Chapter 28 #2
I glanced down at my peach sweater, mortified. “I… I’m not sure I’ll—”
“Back off! She’s spoken for,” Felicity cut in.
Ralph frowned. “By who?”
“By whom,” Ida corrected.
“Are you sure?” Astrid frowned. “I would’ve said who. Whom sounds pretentious.”
“I agree,” Erica said. “It’s like hence. Makes you sound highfalutin.”
They were trying to distract Ralph like you would a toddler, but he wasn’t buying it.
“Are you really seeing someone?” he asked me under his breath.
I opened my mouth, but Kailee beat me to it. “She’s seeing Uncle Teddy, okay? Stop harassing her! Can’t you see she’s not interested?”
She grabbed her jacket and bolted, her eyes glossy.
“What just happened?” Ralph stared after her as we all listened to “Jingle Bells” for the tenth time.
“I think she likes you,” Eileen suggested.
“No!” I scrambled. Even if it was true, Kailee didn’t need her feelings broadcast. “She’s just… passionate.”
“Either way, she’s fifteen and way too good for you.” Felicity glared at Ralph, already pulling out her phone to message her daughter.
Ralph raised his hands. “Understood.” Then he turned back to me. “So you’re dating the old man?”
“He’s one year older than you,” Felicity shot back. “And they’re trying to keep a low profile, so…” She cast me a worried look.
“I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone,” I said, heart in my throat.
Ralph leaned back like a cat with a gallon of cream. “You want me to keep a secret? In Hideaway Harbor?”
“Only for a little while. Till Christmas.”
“And what’s in it for me?”
“Shush, you big baby!” Erica snapped. “You’ll do it because you’re a decent person.”
Ralph threw his arms wide, nearly tipping his chair. “Relax! I’ll keep your secret. Just looking for a sweetener. Drinks after Tree Lighting?” He threw me another hopeful look. “If I’m seen with a pretty girl, my stock will go up. I’ll leave after one drink, you watch me go… Look sad.”
“You really think that’ll help you with the ladies?” Felicity gawked.
“Works for Jackson.”
Red blotches rose on Felicity’s cheeks. “So does throwing money around.”
“Oh, Ralph,” Astrid sighed. “The real problem is this air of desperation. You need to cleanse your aura. I have just the thing. Come by tomorrow—”
“I’m not trying another tea. The last one gave me the trots, and my tennis serve didn’t improve at all!”
Astrid pouted. “I told you, it improves your focus. You still need to practice.”
“And speaking of practice.” Ida gave him a stern look, handing him the hook he’d already dropped. “Let’s get started.”
For the next half hour, Ida taught Ralph his first slipknot. We chatted about the week’s reading, ate cookies, and drank tea while Ralph proudly produced a loopy chain.
“There,” he announced, wiping his forehead. “Always good to get the MVP out quickly. Fail early, pivot fast. I’ve actually had another idea…” He pocketed the rest of the cookies, tipped his chin at us, and strutted out.
“And… that’s Ralph,” Felicity summed up as the door closed.
“What’s an MVP?” Ida asked.
“Minimum viable product,” Lola explained, holding up his sad chain of yarn. “And this ain’t it.”
I laughed with the others until realization hit. I couldn’t let Ralph leave. Not before I made sure he wouldn’t spill our secret.
I grabbed my coat and rushed outside. “Hey! Can we talk?”
He was scraping frost from the window of his vintage Dodge with his ID card.
“She’s not a bar leaner,” he said reproachfully as I rested against the car.
I straightened. “Sorry.”
“But I’ll take you to a bar you can lean on all you like.” He winked.
“Nice segue.” I mustered a smile.
“You think I’m a joke?” His face fell.
“No.” I fished a credit card from my pocket and joined him in scraping. “How did it freeze like this? You were here less than an hour.”
“I ran out of gas two days ago and had to leave it.” He nudged a gas canister by his foot.
Ah. That made more sense.
“You know everyone’s jealous of my hair.” He ran his fingers through his curls. “Guys are getting perms left and right. I have the real deal. I’m thinking of getting a mohawk. Maybe a mullet. Some speed stripes. The mayor won’t let me till after the lobster gig, but then…”
He looked up, gauging my reaction. Did he really think a mullet was the difference between me wanting to date him or not?
“You’re lucky,” I said. “Perms are expensive.”
His grin returned. “Right? Mine’s like money in the bank. Who wouldn’t back this investment?” He gestured to his tall, lanky form, dressed in an oversized puffer jacket and baggy jeans.
I wasn’t sure Ralph understood much about business or how banks worked, but I appreciated his entrepreneurial spirit.
“You’re a catch.” I smiled. “Just like lobster.”
He sighed. “The problem with small towns is that you’re not allowed to reinvent yourself. Everyone remembers you from the day you were born. Every mistake. Every awkward phase. They typecast you before you even start. I need freedom! We only have one life.”
“Sure. I get that.” I met his gaze. “Look, if you think it’ll help, I’ll go out for one drink. But you have to promise you won’t tell anyone about Fredrik and me. No one. Not your mom, not your sister, not another date—”
“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands. “The Shore Thing, next Saturday after Tree Lighting?”
“I’ll be there.” He pocketed his ID card, and we shook hands.
“Wear something sexy.”
“Nope.”
“Fine.”
He slid into his car and drove away, leaving me standing in the cold, my heart racing. What had I just agreed to?