“It’s no big deal. I’m over it.” Main Street was rather crowded for a Friday afternoon, but after scouring the side streets, Derek finally found a place to park near the Walker Beach Bar & Grill. He cut the engine and picked up the phone. “I’m here, though, so I’d better go.”
“Au revoir. We will speak soon.”
He hung up, then ducked through the rain as he ran from his car to the restaurant. A mixture of smells hit his nose as he entered and scanned the room for Ashley. Huge TVs on every wall sat silent today, giving the place a much quieter and calmer feel than usual. The lunch crowd had already passed through, leaving only a handful of booths taken.
Ashley waved from a large wraparound booth in the corner, where she sat nearly at the center of the semicircle.
He walked over and slid in next to her. “Thanks for coming.”
She eyed him and his blue T-shirt, which was heavily dotted with water. “I see you got caught in the storm.” As for her, she didn’t have a hair out of place, and the yellow shirt that perfectly complemented her tan skin was completely dry. It was one of those off-the-shoulder numbers that revealed her sculpted arms.
His mouth went dry, and he snatched the full glass of water in front of him and drank. “Yep.”
Her lips twitched as she signaled to a young male server with a pocked face. “Can you let Janice know we’re both here, please?”
“Absolutely, miss. Be right back.”
Ashley turned to Derek. “I’ve taken the liberty of selecting a few appetizers, main courses, and desserts for us to try. If you don’t care for any of them, we can try again next week.”
He nearly laughed at how formal she sounded, but it was actually kind of cute, which sobered him right up. “I’m sure I’ll like anything from this place.” Plucking the plastic menu from the silver holder in the middle of the table, he nearly moaned at the pictures of street tacos, onion rings, and the restaurant’s infamous grilled calamari sandwich.
“Unfortunately, that’s not the kind of food we’re trying today.” Ashley took the menu from his fingers and put it back. “As you know, Bud and Velma Travis own this place, but their daughter Janice has started doing some catering. Her stuff is amazing, and she happened to be available on your date.”
“Of course. Sorry.”
“No worries.” Her voice relaxed, a touch of professionalism replaced with something warm and soft. “I thought that your guests from France might want something a bit more sophisticated than ribs and burgers.” Ashley pulled a straw from its wrapper.
He rubbed his throat, fingers running over a patch of hair he’d missed in his shave this morning. “Makes total sense.”
“Though if I were choosing food for my own wedding, I’d pick the same food as you.” She plopped the straw into her water, then stiffened, turning wide eyes toward him. “Not because it’s what you would choose. That would just be my own preference regardless. More casual, you know?”
Oh man, her cheeks were growing red. She’d always flushed hard-core and rambled whenever something flustered her. Not that much did. So why was she rattled now?
He could probe—but that was dangerous territory.
Before he had to figure out what to say next, the server returned with three huge platters, which he placed on the table. Now Derek understood why Ashley had selected the largest booth in the place.
“Here we have mini gazpacho soups, tuna tartare cones, and prosciutto-wrapped persimmons. Enjoy.”
“I think there was one more Janice had for us,” Ashley said. “Can you double-check, please?”
“Of course.”
As the server left, Derek stared at the food. He gingerly picked up one of the tuna things, which looked like peppered sugar cones—but instead of ice cream, they held some sort of tomato and green onion mixture. Ugh, and the smell …
Ashley giggled. “It won’t bite, Derek. I’m pretty sure the tuna is dead.”
He looked at her, and the wry smile on her face was enough to coax out one of his own. “This is all very refined and elegant, but I can’t bring myself to try them.”
She picked up one of the little orange things with a sprig of greenery sticking out the top. “For someone who knows wine like the back of his hand, you sure have an underdeveloped palate when it comes to food.” Taking a bite, she closed her eyes and chewed. “Mmm.”
A dab of something white stuck to her lips after she’d polished off the appetizer. He stared at it for a moment before grabbing a napkin and handing it to her. “You left something behind.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She wiped her lips, but missed it completely.
“No, right there.” He indicated the spot on his own face.
Ashley tried again, but it still clung there stubbornly.
“Here.” He leaned closer and ran the pad of his thumb over the corner of her mouth.
Both of them froze at the contact, and man, he couldn’t possibly miss how smooth and full her lips felt.
Dropping his hand, he swiped it across a napkin. Derek cleared his throat. “Got it.”
Thank goodness the server chose that moment to return with a platter of something he did recognize. He turned toward Ashley, who bit her lip as she watched him. “Soft pretzels?”
“I know how much you like them.” She fiddled with her napkin. “Or, you used to, anyway.”
He sensed the hidden meaning in her words. “I still do.”
“Good.” A smile teased the corners of her lips. “I would have found it hard to believe your tastes had changed that much. Not after you used to order them wherever we went.”
That’s right, he had—at the movies, the mall, the festivals in the park.
The fair.
And then the memory struck—the two of them, not too long after he’d returned home several years after college, laughing and sharing a pretzel while the Ferris wheel spun them round and round the night sky. Before that night, she’d only ever been his best friend’s little sister, but somehow, she’d gone and grown up. And she’d been radiant.
That was the night he’d known she was someone he could fall in love with.
Staring at the plate of pretzels, he held back a sigh. So they had a past. It was foolish to pretend it hadn’t happened, that they hadn’t been friends. Was it also foolish to think that maybe they could be friends again?
Derek picked up a pretzel, broke it in two, and handed one half to Ash. “Bon appétit.”
With a full-on grin, Ashley took the offered gift and popped the bite into her mouth.
Chapter 7
Thank goodness for second chances.
Despite Ashley’s appointment mix-up last weekend, today’s festival meeting had gone smoothly so far. “Does anyone have any questions before we break off into our subcommittees?”
Her eyes swept the back section of the Frosted Cake, which Ms. Josephine had graciously reserved for the festival planning committee’s late-afternoon meeting. In addition to the complimentary cookies the proprietor had contributed to the cause, the restaurant’s expansive windows, eclectic beach-themed decor, and racks of homemade jams made it a much more inspired meeting place than City Hall.
Mayor Jim Walsh jumped up from his seat nearby and sauntered toward Ashley. “I know I speak for all of us when I say thank you for your hard work on this, Ms. Baker.”
A murmur bubbled through the crowd of twenty-two volunteers. From his seat next to Madison a few tables over, Evan eyed his dad warily. Old Bud Travis, who sat on Madison’s other side, winked at Ashley and gave an encouraging smile. A few of her Griffin cousins sat in the back, including Spencer, a pastor at the community church at the south end of Main Street, who flashed her a thumbs-up. His mom Elise sat next to him, pen poised above paper as she listened intently to the conversation.
Ashley acknowledged the mayor. “Of course. I’m happy to help.”
“And we know how much you do for our town, believe me.” Mayor Walsh placed a light hand on her shoulder. His voice rang with s
incerity, but if Evan were right, his dad’s only ambition was to get reelected come the fall. He hadn’t even supported Evan’s festival idea at the beginning. Not until he saw how the town had backed it. “If it gets to be too much, though, you just let me know. I’ll be sure to get you the help you need.”
His fingers—and his implication—pressed into her like one-hundred-pound weights. So much for second chances. “Will do.” She turned back toward the crowd. “I’m sorry again for missing last week, everyone. Thanks go to Evan for his assistance filling in the gaps.”
Evan waved it off. “No problem.”
Carlotta Jenkins raised her hand, her red nails a perfect match for her bouffant hair. “I have a question.” The woman’s mouth was perpetually puckered as if she’d just had one too many lemons in her iced tea. “Rumor has it that you might take over Kyle’s business soon. Is that true?”
Ashley bit the inside of her cheek before she lashed out at the woman she and Madison referred to as the Queen of the Walker Beach gossips. She was only asking because Kyle wasn’t in attendance today. He wouldn’t have taken any of her guff. “Um …”
“I also heard that you are being forced to plan Derek Campbell’s wedding to that French girl.” Carlotta’s mouth twisted into a sympathetic frown, but her eyes held a glint—like a shark sensing dribbles of blood in the water. “Poor thing.”
Ashley’s eyes snapped to the back of the room, where Derek’s sister Heather sat. Thankfully, she seemed too engrossed in a quiet conversation with her longtime friend Alex Rosche to have heard Carlotta’s words.
But the whole rest of the room leaned forward with one collective breath.
Madison stood, her chair scraping against the tile. “Does anyone have a question that actually has to do with the festival? No? Fine. Get into your subcommittees, then.”
The growled command got people moving, and Ashley plopped back into her chair, breathing a bit easier. She needed to make her rounds, ensuring the subcommittee chairs had what they needed to move forward until their next meeting. But for this moment, she allowed herself to be still.
Evan slid into the seat across from her. “I’m sorry about my dad. He was out of line.”
“Please don’t worry about it. And he was right. Sometimes it does feel like too much.” Ashley rubbed the corner of her eye. Last night hadn’t provided her much sleep, not after so much time spent in Derek’s presence.
“Ash, we can get you some help, you know. You don’t have to do this all on your own.” Evan massaged the back of his neck.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I just have a lot going on, but I love helping out with the festival.” And who else was going to do it? She was the resident events gal, the one people looked to when they had a need to fill, especially when it came to planning and organizing. Not that others weren’t capable, but everyone else was busy too, and she really liked having something of value to give to her town.
She liked being needed.
The thought unsettled her. She did it for them, not herself. Right?
Of course she did.
Shaking her head, she forced a smile. “And besides, we’ve made a lot of progress. The hardest part is done. Now, the details are up to the subcommittees. I’m just managing them and making sure they stay on track.” That wasn’t the total truth—there was still a ton for Ashley to do. But she didn’t want Evan to worry. He had enough on his own plate.
“If you’re sure.” Evan sniffed the air and groaned. “Oh man, I can smell Josephine’s meatloaf and potatoes. Having meetings here is way too distracting.”
Ashley laughed. “Maybe you can convince Madison to eat dinner here tonight.”
“Don’t I wish. I actually need to leave soon to get an online test done tonight, and she’s got new books in that need to be cataloged and shelved. It’ll be a lonely night for both of us.”
She could so relate. But at least they had each other. Who did Ashley have?
It didn’t matter. She didn’t need a man. Like Aunt Jules, she was content to be independent—and soon, a business owner. Living out her dream.
“I hope the test goes well.” She stood. “I’d better talk to the chairs before they take off.”
Walking around, she spoke with the heads of the sponsorship, events, and marketing and communications committees, answering questions about what she needed from them within the next month. The festival wouldn’t happen until the middle of December, which was still seven months away, but those months would fly by quickly.
She steeled herself for the last conversation, but when she looked for Heather Campbell—the head of the volunteer coordination committee—Derek’s sister was nowhere to be found.
Ashley’s lungs released a breath.
“Here.”
Turning, she found Madison behind her, holding two plates of apple pie à la mode. “What’s that?”
Mad rolled her eyes and set the plates down on the table Heather and Alex had vacated. “What does it look like? Ms. Josephine said she could tell all the way from the kitchen that you needed a pick-me-up.” She slid into a chair, and Ashley joined her. “I think she must have heard the Queen’s comment.”
“That was terrible, wasn’t it?” Ashley stabbed the pie, scraping her fork along the top of the fluffy ice cream. “Most of the time I love living in a small town. But other times …”
“You can’t let the gossips get to you. Isn’t that what you told me when I first came back to town?” Madison took a bite of the pie and moaned. “Oh man, you’ve got to try this.”
“I shouldn’t. I ate like five desserts with Derek yesterday.”
Madison glanced down at her own plate, poking the flaky crust of her pie. “About that. When were you going to tell me that he was engaged? I mean, I heard it from others, but why didn’t I hear it from you?”
Sucking in a breath, Ashley laid a hand against her forehead. “Madison, I’m so sorry. Things have been … but that’s no excuse. I didn’t mean to keep it from you, I promise.”
“I’ve been busy too with the reopening of the library, so I understand.” Madison fiddled with her fork and stared down at her pie, her lips twisting into a frown.
What was wrong with Ashley? Mad was one of her best friends. She should have made time to at least call her sometime in the two weeks since Derek had made a reappearance in her life. It was bad enough she’d been avoiding Shannon’s and Bella’s texts and questions about Derek since their meeting a week ago. But to have forgotten to tell Madison altogether? “I really am sorry.”
“Just tell me now. What’s going on?”
Forget what she’d said before. A sugar-laden pick-me-up was exactly what she needed. Ashley shoveled a bite of pie into her mouth. Then, ensuring her voice was low enough that others in the room wouldn’t overhear, she updated Madison on the entire Derek situation.
“The good thing is that yesterday we finally seemed to get past the awkwardness, which should make things easier. It felt like things were back in friendly territory, you know?” Ashley dragged the last morsel of pie along the plate, soaking it in melted ice cream before scooping it up. She hadn’t tasted a single bite. Considering Ms. Josephine had baked it, that was a pure crime.
“Oh, Ash.” Madison set down her fork and reached across the table, touching Ashley’s arm. “It sounds to me like things between you are anything but friendly.”
“I know he treated me kind of coldly at first, but really. Yesterday was better.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
The restaurant had mostly emptied of committee volunteers, but a few early birds had headed in for dinner. Walker Beach’s sheriff sat at a corner booth deep in discussion with the owner of the only bank in town. Out of the corner of her eye, Ashley spied Bill and Dottie Wildman, an adorable elderly couple who had just celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Bill pulled out a chair for his wife, who pinched his bottom and sat down before he had a chance to swat her hand away.
As
hley averted her eyes and breathed past the tightness in her chest.
“Have you thought about telling him how you feel?”
“Are you crazy?” Oops. She hadn’t meant to say the words so loudly. Ashley glanced around, grateful when no one seemed to be looking their way. She lowered her voice. “He’s engaged. Plus, if I mess this wedding up, I can kiss my chance of owning my own business goodbye.”
“Taking over Kyle’s company isn’t the only way you’ll ever own a business.”
“But it’s the best chance I have anytime soon. Starting a business from scratch takes a lot of time and money, and I don’t have either of those right now.”
“So figure out a way to get some things off your plate.”
Madison acted like it was so easy. “Too many people depend on me. I can’t let them down.”
“If you’re always doing stuff for other people, you won’t have time for your own dreams.”
“That feels selfish.”
“It’s not. You’ll be a lot happier and a lot more capable of giving to others if your own well is full.”
Madison would know. Since she’d taken over as the town’s head librarian, there had been a new light in her eyes. Or maybe that had something to do with Evan.
Probably both.
Much as Ashley loved her friend, this conversation was getting them nowhere. “I’ll think about it, promise.” She glanced at the time on her phone. “I should go.”
“So you’re not going to come clean with Derek about your feelings?”
“He’s engaged, Madison.”
“It’s not like he’s married yet.” Her friend’s eyebrows drew together. “Ugh, you’re right. I’m just so frustrated for you. I mean, you guys had a real shot at love.”
“I don’t know that’s what I’d call a one-sided attraction.”
“Why do you think it was one-sided? I thought he asked you out on a date before he left for France.”
“No, I thought it was a date, but then I realized … well, I was wrong.”
“You sure about that?”
“Very.” Ashley’s brother couldn’t have been clearer about her lack of a chance with his best friend.
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