s hard to stay angry with you.”
“I am definitely not groveling.”
“You made me Death By Chocolate cake,” she pointed out.
“That isn’t groveling. That’s a bribe.”
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.” She grinned, her eyes sparkling.
“Did it work? Am I forgiven?”
Her smile dimmed a little as she considered her reply. “Forgiven? Yes,” she said. “I’m still feeling defensive, though. It’s something I need to work through. I’m not only reacting to what you did, but to what other people have done in the past. It’s all rolled together into one squishy, irrational ball of angst. I realize it isn’t fair to you,” she shrugged, “but emotions aren’t fair. They just are. Give me time. I’ll work through this.”
“Can we work through it together?”
She put a bite of cake into her mouth and then groaned with pleasure, giving a little wiggle that made me suddenly very aware of how much I wanted her. Missed her. Needed her.
“Will you promise to make more of this cake?” she asked.
“If you wiggle like that, I’ll make you a chocolate cake every single day.”
“If you make it for me every day, there will be a lot more of me to wiggle.” She grinned, popped another bite of cake in her mouth, and gave another wiggle. “Deal. I’m defenseless against this cake.”
“Deal.”
I pulled the updated version of the script from the basket and handed it to her. “I need you to read through this and give me your feedback regarding changes to one of the characters. If it’s okay with you, I’ll come over tonight so we can talk.”
She tensed. “Changes? I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I thought you might not. Just read it. There are good reasons for the changes, but you need to read through the entire script first so we can discuss them.”
The door chimed as someone walked in.
Mara hesitated. “Eight o’clock,” she finally said, and then greeted her customer.