CHAPTER ELEVEN
“A re you sure I don’t need to do some HR paperwork or something?” Whitney asked, tucking her purse under the counter. She’d worn the only other dress she’d packed, a blue shift that flattered her pale skin tone and ample hips. She wasn’t sure how she’d managed, but she wanted to find a few more pieces to wear through the Fourth of July celebrations. Shopping outside her new employer’s store seemed wrong, but Whitney didn’t see anything that would fit her—physically or age wise.
Kim snorted, adjusting her glasses. “Honey, we’ll handle all that later. I’m more worried about keeping people moving through the store.”
Whitney nodded, checking the time on her watch. “What time do you open?”
“ We ,” Kim corrected, “open at ten. I thought I’d walk you through the opening procedures so you’re all set for tomorrow. I have a key for you and everything.”
Used to having probationary periods at her other jobs, Whitney was incredulous. “You’re giving me a key to your shop after day one? Don’t you want to vet me or something?”
“Enough with the concerns, honey. Daisy has vetted you from here to Atlanta and back. Plus, as you’re about to discover, there isn’t much to steal around here.” She rested her hands on her hips and sighed. “Business isn’t bad, but sure as shoot ain’t good. I need a fresh eye to help me shift things around, you know?”
Whitney saluted, feeling her pulse slow. Kim and Daisy trusted her to do a good job, and that’s exactly what she planned to do. “You got it. I’m ready to learn.”
An hour later, the store was open, Whitney had notes on how to use the register, and a few women browsed through a display of blouses. The women were closer in age to Whitney than Kim, and they ended up leaving the store empty-handed.
Kim emerged from the back with a fresh pitcher of lemonade. “See, that right there is what I’m talking about. Neither of those ladies bought a thing, and they clearly had the money.” She set up the lemonade station by the door and huffed. “I don’t get it.”
Whitney took the proffered glass and sipped, thinking to herself for a moment. “Can you show me your ordering site? Where you get your inventory?”
Kim didn’t hesitate. “Sure, follow me.” The pair walked back to the counter, their footfalls echoing in the empty store. Kim clicked away on the ancient laptop, pulling up a site Whitney had used before at other jobs in Savannah.
“May I?” Whitney asked, gesturing to the mouse.
“Honey, as long as you don’t look up naked people on that thing, you can do whatever you’d like.” Lowering her voice, she suggested, “But if you find any naked pictures of Daniel Craig, I wouldn’t mind a look.” She giggled and went to work tidying up the fitting rooms.
Whitney leaned against the counter and scrolled through countless pages of dresses and accessories. The vendor promised overnight delivery on rush orders, and the return policy seemed standard. In between customers, she made a cart of merchandise for both younger clients and those with a little more meat on their bones.
“Lunchtime,” Kim announced. “I usually shut the shop down for thirty minutes at noon. Care to pop across the street for some barbecue? I’m as hungry as sin.”
Whitney covered her stomach, which rumbled to life at the mention of barbecue. “Yes, please.”
Kim flipped the Closed sign and held the door for Whitney. “C’mon, honey, no time like the present.”
The older woman ushered Whitney across the street to a food truck that was double parked in front of the library. The heavenly smells of molasses, pork, and mustard tickled her nose as she joined the growing line. A few locals she recognized from her day on the town with Daisy waved, and she beamed at their friendliness.
“I’m a fan of the pork platter, because I don’t have to pick a side.” Kim chuckled, gesturing to the menu.
“You don’t get a side?” Whitney frowned, eager to eat whatever smelled so dang good.
“Honey, no. You get all the sides with the platter. Cornbread, greens, and baked beans.”
Whitney pretended to wipe drool from her chin, although it wasn’t far from the truth. “Um, that sounds delightful. I’ll join you.”
Kim marched up to the front of the line and ordered their lunches, shaking off Whitney’s insistence on paying. “You’re my guest today, honey.”
“I’m your employee,” Whitney countered. “You should let me pay.”
“You can pay tomorrow,” Kim insisted, but Whitney wasn’t sure she trusted her.
After their meals were ready, they found a picnic table in the shade beside the library. A few other diners had perched nearby, and the general atmosphere was jovial, if not pork-scented.
“This is delicious,” Whitney moaned as she took a bite of the pork. The tender meat was smoky and savory with a sweet kick from the BBQ sauce.
“You can’t go wrong with Jefferson’s. They know barbecue in Pinegrove.”
Whitney wiped her hands with a wad of napkins and nodded. “No argument here.”
Lost in the sounds of chatter and her own chewing, Whitney didn’t notice a familiar face milling through the maze of picnic tables. “I thought I’d find you ladies out here.” Daisy leaned down to squeeze both women on the shoulder before sliding her own tray onto the table.
“Have to show the new girl the culinary ropes of Pinegrove,” Kim said, draining the last of her Coke.
“Consider me schooled,” Whitney replied, trailing her cornbread through a puddle of sauce.
“How’s the first day going?” Daisy asked, stabbing a slab of brisket with a plastic fork.
“Good,” Kim and Whitney said in unison.
Kim hitched a thumb at her employee. “She’s a quick learner.”
Whitney shrugged. “You’re a good trainer.”
Daisy swiped a splotch of sauce from her cheek and beamed. “I knew you coming to town was the answer to a lot of prayers, Whitney.”
Whitney was flustered, nearly dropping her fork. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
Kim nodded. “I do. I was telling my nephew the other day, Buster, how stuck I was feeling at Kim’s Creations.” She took a bite of her lunch and spoke with her mouthful. “Then Daisy brings you into my life, and poof.” Her hands flexed like fireworks. “I saw you looking at the vendor site. You have an idea or two, don’t you?”
Daisy leaned closer, as if Whitney was about to share state secrets. “Oh, I don’t know.” Whitney cleared her throat, afraid she’d overstep and ruin the harmony of the moment. It was Kim’s shop, and she had no right to come in and make sweeping suggestions—especially on day one. Although Kim’s enthusiasm was infectious.
“Spill it, honey. I’m not paying you to waste time,” Kim said, her mouth tipped up in a smirk, BBQ sauce covering her lipstick.
Daisy chuckled. “Kim’s a real hard ass. She’ll fire you if you don’t start talking.”
“Well”—Whitney exhaled, hoping she wasn’t about to offend these sweet women—“I was looking at the inventory.”
“And you realized it’s clothes for old bitties?” Kim asked while Daisy choked on her greens.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I happen to frequent your shop weekly, and I’m not an old bitty.”
Whitney relaxed at the ease between these two friends. They reminded her of Winnie and her, and she missed her sister a little more in that moment. Although their reaction bolstered her to soldier on with her plan.
“Well, sort of? I think you want to keep the key items your regulars like, such as jewelry and some of the summer outfits. But what about bringing in some new things for a slightly younger crowd? You don’t want to spread yourself too thin and try to please teenagers, but what about something for young professionals who are visiting during the festival?”
Daisy leaned back and grinned; Kim leaned forward and blinked. “Keep going,” she urged.
“Bring in some sun dresses and sandals, something a woman could wear to the fireworks or out to dance at the barn. Offer something special they won’t find in the city, but keep the price right that they don’t feel guilty splurging. Lastly, I would expand your size offerings beyond a 12. Shoppers come in all shapes these days, and you don’t want anyone feeling left out.”
“Genius,” Daisy said, slowly clapping like she was at a golf tournament.
“You have some options pulled up?” Kim’s eyebrow was raised, her interest piqued.
Whitney’s cheeks flushed. “I, um, started a cart. With priority shipping, we can have new inventory here in less than forty-eight hours.”
Kim tossed her napkin onto her tray and stood. “Let’s roll, honey. It’s time to get back to work.”
The three of them collected their trash and crossed the street to the boutique.
Daisy hovered at the doorway. “I think I’ll leave you two to it. Whitney, enjoy the rest of your first day.”
“Thanks, Daisy. Will I see you for dinner?” Whitney liked the notion of coming home to someone, especially Daisy. Yes, she wanted to see Trevor again, but she didn’t want to get too far ahead of herself. Every interaction they shared was like eating a potato chip; it was getting harder to stop with just one.
Daisy winked. “Don’t you worry about dinner, sugar. Bye!”
And with that, Daisy was gone, and Kim and Whitney ordered thousands of dollars of merchandise. Lost in the task at hand, Whitney didn’t have time to ponder Daisy’s parting words.
*
“W anna grab some beers and nachos? It’s trivia night at The Pecan Pit, and that always brings out the smart girls,” Javi suggested, waggling his eyebrows.
Trevor rolled his eyes and tossed a balled-up paper at his head. “If they’re smart girls, they’ll stay the hell away from you, Javi.”
Javi splayed a hand over his chest and threw his head back in horror. “Ouch, man. You wound me.”
Trevor logged out of his computer, pushed in his chair, and was careful to use the other exit to avoid Hastings. “Have fun hitting on the brainiacs of Pinegrove, but I’m heading out.”
Javi jogged to catch up to Trevor in the parking lot. “Do your plans this evening have anything to do with a certain brunette whose name rhymes with Britney?”
Unlocking his car, Trevor threw his messenger bag on the back seat and sighed. “I cannot confirm nor deny.”
“You gotta give me something, man. She’s been staying with Daisy for a week now. I’m not the sharpest crayon in the box, but I know you two are into each other.” Spreading his arms wide, he added, “Half of Pinegrove knows it.”
Trevor’s neck heated with embarrassment, but not for himself. He didn’t want Whitney to feel like a spectacle. He wanted her to belong here, feel like she could put down roots ... feel like she could put down roots with him . Last night at The Pecan Pit felt like the start of something.
“I’m going to drive the long way home past Kim’s shop, and if she’s free for dinner, I thought I’d take her out.”
Javi whooped and clapped like he’d bought a winning lotto ticket. “Hell yes! It’s about damn time.”
Trevor scrunched up his nose. “I think a week is really fast for me. It took me nearly a year to make a move on Virginia.”
“And we both know how well that turned out,” Javi said with a sigh. “Have fun tonight. Don’t overthink this.”
“Sure, easy,” Trevor deadpanned, earning a playful gut punch from Javi.
“You two obviously get along, so go with the flow and remember to take her back to your place for funny business. Ms. Daisy seems cool, but bringing a girl back to Mom’s place really kills the mood.”
Now it was Trevor’s turn to not-so-playfully punch Javi in the ribs. “I’m sorry.” He huffed. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Trevor and you’re Javier. I haven’t slept with a girl on the first date since that one time at the academy.”
Javi rubbed his side and groaned. “Okay, that was a little much, man. Have fun.” He shuffled back to his car, opened the door, and promptly flipped off Trevor.
Trevor laughed the whole way to Main Street, despite his sweaty palms and racing heart. He was going to do this, properly ask out Whitney. After everything that happened with Virginia, he was tired of playing games with women. And judging from what Whitney told him on their walk with Gus, she was as well. So, he’d be a grown-ass man and march up and ask her to dinner.
Luckily, he arrived right as the shops on Main Street were closing. He snagged a parking spot as he saw Kim approach the front door to flip the Closed sign. He waved and pointed to the door, mouthing Can I? She nodded and held it open for him.
“Good evening, Mr. Mays. How’s the station treating you?” She rested a hand on his arm as he strode inside.
“Cannot complain, Miss Kim. How are you doing?”
Kim patted his arm and lowered her voice. “A whole lick better since Whitney joined me. I didn’t comprehend how much I wasn’t getting done until today. Are you taking our girl out for supper tonight?”
Trevor held up his hand, where all his fingers were crossed. “That’s the plan, ma’am.”
Kim laughed, the sound alerting Whitney they were not alone.
“Oh, hi.” Whitney emerged from one of the fitting rooms with an armful of clothes. Her hair was different today, spun up into some type of knotted braid, allowing her rosy cheeks to pop more than usual. She was in a blue floral dress that hugged her delicious curves and hung to her knees. Despite it being June, her porcelain skin was barely touched by the sun.
Trevor’s heart lurched up his throat. Suddenly he wasn’t feeling very brave about asking her out properly. “Erm, hello.” He uncrossed his fingers and waved gracelessly as she joined them at the counter.
Kim scurried over and took the bundle and shooed Whitney away. “You’ve done more than enough today. Why don’t you kids go out and have fun?”
Whitney looked to Trevor. “Are we going out?” Her tone was playful, and his shoulders drooped a little.
“Yes, darlin’. That is, if you’re free.”
Whitney opened her mouth to reply, but Kim was too fast. “She’s free.”
Turning to face the older woman, Whitney laughed. “I am? Weren’t you going to show me how to lock up and get the money ready for tomorrow?”
Kim tapped her chin a moment, as if in deep concentration. “I don’t recall saying that, but then again, I’m nearly a hundred years old.” She stuck out her tongue and ushered the pair out onto the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow for opening at ten. Good night, kids.” And with that, she pulled the door shut, flipped the deadbolt, and turned off the lights.
Trevor took Whitney’s hand, slowly rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. The motion made her shiver, and he understood the feeling. “Have dinner with me? We can celebrate your first day, and I can enjoy a meal in town without Javi trying to pick someone up or Buster lamenting his own menu.”
“You mean, Javi’s done flirting with me?” she teased, turning her palm so she held his hand.
“Ha! A man can only hope. Have I mentioned recently how much I appreciate you turning him down?”
“No, but we have all night.” She flashed him a grin, and Trevor stumbled on weak knees to his car. He liked the notion of having all night with Whitney, regardless of where they were going or what they’d do. Just being with her lightened him, made him feel like he was more than a failed fireman still grieving his father.
Holding the door open, Whitney slid into the passenger’s seat. Her skirt rode up slightly, showing a splattering of freckles on her knees. Trevor caught himself staring when she looked up with confusion. “Is everything okay?”
“Huh?” Trevor ripped his gaze back up to her lovely face and shook his head. “Oh, yeah.” He laughed at himself and closed the door. Jogging around the front, he was pleased she was still smiling when he got behind the wheel.
“Where are we headed?” Whitney asked, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. She’d shifted in her seat so she faced him, and Trevor wanted to pull her over the console and kiss her senseless.
Instead, he cleared his throat, and asked, “You like low country boils?”
Whitney snorted, a very unladylike sound that endeared her to him even more. “I’m sorry, but I’m from Georgia. I’m offended you had to ask.” She pivoted and buckled her seatbelt. “Let’s role, Lieutenant.”
Trevor had a goofy, wistful expression on his face for the entire drive to Cajun Carl’s. The place opened nearly fifty years ago by Carl’s father after moving from Louisiana. The food was delicious, the price was right, and the ambiance was perfect for this evening.
Pulling his car into the lot, he parked under a cluster of trees with fairy lights in the branches. That would look even better on their way out, and Trevor was thinking ahead. “Let me get your door,” he said before getting out of the car and nearly hurdling over the hood ala The Dukes of Hazzard .
Whitney held out her hand as he helped her to her feet. She didn’t let go when they started walking, and Trevor could not have been more relieved. After months of wondering if he’d even date again, he was out with the woman of his dreams. Now he needed not to muck it up.