I could string him along. He very clearly is annoyed by the idea of me breaking my rule for Carter, and it’s the perfect way to gain an extra point in our game. But I can’t. For some reason, I don’t want another point. “No. I don’t want to go out with him again.”
Ryan’s face softens, and I think I hear him let out a relieved breath. “Good.” He comes closer, and the air ripples between us.
I hold his gaze, lifting my chin. “Good.”
He swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple go up and down. “I saw that you moved your name away from mine on the seating chart,” he says, and I resist the urge to smile. “I moved it back.”
My smile drops even though something in my stomach flutters wildly.
As much as I didn’t want it to, his declaration this morning does change things. Ryan has a hold on me, and I’m scared to let him see it. I’m worried I’ll be tempted to break my rule for him. But maybe I won’t have to. Maybe he’ll leave without saying goodbye after the wedding, and that will be the end of us forever. I’ll go back to my life of casual dating and keeping busy, so I don’t sit still long enough to feel my loneliness. A girl can only hope.
“Okay, I got it!” says Logan, rushing back in the room, slightly out of breath. “I had to wrestle it from Stacy because she wanted me to leave you two alone, but I won.” He angles his phone at us and must click the record button the second Ryan and I smile at each other, because he just groans and lowers the phone. “That was definitely not worth Stacy’s pinches.”
—
Later that night, after I’m tucked into bed and tossing and turning for half an hour, I sit up and grab my phone. Before I have time to think it over, I open up my text chat with Ryan and send him a message that I’m sure I’ll regret in the morning.
June: I was always jealous.
And then I literally toss my phone to the other side of the room and bury myself under the covers as if that’s going to protect me from Ryan Henderson.
Chapter 12 June
How do I put this mildly?
I’d rather jab a pencil in my ear over and over than co-own Darlin’ Donuts with the woman sitting across from me.
“…And the color scheme is all wrong,” Heather (the woman naïvely thinking she is nailing this interview) continues after a solid ten minutes of other insults about our bakery. “I think we would do better to market to the corporate world. Sleek and clean-cut, if you will. It wouldn’t be that difficult to change your colors over to black and gray. We could get rid of this old bar”—she’s referring to the gorgeous antique wooden countertop that was used in a French patisserie in the early 1900s we practically stole from an auction—“and replace it with something metal and clean. IKEA has affordable alternatives.”
Deep breath.
“But…our whole brand is a crossover between Charleston’s old southern-money roots and modern-day trends.”
“Exactly,” she says, making absolutely no sense and giving me a pitying smile. She feels so bad that I don’t see the glaring problems with my bakery, which was featured in Vogue as a must-visit attraction in Charleston. “But I think with a little facelift, we can probably do pretty well for ourselves here.” Oh, honey.
Let this be a lesson for anyone trying to get a job: Do your research before you interview.
“Well, thanks for coming, Heather,” I say, concluding the meeting early. “Don’t forget to grab a Slow as Molasses donut on your way out.”
Stacy hides a snicker behind her hand.
I glare at her. This is all your fault.
The moment the door closes behind Heather, I let out a puff of air and sink back against the counter. “Well, she’s a no go.”
“Really? I thought she was charming.” Stacy’s voice sounds too innocent.
“Did you pick someone terrible on purpose? You’re like a little kid in an inspirational movie, trying to sabotage the sale so I learn my valuable lesson.”
Stacy shakes her head and smiles while popping a donut hole into her mouth. The fact that she’s not denying my accusation is telling. “I should really be worried about fitting into my expensive dress on Saturday, but I can’t bring myself to care. Is that a bad sign?”
Okay, I see. We’re going to change the subject now because I was dead-on with my sabotage remark.
“I think it means that you’re in a really good place and you’re not stressing about the little things. You’re marrying your second best friend in a few days and it shows.”
She smiles softly, and I still find it ridiculously sweet how happy she looks when she thinks about Logan. “Plus even if I outgrow the dress, I think I could wear yoga pants and a stained T-shirt and Logan would still be happy to marry me.”
“He’d probably like it better than the dress. Your butt looks great in yoga pants.”
She laughs. “So I should just return the dress, right?”
I shrug. “It won’t stay on you very long anyway.”
We go back and forth like this for a few minutes, and I don’t let myself give in once to the sadness I feel under our laughter. I’m going to miss her more than anything. She’s my girl. My person. When she’s gone, who will make dirty jokes with me?
Her mind follows the same track as mine, because after a minute, her face softens, and she comes over to cup my face dramatically, making my lips pooch out. It’s silly. But I love that even in the serious moments of life, she still makes me laugh. “We’re not saying goodbye forever. We will talk every day on the phone. Make lots of visits. Everything is going to be fine; I promise.” Why don’t I believe her?
Stacy’s eyes then catch on something over my shoulder, and she makes a hmm noise. “You’re not going to like what I see out that window.”
I follow her gaze over my shoulder, and my heart shoots up into my throat. Crossing the street and heading straight for our shop is Ryan. He’s wearing a pair of cargo joggers with black Nikes and a zip-up hoodie. He has the same baseball hat on from the other day, but it’s sitting backward on his head, and honestly, I’m so attracted to him it hurts.
Suddenly, I remember the text I sent him last night, and I wonder if I can pack my bags and move to Mexico before he finishes crossing the street. No? Fine. I’ll do the next best thing.
I hop up on the counter and slide across to the other side and then race to the front door of the shop just as Ryan is reaching out for the handle. I twist the lock and fling the Open sign around, so now the shop is officially Closed.
I look through the glass up into Ryan’s dark smirking eyes and shrug my shoulders innocently. So sorry, you just missed us!
“Funny,” he says through the glass. “Open up.”
I cup my hand around my ear and squint like I can’t hear him through the glass. I’m a mime inside a box, and I’m just as surprised by these glass walls as he is. I mouth Can’t hear you and then point to the sign again.
It’s childish, I know. But I don’t want him to come in here. This is my special place in life, and I’m proud of it. I’m just a little afraid that if I let Ryan Henderson—world-renowned chef—through my door, my confidence bubble will pop. What’s a donut shop compared to all he’s accomplished?
Ryan puts his hands in his pockets, and his shoulders twitch like he’s making himself comfortable. He’ll stand there all day, apparently. And a second later, when a woman and her two children walk up to the door, he smiles, and his devil horns pop out. I see a vague resemblance to the boy I went to high school with.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. They’re closed,” he says with a sunny smile that doesn’t fit the news he’s delivering.
Her brows furrow, and she looks at the store hours listed on the glass. “Says they’re open until three o’clock.”
“Oh, we are!” I say through the door.
“Not so soundproof anymore, is it?” Ryan says from where he stands beside the woman. I scowl at him before unlocking the door and cracking it open for the woman and her children to come in. Once they are inside, I hurry to shut it before Ryan can weasel his way in. But he anticipates my move and wedges his foot in the crack.
I will break his foot; don’t think I won’t.
He puts his baseball-glove-size hand on the glass and opens the door even though I’m using all my strength to push against it. I’m just a little gnat. He swats me away with a single push.
“You’re being ridiculous,” he says after he makes it inside.
