Valentine's with the Single Dad (The Single Dads of Seattle Book 7)

by Whitley Cox

  Snap, snap!

  “Earth to Lowly,” Doneen said, snapping her fingers in front of Lowenna’s face.

  Lowenna blinked and pushed the corners of her mouth up into a fatally saccharine smile. “Sorry, just mentally going through my closet to figure out what I can wear to the rehearsal dinner.”

  Doneen squinted, and her brows tightened into a quizzical V shape. “If you say so,” she said slowly. “Just make sure you wear something nice. We’re going for classy, not trashy.”

  Right. Because a sister who sleeps with her dying sister’s husband is the definition of classy.

  Lowenna’s fake smile grew even bigger, and she offered an enthusiastic double thumbs-up to emphasize her agreement. “Right. Got it. Classy, not trashy. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Doneen let her harpy gaze slide around the kitchen. It landed on a tray of key lime white chocolate bonbons that Lowenna needed to add to assorted boxes. She wandered over to the adjacent table and without even asking, picked up a chocolate and popped it into her mouth.

  Her eyes widened as she chewed, the first smile of her visit faintly tilting her lips. Then she walked over to the garbage can next to the sink and spat the masticated bonbon into the bin before reaching for a napkin and wiping at her mouth.

  What the fuck?

  “Calories,” she said plainly, clicking her boots back over to stand in front of Lowenna. “Need to make sure I look stellar in my dress. And chocolate is not the way to go about it.” Her eyes drifted down Lowenna and another smile, this time sinister as could be, curled her mouth. “It’s all about self-control and priorities … you know?”

  Lowenna nodded. “Yep. Priorities, got it.” She took a deep breath, tucked that infernal stray lock of her hair behind her ear—not that it would stay there—and then showed Doneen her back. “I need to get to work. I have a baby shower to go to tonight, and I want to finish up on your chocolate feature before I go.”

  “Whose baby? Who do you know that’s pregnant?” Doneen’s tone was as accusatory as it was curious. As if what she really wanted to say was “You have friends that I don’t know? You have friends? You’ve been invited somewhere?”

  Lowenna gritted her teeth. “A friend.”

  “It must be so hard for you,” her sister replied, leaving the rest of it hanging, because she knew Lowenna knew exactly what she was referring to. “Aren’t you just going to be inflicting unnecessary pain on yourself by going and seeing this glowing pregnant woman, knowing you’ll never have that?”

  Lowenna squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten.

  One …

  Don’t punch your sister in the face.

  Two … three … four … five … six.

  “I mean, can’t you just send a gift and save yourself the inevitable heartache?”

  Seven … eight … nine … ten.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes and turned to face her sister, using every ounce of restraint she had to not grab the nearest rolling pin and club her sister over the head with it. Instead, she smiled. “I’ll be fine, Doneen. Really. I appreciate your concern though. Babies are everywhere. I can’t hide from them. The same goes for pregnant women. And just because I can’t carry my own baby doesn’t mean that I couldn’t one day still be a mother.”

  She blew out a long, slow breath from a thin gap between her lips, hoping that steam hadn’t started to seep from her ears.

  Doneen’s eyes turned hard for a brief moment before they narrowed and she tilted her head to the side. “Fair enough, I suppose. I don’t know if I’d want to do that personally. Adopt. But to each their own, I guess. I’m looking forward to carrying Brody’s baby.”

  And there was the red-hot poker directly into Lowenna’s heart.

  “And I’m sure you’ll make beautiful babies,” she said, fighting to get each word out past the lump in her throat, the pain in her chest and the sting of tears in her eyes.

  Her sister was being cruel for no other reason than to hurt Lowenna.

  Why?

  Lowenna glanced above the door at the clock. She had just shy of an hour before she needed to get ready for the baby shower.

  Her sister needed to go.

  Straight to hell.

  “I’ll send you what you need within the week, Doneen,” she said, unable to keep all the bitterness from her tone. “But I really need to get to work. I have a lot to do before we close up shop.”

  Doneen’s face pinched tight, causing her nose to turn up and wrinkle in a way that always made her look like a bit of a shrew. She’d had a rhinoplasty a few years ago, claiming it was for a deviated septum when they all knew it was to eliminate the bump on her nose and narrow it. Only Lowenna had never really cared for the finished product. It was too thin and turned up in a weird way at the front. But unlike her sister, who had no problem telling Lowenna when she couldn’t pull something off—like her pixie cut or bob—she kept her mouth shut about her sister’s botched nose job.

  Her eyes flicked from her sister to the front door. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Like touching base with the DJ or wedding planner or something?”

  Ruling over the demons in the fiery pits of hell?

  Finally, it looked like her sister got the hint, and she nodded. “Yes, I do. I have to go and see the DJ and discuss the music. I need to add to the Do Not Play list. Even if people request it, he is not allowed to play it.”

  Well, now, as much as she wanted her sister to get the fuck out of here, Lowenna was also curious. “Like what songs?” she asked.

  “‘Who Let the Dogs Out?’ ‘Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo,’ ‘The Bad Touch.’ Pretty much anything by the Bloodhound Gang. No rap. Very little hip-hop. We’re going for classy, remember. Dancing is great, but grinding and getting disgusting on the dance floor is not. No ‘Macarena.’ No ‘Chicken Dance.’ Nothing stupid.”

  So lame, boring and stuffy.

  Lowenna simply nodded. “Gotcha.”

  Doneen tucked her purse beneath her arm and tapped her French manicured nails on the stainless-steel table. “All right, well, I’m off. Send me your speech and make sure that mess on the chocolate feature is tidy by the big day.”

  Lowenna smiled like she did when she was dealing with a pain-in-the-ass customer—because at least they were paying her—before she spoke. “I’ll get right on it.” Then she watched her big sister leave her chocolate shop and head down the sidewalk toward her car. Only when she knew Doneen was out of sight and out of earshot did she throw her head back and let out the mother of all screams.

  She needed The Rage Room, and she needed it BAD!

  8

  The clouds had opened up and let loose, emptying everything they had into the downtown core of Seattle until the gutters struggled to keep up and water pooled into ankle-deep puddles in the streets.

  It was days like these that Lowenna wished she hadn’t sold her car to help afford the equipment she needed to start her chocolate shop. Most days she didn’t mind. She lived close enough to work that she walked and got her exercise lugging groceries home from the market in Pike Place. If she needed to get anywhere far, she hired an Uber or rented a car using one of those car-share apps.

  But on days like today, she wished she had a vehicle to hide in for the eight-block drive to The Rage Room, rather than run in her soaked boots through the puddles, hiding beneath the eaves of closed-up shops when she could.

  It was dark out now, but the streetlights and glaring headlights from the ample evening traffic lent enough of a glow to the night that she could see every drop of rain falling in front of her.

  The overhead sign for The Rage Room was just a few yards away. She clutched the gift bag and her purse tighter beneath her arm under her coat and picked up the pace. Not that she could really get any wetter, but she needed to smash things, and she needed to smash them now. After her sister’s impromptu and unwelcome visit, she’d hardly been able to concentrate on what she needed to do, let alone keep her hand steady enough for the
chocolate to adhere properly. In the end, she simply gave up and finished helping Xi with the pistachio macaroons.

  Heaving open the door a couple of moments later, she stepped inside the warm entryway in front of the desk. She shook herself clean of the raindrops from her coat before removing it and hanging it up on one of the coat hooks.

  “Hey, stranger!” Luna, the owner, greeted her, coming out from the back room behind the front desk. “How goes it?”

  Lowenna wiped the damp hair off her face and glanced up at the pink-haired, tattooed beauty who ran the shop. “It’s wet, and I need to smash some shit, that’s how it goes. I’m here for the baby shower. Are they here yet?”

  Luna’s grin made her already stunning face light up even more. “Yeah, they’re in the party room in the back. I think you’re the last to arrive.” She popped out from behind the counter and led Lowenna down the corridor to the party room. “Tough day at the shop?” She craned her neck around to glance at Lowenna, concern in her light blue eyes, while the double hoops in her nostril wiggled when she scrunched her nose.

  Lowenna rolled her eyes. “You could say that.” Then she remembered the small token for her host and reached into her purse. “Here. For your, uh … exemplary service, as well as your discretion.” She handed Luna a small box of mixed bonbons and macaroons. “I appreciate you photocopying that save the date and always having it in a frame for me when I come.”

  Luna’s knowing smile stretched across her face as she stopped in front of an already open door with voices spilling out. “We always want to go above and beyond for our customers. I have files of photos for a lot of people, not just you. And if what you’ve said about those two is even remotely true, they’re getting off easy with you just smashing their photo.”

  Lowenna’s gaze slid to the side and her lips twisted.

  Luna chuckled. “I hold grudges, too. Don’t worry. The party’s in here.”

  Lowenna stepped through the door to find a few women all smiling and laughing, sitting on couches. All of them—except for Violet—held wineglasses.

  “You came!” Violet said from one corner of the couch. “I’d get up to hug you, but I’m a whale and, well, I’m not going to.”

  Lowenna chuckled as she made her way across the room and bent down to hug Violet where she sat. “I wouldn’t dream of making the mama-to-be stand up any more than she has to. You’re not a whale, by the way. Nothing more than a basketball beneath your shirt, I swear. How are you feeling?”

  “Fat, sore and tired,” Violet said bluntly. Lowenna pulled away, still laughing. “It’ll all be over soon.”

  Violet took a sip of what looked and smelled like sparkling apple juice and rolled her eyes.

  “And then the real work begins,” one woman with curly dark hair past her shoulders said with a laugh. She thrust her hand toward Lowenna. “Paige McPherson. Violet’s having my ex-husband’s baby.”

  Lowenna shook the woman’s hand. “Right. Mason filled me in on this wild dynamic. And you’re dating Violet’s brother? Is that right?”

  Paige took a sip of her wine, her light brown eyes dancing with mirth. “Yep. Mitch. Good memory.”

  “And you’re also catering the wedding,” Lowenna went on.

  Paige’s smile shrank. “I know she’s your sister, but I’ve also heard that your relationship isn’t that great. Is she always like this, or is it just the bridezilla mentality?”

  Lowenna sighed at the same time she accepted a glass of wine from one of the other women. “She’s always like this, I’m afraid. I’m sorry if she’s been rude or unkind in any way. She’s not a representation of the rest of our family, I swear. The rest of us are actually quite nice.”

  Paige laughed. “Anytime she pisses me off, I just pull up her invoice, and those zeroes behind the one calm me right down.”

  Laughter flitted around the baby-themed decorated room.

  “And I’m Tori.” Another woman squeezed her way onto the couch and held out her hand. She was gorgeous from top to toe with dark brown hair in a demure ponytail behind her and bright blue eyes. “We’re all so glad you could come.”

  Lowenna shook her hand. “You’re helping Mitch with the photography?”

  Tori nodded. “That’s right.”

  A woman who looked quite similar to Tori but was just a touch shorter and had lighter blue eyes brought over a plate of mini-doughnuts. “I’m Isobel, Tori’s sister, and thankfully, I don’t have to deal with your sister at all. I just get to hear about her from all these unfortunate souls. Doughnut? Paige made them.”

  Lowenna took one and thanked her, glancing around at all the other women in the room who had lasered their eyes in on her—the newcomer. “I do want to apologize for any stress or frustration my sister and/or Brody have caused any of you. She really is the worst, and I am not immune to her cruelty. She was in my shop this afternoon making demands and changes. Wants me to submit my speech for approval beforehand and send her pictures of what I plan to wear to the wedding and the rehearsal dinner so she can approve or veto.”

  Every eye in the room went bigger than the dinner plates they were soon going to smash, and mouths dropped open in shock.

  “You’re fucking kidding,” blurted one woman with long ash-blonde hair and brown eyes. She was sitting closest to the food table and had three mini-doughnuts on her ring finger. “I know Brody, and he’s a tool, but just wow!” She shook her head. “I’m Aurora, by the way, and I work with your asshole of an ex-husband.” She gave a wave before pulling one mini-doughnut off her finger with her teeth.

  “And I’m your sister’s florist and not at all immune to her ridiculous requests either,” said a woman with a bob just a touch longer than Lowenna’s and a sophisticated look about her. “Haven’t met one like her in a long while. Makes me want to tack on a couple hundred bucks to her bill just for the emotional torture.”

  Lowenna winced. “I’m really sorry, guys.”

  Heads shook.

  “Not your fault,” the florist said. “It takes all kinds to make the world go ’round. I am spending a significant amount more at the liquor store these days though.” She chuckled, and her sapphire-blue eyes glimmered bright with amusement. “I’m Zara.”

  Lowenna nodded. “Lowenna, nice to meet you”—her eyes darted to each woman—“to meet all of you.” She frowned and stared down into her wineglass. “I’m going to guess you’ve all heard about me though?”

  She lifted her gaze back up to them.

  Heads bobbed.

  “Sure have,” Tori said. “The guys say they don’t talk at poker night, but they do. And then they come home and talk to us.”

  Aurora and Zara nodded. Violet went “mhmm” and Paige and Isobel said “yup” in unison.

  “We’re sorry for all that your sister and ex-husband have put you through,” Zara said, her eyes filling with that look Lowenna despised—pity. “Especially when you were … ”

  Lowenna quickly shook her head. “It’s okay. Thank you.” She plastered on the biggest smile she could before taking a sip of her wine. “It’s a party. The last thing I want to do is talk about my sister, my ex or cancer. Let’s talk about babies and smashing stuff.” She reached beneath her arm and pulled out a semi-crumpled but perfectly dry gift bag. “Where are we putting the presents?”

  Tori took it from her. “I can put that with others,” she said, standing up and walking over to the gift table.

  Lowenna thanked her. “I also brought chocolate, if anyone is interested?” She dug into her purse, grateful that she hadn’t let her sister’s nasty comment a few months ago sway her into ditching the giant messenger bag she loved dearly and going with a sleek clutch as Doneen had suggested. Her messenger bag just held so much. It was so practical.

  “Wine, cheese and chocolate,” Violet said. “The way to most women’s hearts. And in a few weeks, I’m going to be drinking all the wine again.”

  Lowenna retrieved the box of truffles and bonbons she’d brought with
her and passed it to the guest of honor first. “Well, I’m not a cheesemonger or a vintner, but I am a chocolatier, so hopefully that’s enough to keep me in your good graces.”

  Violet opened up the box, her green eyes filling with hunger at the same time her tongue darted out and slid across her lips. “Absolutely,” she said, grabbing one of the pear, cinnamon and caramel bonbons from the box.

  The mama-to-be popped the treat into her mouth, and Lowenna could practically feel the woman’s taste buds come alive, her face was so animated and joyful.

  It always made Lowenna feel like she was floating when she watched a person eat and enjoy her chocolate or confections.

  They were her passion.

  Her blood, sweat and tears.

  Her babies.

  And each and every day she sent those babies out into the world in the hopes that the world would love them. In the hopes that the world would embrace them and make all her struggles, her hard work and sleepless nights not suffered in vain.

  Thankfully, the world usually did. The world usually loved her babies, loved her chocolates, her creations just as much as she did. And it always made her float.

  Phew.

  “These are incredible,” Violet said, grabbing two more from the box before she passed them to Paige beside her. “You two should collaborate. Might win a Nobel Prize or a Michelin star or James Beard or something.”

  Paige grabbed one of the habanero truffles from the box and popped it into her mouth. Her nostrils flared as the heat hit her. “Wow. That’s some fire.” Nodding, she grabbed a couple more chocolates before letting the box make its round through the other guests. “Yes, we should definitely talk. The business space next to my bistro is for rent. You should move in there. More room, and we could build a door between our shops. Chocolate has never been my forte. Too finicky for my liking.”

  Lowenna grinned. “I like finicky. Yes, it can be frustrating, but when your vision finally comes to life, it’s … ”