Chapter 3
Wren
Another day barely breathing.
“Good morning, Miss Wren. I don’t see any of those delicious apple turnovers you know I love so much. Any chance you have more of them hiding in the back?”
Mr. Granley and his sweet tooth. I swear. At his age, I’m surprised he’s not a diabetic. I’d say I’m surprised he still has his teeth, but they aren’t real. He’s got a full set of pearly white dentures which are smiling brightly at me, just like they do every morning.
I don’t know how he manages to wake up so cheery every day.
Most mornings I can barely get myself out of bed.
Then again, he has a lot to be happy about.
His wife, kids, grandkids. Having toured the world and seen the neatest places.
He tells me all about the things he’s done and the places he’s visited, and it always leaves me with a pang of jealousy.
“Sorry, Mr. G, we’re fresh out. But I’ll be baking more this evening and will make sure I make a few extra just for you. When you come by in the morning, they’ll be fresh and warm.”
I was supposed to make the turnovers last night, but I’d barely gotten myself out of bed yesterday and wanted to be home in my pajamas, not having to face the world.
So, the minute the doors were locked and the silence took hold, bringing with it a flood of misery, I left.
Now, I’m behind on my baking for the week and have no choice but to stay and get it done this evening.
“Well, aren’t you a doll. You sure know the way to a man’s heart.
” He holds his hand over his, but he’s greatly mistaken.
I don’t know the way to a man’s heart. Once upon a time, I thought I did, but I was na?ve and stupid.
All I know is how to make some good desserts, which keep the doors of this place open.
“Now, just don’t go telling the missus when she stops by with the ladies this afternoon,” he whispers loudly, his hearing aid obviously not turned up.
“Otherwise, her ornery ass will be feeding me nothing but salads all week.” His eyes drop down to his old gut, and he pats it.
“She thinks I need to lose a few pounds. But at my age, who am I trying to impress? I already got me a ball and chain, and I sure ain’t looking for another one. ”
I shake my head at the sly old bugger. He may talk a big talk, but I’ve seen the way he and Mrs. G are together and it’s hard to watch.
At their age, and after fifty-two years of marriage, they still laugh and hold hands.
Sure, they may nag each other incessantly and may complain any chance they get, but deep down it’s obvious they love each other.
Which is something I’m never going to know.
I shove that thought down, kicking myself for even going there because now my stomach feels raw, and my mood has taken a nosedive.
I force the smile, not wanting to take out my bitterness on the sweet old man.
“I won’t mention a thing.” I zip my fingers across my lips.
“Is there anything else I can get you, Mr. G?”
I’m ready to go lock myself back up in my office and not show my face again for the rest of the day.
Fran was running late on me this morning and I needed to handle the breakfast rush, but she’s here now and the crowd has died down, so I can lose myself in some number crunching until we close up, which always helps drown out my thoughts for a bit.
“I’ll take a couple of those crullers and a cup of coffee.
But if the missus asks what I had for breakfast, you tell her I just had one.
” He winks, and I nod with a forced smile, plating his two donuts.
I place it in front of his usual spot at the counter and then pour him a cup of coffee.
If I don’t take my leave now, he’ll be taking me down memory lane again and sharing another highlight from his life’s reel.
And I just don’t think I’ll be able to handle it today. Not with the way I’m already feeling.
“Hey, Fran!” I call out, and she turns her attention from the table she’s clearing and comes over to me. “You good if I go take care of some bookkeeping?”
Her eyebrow goes up, and I can see the question brewing behind her curious stare.
She’s wondering how much bookkeeping I’ve got, because I’ve been holed up in my office for a few days.
Usually, I’m not this much of a recluse and love to interact with the customers because they’re a welcome distraction from the constant noise in my head.
But these last two days, I haven’t felt much like socializing, which has everything to do with the date that’s coming up on the calendar.
It’s already been a struggle holding the smile for as long as I have this morning, and I need a moment to breathe so I can get through the rest of today.
“Yeah, I can hold down the fort.” She nods. “You coming down with something, or is Aunt Flo in town?”
I’m about to tell her I’m under the weather, not a far cry from the truth, but the bell over the door chimes, and I’m distracted by the man walking in. My stomach twists into a giant nervous knot, now regretting that I didn’t make my escape to the back soon enough.
“Look who came back,” Fran whispers, nudging my arm. “Seems as though Mr. Moneybags can’t get enough of our little Wren here.”
“He has a client in town,” I whisper back.
And I just happen to be the one place open right now where he can get a fresh cup of coffee, which is the only reason he’s here.
Although, from the look he’s giving me, I’m calling my own bluff.
He looks like he’s searching for a whole lot more than coffee.
“It’s really good to see you again, Wren.” Miles tips his head as he steps up to the counter, giving me his charming grin. “I was hoping I’d be graced with your pretty smile today.”
I force my cheeks to lift again, not wanting to be rude. It’s not that he isn’t handsome, and he sure is a gentleman, but I’m not interested in serving him anything other than a cup of coffee and a pastry. “You back in town for a meeting, Miles?”
“Yep, but I had to stop by and see you first. Last time I came through, they told me you were out sick. I would’ve brought you some chicken soup, but I don’t know where you live.”
I wasn’t sick. I haven’t been sick in years. But there’s one day a year that I can’t even fake it. I take a few sleeping pills and pray that I don’t wake up until it’s no longer October 17, the day I met the one who destroyed me.
“I’m sorry I missed you,” I lie. “How’s everything back in the city?”
He’s a big-time corporate investor who drives a Maserati and lives in a fancy high-rise overlooking the busy streets.
(He’s shown me the pictures of his luxurious penthouse to prove just how incredible it is.) We couldn’t be from more opposite worlds even if we tried, considering I drive a rusted-out old pickup truck and live in a trailer out in the middle of the woods with no streetlights shining through my windows, no noise other than the wildlife to keep me company.
If he knew where I lived, I bet he’d be driving that fancy little sports car of his as fast as he could away from here.
“The city is always bustling.” He shrugs. “Always good to get out this way, though. Gives me a breather for a day, and I definitely love when I get to see your smile.”
The charm never stops with him. And not that it isn’t sweet, but it’s almost too much. The way he looks at me makes me nervous. It’s filled with so much expectation. Expectation I will never be able to live up to.
“You know.” He leans over the counter, getting a little too close for comfort and filling my struggling lungs with his potent cologne. “I don’t have to rush back to any meetings this afternoon, which means I can stick around for a while. Any chance you’d grace me with your company for dinner?”
Dammit, why couldn’t I have been in the back room when he showed up?
I hate when things get weird. Unfortunately, my answer is and will always be no.
“Sorry, Miles. I’ve got to get ahead on my baking tonight before Mr. Granley over there starts going into withdrawal.
” I turn my head and give the old man a teasing wink, but I don’t think he heard me.
Thank goodness, or he’d be trying to encourage me to go on the date and forget about baking his apple turnovers.
“No, but really, I’m behind for the week and need to get ready for the weekend rush. ”
It’s not a lie, but it’s definitely not the reason I’m turning him down.
But saying sorry, I’m not attracted to you because you’re too clean cut, have zero tattoos, your hands are too smooth, and you smell too rich for my blood would be flat-out rude.
Besides, he doesn’t want me. I’m empty inside.
There’s nothing but coldness that lives within these veins.
He should go live his life in the big city and stay the fuck away from this tiny two-bit little town.
There’s nothing here for a guy like him.
And I certainly can’t give him what he wants.
What he sees is the facade. What he likes is the lie.
The real me would have him burning rubber to get the hell out of here and thanking the heavens he dodged a bullet.
It’s dark inside my head. My baggage is way too heavy for his thin arms to carry.
He’s better off with some uptown princess who loves to be wined and dined and doesn’t have to force the air through her lungs day in and day out.
“Well, I’ll be back in town in a few weeks. Maybe then your calendar will be open, and you’ll give me a chance.” Great. If I don’t say something, he’s going to keep up the pursuing, and I don’t want to play cat and mouse with him. I just want to be left alone.
“You’re sweet, Miles, but you shouldn’t hold out hope for little ol’ me. I can’t see myself ever leaving this place, and I’m just not a long-distance kind of girl.”