by Tami Lund
“Yep. Although we married into this one.” He paused to bite into his own sandwich. “So what have you accomplished today?”
“I inventoried all the candy that was left over from the previous owner. There was a ton; I can’t believe there is so much overstock. It’s almost like every owner ordered new candy and never threw away the old stuff.”
Brandon chewed thoughtfully. “Candy is so full of preservatives, half that stuff probably isn’t even expired yet. Maybe one of them got a break for ordering so much at once.”
Gabriella nodded. “Maybe. And you’re right; I checked the dates and some of it doesn’t even expire until next year. You said this place hasn’t been open for two years. Even if the last owner ordered some right before he left, that’s a long time.”
“Are you going to keep the stuff that isn’t expired?”
Gabriella wrinkled her nose. “No. Everything I put out will be fresh. I’ve started calling some of the suppliers. I need to establish a line of credit at a local bank, so I have some cash on hand. I closed my account in Dallas and have a check sitting in my purse, but it isn’t enough to buy all the supplies I need to open.”
“My brother manages a local bank. I can take you over there, if you want.”
***
It didn’t escape his own notice that he was being overly helpful to Gabriella. He knew it was partially because he just enjoyed her company. The other part was hoping she’d develop a sudden desire to want to get laid, and he wanted to ensure he was in the vicinity when it happened.
Gabriella glanced down at herself. “Maybe later,” she said.
“Why are you so overly sensitive about how you look? You’re beautiful.”
Gabriella produced a hesitant smile. “Thank you. In my former life, I never, ever wore jeans and sweatshirts. I always wore makeup, my hair was always perfect and my clothes were immaculate. This is my only sweatshirt and only pair of jeans. I need to do laundry tonight.”
“You really were a prisoner, weren’t you?” He watched her eyes darken and her face close down. Still not open to discussing the past.
“Everybody dresses like you are right now, if they aren’t at work. You can relax around here, Sweet Pea. My brother won’t deny you a loan just because you’re wearing a sweatshirt.”
Something he said must have gotten to her, because she straightened and said with determination, “Fine then, let’s go.” She picked up her purse and pulled out Butter’s leash, while Brandon collected their trash and dumped it into the large bag parked in the middle of the floor.
“Do you do this on purpose, so that I will take your trash out for you?” Brandon asked, indicating the full bag in front of him.
“No,” Gabriella said, “But now that you’ve put the idea in my head, I might.”
Brandon chuckled as he took the bag through the storeroom and out to the dumpster. “Have you called to have them dump it yet?” he asked when he returned.
“No.”
“Call today. They probably can’t come till Monday now, and I guarantee it will be full by then, with everyone here helping on Saturday.”
She expected they would head back to the house to retrieve one of their vehicles, but Brandon turned right and began walking north on Main Street. Two blocks later, he stopped in front of the Holly Bank and Trust.
“Probably the bank wouldn’t be thrilled about having a dog inside. I’ll wait out here with her, if you want.”
“That’s awfully nice.”
Brandon grinned. “I can be a lot nicer…” He let the sentence trail off, and just as he intended, he could tell that Gabriella’s mind instantly dove into the gutter. She shook her head and scowled at him.
He put his hands up, palms out. “Hey, I didn’t say anything that could be construed as making a move. I can’t help it you have a dirty mind.”
“Very funny,” Gabriella snapped. She handed him the dog’s leash.
“Ask for Patrick Sarantos. Tell him I sent you.” He grinned again and she turned and walked up the steps toward the double glass doors.
He openly admired the view and a bizarre thought drifted through his head.
I’m glad she didn’t wear jeans in her former life. She looks too damn good in them. Miguel Martinez might not have let her go.
Brandon discovered he was really glad she escaped from her former life, and it wasn’t only because she was probably happier and safer. It was because she was now part of his life.
Twenty minutes later, Gabriella trotted back down the bank steps and bent over to greet her overly ecstatic dog. She straightened and Brandon had an urge to lean over and kiss her. He figured it was because the first two kisses had been so damn…awesome.
“Patrick says hello. He’s working up the paperwork and will call me when it’s ready. He said I should be able to start ordering supplies by tomorrow morning. And I now have a personal account at the Holly Bank and Trust, as well.”
“It’s starting to come together,” Brandon remarked as they walked back to the candy store.
“It is. And no jinxes so far.”
“Ah, but now you’ve ruined it by pointing that out.”
But the rest of the day went smoothly and was jinx-free. Gabriella finished cleaning the bathroom and storeroom, except for the large pile of overstock that still took up half the storeroom. Some of the boxes were so heavy, she decided one of the men in Brandon’s family could move them to the dumpster on Saturday. She also re-dusted and cleaned the entire store and swept and mopped the floors. Now it simply looked like an empty store.
But that was worlds better than what it looked like two days ago, and was good enough to remove the butcher paper. She liked the idea of natural light streaming into the store all day, and it wouldn’t hurt for passers by to see what was going on, as she decorated and stocked the store in the next couple of weeks.
If Brandon’s family was truly as good as he said, and if she could get enough stock delivered next week, she could spend the following week stocking, organizing and decorating the store. That would put her at possibly opening during the first week of October. Maybe she would have a soft opening then, and have a large grand opening, the weekend before Halloween. Start on Friday evening and go through Sunday. She should check with Brandon and Constance and see if there were any special events planned in town, so that she could coincide her grand opening, in order to get the best bang for her buck.
When she finished mopping, she frowned. Aside from a trip to the local warehouse store for supplies such as cash register tape and paper towels and the such, the only thing left that she could tackle without the help of Brandon’s family was the apartment upstairs.
She hadn’t stepped foot up there since she arrived on Tuesday evening. She realized now that she had been avoiding it. Cleaning the apartment meant she was one step closer to moving out of Brandon’s house, and for some inexplicable reason, she wasn’t in much of a hurry to do that.
Which was crazy, she knew, because putting space between them, especially at night and when there were beds involved, was exactly what she ought to do, to keep herself from doing things with him that her body wanted and her mind knew were off limits.
She glanced at the clock on the wall behind the cash register and realized it was after five o’clock. She decided the apartment could wait one more day, so she pushed the mop bucket back to the storage room to dump the dirty water.
Gabriella took a few minutes to freshen up in the bathroom, telling herself she was giving the floor time to dry, even though she knew she wanted to look as good as she could before she walked across the street to see Brandon. Finally, she told herself to knock it off, and she walked through the store and out the front door, holding it open for Butter to trot out, and then locking it behind her.
Tomorrow, she would take all the butcher paper down and begin cleaning the apartment. Her heart began beating faster as she crossed the street, and she thought: I have to hurry up and get that apartment in order and get out
of his house, before I do something stupid like throw myself at him.
Scrawled across the glass door were the words Holly Downtown Development Authority. Gabriella pushed open the door and Butter trotted inside. The dog walked straight back to what Gabriella could tell was Brandon’s office, since he was sitting behind his desk, and the desk was, just as he told her, positioned directly in front of the door.
There was a small lobby area to the right of the door, and an empty reception desk was parked in the corner, facing the street. As Gabriella walked the short distance back to Brandon’s office, she saw a door to her left that proclaimed Holly Chamber of Commerce in the same scrawling black script that was on the outer door.
“You can’t exactly avoid accessibility with this set up,” Gabriella commented as she walked into his office. It was comfortable and worn and for some reason, seemed to suit him.
Brandon shrugged. “I don’t need to avoid accessibility. My job is to be accessible. I’m happy to be more accessible, if you need me to be.”
She arched an eyebrow, trying for a haughty look. He grinned, unabashed.
“I don’t feel like cooking tonight. Let’s go to the Pizza Parlor for dinner. I want beer and pasta, and Aunt Korina makes pasta to rival the Italians.”
Gabriella considered pointing out that he was assuming she wanted to eat dinner with him, but she decided to let it slide. What else would she do, after all? She was new in town, she was living in his home. He probably felt like he needed to entertain her.
Plus, to tell the truth, she wanted to eat dinner with him.
“You’re thinking again. Don’t do that. I don’t feel like fighting with you tonight.”
“You believe we fight every time I think?” She sounded amused.
“I believe you put too much thought into things like what the hell you are doing with me, and that’s the reason we haven’t shared the same bed yet. And I’m not making moves on you, I’m just pointing out a fact.”
“I will concede that your fact is correct. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
“Really? I think this platonic relationship business is a load of shit. I’m going to have to start taking cold showers. I hate cold showers.” He sounded like a child being denied a Popsicle on a hot summer day. Gabriella couldn’t help but smile.
“And that makes you smile why?” He asked irritably.
“Did you have a bad day today?” Gabriella asked, changing the subject and wondering where his bad mood was coming from. Was he really this upset because they hadn’t slept together?
“I did, thanks for asking. Care to hear about it?” His tone dripped sarcasm.
“Yes, I would, actually,” she said, surprising herself because she really did want to hear about his day, bad or not.
“Well, that takes all the wind out of my sails. And here I really was spoiling for a fight.” He stood up and pulled his suit coat off the back of the chair. “Okay, come on, let’s go eat and drink and I’ll tell you all about it.”
They walked side by side to the pizza parlor. Progress was slow because most businesses on Main Street were just closing up shop, and they had to stop frequently to chat with the various owners or managers. By the time they arrived at the Pizza Parlor, Gabriella had a pretty good idea of why Brandon had such a bad day. He held the door open and she walked inside, with Butter on her leash. He then led her over to the same booth they’d occupied two evenings prior. Gabriella noticed the place was much busier than it had been on Tuesday.
When they sat down and Brittney bounced up, Brandon ordered a beer for himself and a glass of merlot for Gabriella. She cocked an eyebrow but didn’t comment.
“So are you having a bad because everyone is upset about flowers?” she asked, after Brittney returned with their drinks. Brandon ordered lasagna and bread sticks and told her one portion would be large enough for them to share and take home for lunch the next day.
“Yes,” he answered and scowled. He took a long pull from his beer and sighed. “I can only think of one other thing that would be more relaxing than this, and I’m pretty sure I’m SOL on that front, so beer it is.”
A heavyset woman wearing black slacks and a quilted jacket adorned with large, brightly colored flowers stopped in front of their table. “Brandon, I missed the last DDA meeting, but I just saw the minutes” –
“Yes Margie, so did everyone else. And I’m off the clock right now, so can we discuss this tomorrow morning?” Brandon asked wearily.
“You won’t be here tomorrow morning. You’re going to Detroit.”
“Margie, can’t you see I’m on a date? Is this really the appropriate time?”
Margie looked startled and focused on Gabriella as if she was seeing her for the first time. “Oh, hello. You’re the new candy store owner, right? We met at the Chamber mixer. I own the consignment shop.”
Gabriella nodded. “Nice to see you again.”
“You’re having another date?” Margie inquired. She sounded perplexed.
Gabriella furrowed her brow and wondered at the woman’s tone.
“Yes. At least I’m trying,” Brandon snapped.
Margie looked appalled. “Fine,” she said stiffly. “I’ll put my concerns in an email and send it to you tomorrow morning. I expect a timely reply.” She turned and walked away.
“Shit. I think we should get that order to go. And we’ll have to go out the backdoor so I can snag a few beers as well.”
“First of all, why did you tell her we’re on a date? We aren’t dating.”
“Relax, Sweet Pea, I was just trying to get rid of her.”
Gabriella was only slightly mollified, but she was more concerned about the flowers. “What happened to all the flowers?”
Brandon rubbed a hand over his face. “The nursery we hired to plant them says there was a blight. Not their fault. But if you drive around to all the other downtown areas within thirty miles or so, their flowers look spectacular. I know, because I’ve already done it.”
Gabriella thought about the two large flowerpots parked in front of her candy store, and the dead weeds jutting out of them. Maybe they weren’t weeds after all. She realized that every storefront on the street had one or two oversized flowerpots next to the front door, and none of them had live flowers. Hers she could understand, because no one had tended to them for two years. The rest didn’t make sense.
“And how is this your fault?”
“It’s not necessarily my fault, but it is my problem. My job is to ensure the main street merchants are happy, and right now, they aren’t. Hence the shitty day.”
“What happened today to start everyone talking about it?”
“We have a DDA meeting the second Tuesday of every month. I had just returned from the meeting when you pulled up in front of the candy store for the first time. My admin typically gets the minutes typed and emailed out to all members of the DDA by the end of the week. She emailed them out shortly after lunch today. And I’ve been fielding phone calls and visits ever since. I’m glad you showed up when you did. If I would have stayed in the office until six, I’d have a line out the door, since that’s when most of the businesses close on Thursdays.”
Brittney returned with their food and Brandon said, “I hate to ask, Britt, but can you box it up for us? We need to get going. And tell Aunt Korina to charge me for a six-pack. We’re going out the back way.”
Brittney said okay and walked away.
“Come on, let’s get out of here before more of them realize we’re here.”
Gabriella obediently stood up, unhooked Butter’s leash from the chair and followed him through the kitchen doors.
“Brandon!” Aunt Korina stood over a giant pot, stirring red sauce. “I don’t mind you going out the back way but I can’t have a dog in my kitchen. The health inspector would shut me down in an instant.”
She gave Gabriella a wide smile. “Good to see you again, Gabriella. And with Brandon, no less.”
Gabriella gave the wo
man a tentative smile and wondered at her comment about being there with Brandon.
“Sorry Aunt Korina. I won’t bring her through this way next time. Thanks for the extra, I need it tonight.”
“I bet. I read the minutes.”
Brandon waved the paper sack Brittney handed him, and he and Gabriella walked out the back door and into the alley. They walked south through the alley until they reached the first cross street, and then they walked west two blocks, and then north two more blocks to Brandon’s house. When they reached the front yard, Gabriella unclipped Butter’s leash and she bound up the steps to the front door.
“Come on, let’s go play house and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist for a little while.”
***
Brandon reheated the lasagna and bread sticks in the microwave, poured Gabriella a glass of wine and took the lasagna, two forks and a bottle of beer into the living room. “Let’s live dangerously and eat on the couch.”
He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his tie and tossed it onto one of the Lazy Boys and unbuttoned another button on his shirt. Gabriella pulled off her sweatshirt and Brandon sucked in a breath as her t-shirt rode up and exposed several inches of flat, tanned abdomen. She draped the sweatshirt across the back of a chair and pulled her shirt back down before sitting down next to him.
“Man, you make things hard on me. And I didn’t mean that to be a literal statement, although at this moment, it is.”
Gabriella gave him a sharp look and used her fork to spear a piece of lasagna. She closed her eyes as she chewed. After she swallowed that piece, she said, “Wow, that is amazing. If you could find me a good Tex Mex restaurant, I might have to consider adjusting my stance on our relationship.”
Was she flirting with him? “You could go to Detroit with me tomorrow. We could have lunch in Mexican Town and stop at a hotel for dessert.” He winked.
“Even if you were serious, I can’t.”
“When it comes to having sex with you, I am always serious.”
She gave him a wry look and explained, “I plan to start working on that apartment tomorrow, so I know what needs to be done before your family descends on me Saturday.”