by Ivy Layne
How could she stand here and look me in the eye knowing we were both lying to Grams? Knowing she and my dad had effectively stolen from me, stolen from Grams?
If I managed to pin her down she'd just wiggle her way out, telling me to talk to my dad, that it wasn't what I thought, that nothing was what it looked like, and everything was okay.
I wasn't going to confront her about the money, not with Grams right here, but I couldn't ignore her comments about Royal.
“Mom, I get why you think you have a reason not to like the Sawyer family. That's your business. But Royal is a good man, and I'm not going to listen to you say otherwise. If he breaks my heart, feel free to call him all the names you want. Until then, I don't want to hear it.”
I squirmed under the pitying look in her eye. Her phone beeped just as she started to say something else. Snapping her mouth shut, she looked down at the screen and everything about her changed. Her eyes brightened and her smile stretched wide. It was as if a sunbeam cut right through the ceiling of Sweetheart Bakery and illuminated my mother.
Shit.
She stood there, her face wreathed in smiles, eyes glowing, and all I felt was dread. I knew what put that look on my mother's face. I wasn't ready.
Deciding to take a page from her book, I shoved my misgivings away and looked at Grams. “What did you want to talk about when you came in? I was distracted, and I wasn't really paying attention.”
Grams shot a concerned look at my mother, then shook it off. “I wanted to know if you're ready to talk about the next lunchtime pop-up. I can't believe how fast we sold out of those grilled cheeses. I was thinking it would be fun to do chili with bread bowls. Though that's really more of a winter thing. Or Paninis! We could have two or three options and put the press behind the counter. What do you think?”
My mother slipped out to the front of the shop, leaving us to strategize. I decided not to worry about what she was up to and told Grams my latest brainstorm. “Do you remember me telling you that I had a picnic with Royal the other night? Well—” Ignoring the flush that hit my cheeks at the thought of that picnic, I told Grams all about the single serving quiches Royal's chef had prepared.
“It's in our wheelhouse considering it's basically a pie. It's easy to keep warm without drying out and cook ahead of time. We can have samples outside like you did with the grilled cheese.”
“Oh, Daisy, you're brilliant. I love it! I'll do some research and come up with a few options. We can try them out and decide which ones—”
The door between the shop and the kitchen swung open with a flourish. My father strode through, arms spread wide.
My heart swelled and my stomach sank. He was here, finally.
Maybe now I’d get the answers I needed.
Maybe, but I doubted it.
Chapter Eighteen
Daisy
My father's grin matched my mother's. “My girls! I have all my girls together. I've missed you so much.”
I was struck dumb by his presence, by the sheer force of him and, uncomfortably, by his resemblance to Royal. Just like Royal, he filled the room. All that charisma wrapped around us as he pulled Grams into a hug and rocked her back and forth, half-dancing her across the kitchen until they reached me.
Then I was in their embrace, smelling my father's familiar cologne, his arms strong as he rocked me back and forth like he had Grams. I wanted to stay there in my dad's arms, soaking up his love, as fragile and illusory as I knew it was.
With a tight squeeze, he said, “My beautiful baby girl. I've missed you so much.” Leaning back, he took in my face and touched the same spot under my eye that Grams had. “Such a pretty girl shouldn't work so hard. I'm sending all you girls to the spa. You need a day off. You need a vacation! I'll get it all set up.”
I wanted to ask where he was getting the money to pay for us to go to the spa and if he had it could he please pay me back. Obviously, I couldn't do that because a) I doubted he had the money to send us to the spa, and b) if I asked for it I'd have to tell Grams why he owed me money.
Out of the corner of my eye, I took in Grams beaming at my father, and I knew that I wasn't hiding his debt just because I didn't want her to know I'd been stupid enough to lend him money.
I was partly doing it because I didn't want Grams to know her son had sunk low enough to scam his own daughter.
Maybe he didn't scam you, I tried to convince myself. Maybe he has the money—or at least some of it—and everything is going to be fine. I wanted to believe that was true.
I stepped out of his embrace and looked away, fiddling with the knot I'd tied in my apron. As soon as I was out of his immediate sphere he turned back to Grams and Mom, soaking in the love and approval beaming off both their faces. Grams was so happy to see him, she couldn't contain herself.
“Darren, Sheree didn't tell us you were coming today! I'm so glad I made a special dinner anyway. We've just about got the shop closed up, why don't you come back to the house with us, and we'll have a family dinner. You can tell us all about your adventures while we eat.”
My chest ached at the hope in her voice, hope I knew echoed in my own heart.
I could see the end from the beginning.
He was going to disappear along with my mom as abruptly as he'd appeared, and everyone would be the worse for his visit but him.
I'd told myself so many times that this is just who he is. I can't take it personally. That he isn't capable of loving like other people. I'd been able to live with those lies to myself right up until I'd let him sell me on his business plan and had handed over all that cash.
I'd believed for months that he'd come through. Now, looking at him, I wanted to hold on to that last shred of hope that everything was going to work out.
Dinner was excruciating. My father sat in Grams' spot at the head of the table telling story after story. People he met in Tampa, a card game where he won big, and the bulldog puppy in the final pot that he'd almost brought home with him. My mother and Grams hung on every word. I watched my mother's face, rapt with love and admiration, and wondered if I looked at Royal like that.
Was I just one more Hutchins woman to fall for a smooth, charming guy with nothing underneath? Was Royal really everything he seemed? Or did I just find him so attractive because a part of him reminded me of the Dad who was never quite there for me?
Was I really falling for Royal, or did I just have daddy issues?
For a second, I wished my dad had never come back, even if he did have my money.
Royal was not my father.
I knew that. I did. And still, seeing my dad—his thick, dark hair, similar build, and wickedly charming smile—all I felt was doubt.
I waited until dinner was over, until my mother and Grams had picked up their plates from the table and headed for the kitchen. My father stayed where he was, handing me his plate as I approached, so I could clear it for him. I took it, holding back the impulse to slam it over his head.
Aware of my mother and Grams only a closed door away, I didn't bother to soft-pedal. “Dad, you haven't been answering my calls. Do you have the money to pay me back? You said you'd have it months ago, and I'm running out of excuses for Grams.”
Annoyance flashed across my father's face. He gave a shake of his head as if flicking it away. In a blink, his smile was back. “Daisy, honey,” he said in a low tone that wouldn't carry to the kitchen, “I don't have it yet, but I will. I promise. That's why I'm here. To see my girls and do a little business.”
Ice spread through me at those words. “Dad, not here. Not in Sawyers Bend. Grams and I have a business here. Can't you just visit and then—”
Hurt filled my father's eyes. “You don't want me around? You aren't happy to see your dad?”
“It's not that, Dad. Of course, I want to see you. But I never told Grams I gave you that money. And it was from th
e business. You know that. I can't keep covering up—”
“Sure, you can, baby. I know how smart you are.” He stood and gave me a long hug. “You're my beautiful, brilliant girl, and I know you can give me just a little more time. I won't let you down.”
Taking the plate from my hands, he sauntered into the kitchen, leaving me with another flash of his grin and more problems than I'd had at the start of our conversation.
Typical.
I heard laughter through the kitchen door and fought back tears. I wanted to be on the inside, laughing with Grams and my mom. I didn't want to be standing here alone, angry at my parents and unable to look Grams in the eye. I piled the rest of the dishes in my arms and pushed through the kitchen door.
“I'm sorry to leave you with the dishes, Grams, but I still have to finish setup for tomorrow.” I dumped the dishes in the sink, avoiding my grandmother's eyes.
“You go on, baby. We've got this. Don't stay up too late, okay? You need your sleep.”
“I won't,” I lied, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. I'd do anything for Grams. Anything except tell her the truth about her son and the money he almost certainly wasn't going to pay back.
I walked home with my head down, studying the screen of my phone. Out of habit, I'd started to text J.T., but as I pulled up our message thread, I realized the person I really wanted to talk to was Royal. I didn't know why. My best friend would understand about my dad without any explanation. So, why did I want Royal?
I pushed away the desire to hear Royal's voice and texted J.T.
Guess what? Dad showed up tonight. Says he has business in town.
Nothing for an endless minute. I walked down the block, seeing tourists pass me by, spotting the Sweetheart sign all the way at the other end of the street. I'd lied to Grams a little. I was done with setup, I'd just needed to get out of there.
Finally, three dots appeared on the text screen.
WTF? Do you want me to come home? I know things have been tense with him…
Yep, J.T. knew things had been tense, though I hadn't told him why. He figured it was the usual. In some ways, it was. The money just added an extra layer to the complicated relationship I had with my parents. I was debating my response when the phone rang in my hand. J.T.'s face showed on the screen.
“Hey,” I answered. “How's school?”
“It's great. Are you okay?” His voice sounded muffled like he was keeping it low for privacy.
“I just left family dinner at Grams' house. Dad spent the whole time bragging about Tampa and the poker games he won. Telling us he was going to send us to the spa.”
J.T. laughed. I could picture him shaking his head as he usually did when it came to my dad. “Did he hit you up for your credit card for the spa before or after dinner?”
“I think he's waiting on that. He said he has business in town. I asked him not to get into any trouble but—”
“Fuck. That doesn't sound good. Since we know it's not like he got a job.”
“I know. I just, I don't know, J.T.—”
A voice filtered in from the background on J.T.'s end. “Hey man, you want me to tell them we're gonna be late?”
I wanted to ask J.T. who he was with and where they were going. Not to be nosy, just because he was my friend and I wanted to know about his life like I used to. Patience, Daisy, I reminded myself. “I'm okay if you need to go, J.T.”
“You don't sound okay, Daze. You sound like shit. I can come home. I have to get up early for class, but I'll come home, and we'll raid the bakery case for cookies and watch a movie.”
That sounded so good, but I couldn't take him up on it. It wasn't much after six, but it would take almost an hour to get here from Asheville and J.T. had to be at class at six-thirty in the morning.
I loved that he loved me enough to come home anyway, and I loved him enough not to let him.
“It's a date for the weekend,” I said. “I'm going to try to go to bed early. And it sounds like you have something fun on for tonight. I don't want you to miss it for me.”
“You sure? You know if you need me all you have to do is call.”
I knew he meant it, and that was enough to have tears springing to my eyes. I missed him now that he was gone so much, but a part of me was fiercely glad he was out there forging a life for himself. He'd been hiding away with me and Grams for way too long.
“I know. I love you. Go have fun.”
“Love you too, Daze.”
We hung up and I kept walking, feeling like I'd lost something, which was stupid because J.T. was still my best friend, and he always would be. He absolutely would have come home if I needed him to, just like if he needed me I'd drop everything to get to him.
But he had that friend waiting for him. The friend he still hadn't told me about.
I wasn't going to be the one to hold him back. And I wasn't going to ruin his night so I could whine about my shitty relationship with my parents. I'd survive, and one of us should have some fun.
I drew closer to Sweetheart Bakery but stopped in the middle of a block to check out the menu posted in a restaurant window. I wasn't going to try a full lunch service out of the bakery, but I had my eye open for simple ideas I could add to a modified lunch menu.
Once I got that little deck built and put out tables and chairs, I'd be able to serve sit-down meals for a good chunk of the year. If I could afford to cover part of the deck, I could use clear curtains and a space heater to extend the season.
A pang hit me when I thought about the change in schedule and all the money I had to save all over again.
Get over it, I ordered myself. You made this mess. Now you have to live with it.
The phone rang in my hand and I looked down to see Royal's name on the screen. I answered before I could talk myself out of it.
Chapter Nineteen
Daisy
Hey,” I said, way too eager for the sound of his voice.
“Hey back. What are you doing?”
With uncharacteristic honesty, I blurted out, “Walking home from family dinner at Grams' and feeling sorry for myself. How about you?”
“Sitting at my desk, also feeling sorry for myself. Want to come have a pity party with me? I have truffles and a split of champagne.”
“You have truffles and a split of champagne at your desk? Maybe I should have you come over to the bakery and stock my office. Why are you feeling sorry for yourself? Did you have a bad day?”
“I'll tell you all about it if you come to The Inn. Did you walk past it already?”
I had, kind of. The road from Grams' house hit Main Street in the middle. The bakery was on one end and The Inn on the other. Going to The Inn would mean retracing half my walk, plus adding another few blocks. I didn't care. I wasn't that tired. Especially not if Royal was my destination.
“I'm on my way.”
“See you soon,” Royal said, sending a thrill of anticipation through me.
Getting involved with Royal might be a bad idea. I wouldn't know until it was too late. But it didn't feel like a bad idea, and when it came to Royal, I was going with my gut. I sure as hell wasn't taking my mom's advice.
Just because Grams had fallen for a fast-talking older guy who left her pregnant at 16 and my mom had let my dad talk her into dropping out of college to marry him didn't mean I was going to pick a loser, too.
Royal was anything but a loser.
My feet moved faster on the way back toward The Inn. I could hardly believe it when I looked up and spotted Royal coming down the street toward me. He turned just as he pulled even with me, reaching out to take my hand. We walked side by side back toward The Inn, his fingers wrapped around mine, saying nothing.
I didn't need words just then. His presence at my side was enough to smooth the rough edges left by dinner with my parents. When we reached The
Inn, Royal guided me around the side, through the parking lot.
“It's a nice night, so I thought I'd show you the gardens. I promise the gardens at The Inn are much better than Heartstone's. And I want to show you the project I've been working on.”
“That sounds great,” I said. “I'd love to see The Inn’s gardens.” As we rounded the building and stepped onto the gravel path, a young woman in an Inn uniform strode up and handed Royal a basket. With a nod at Royal and me, she disappeared.
Royal hooked the handle of the basket in the crook of his arm but didn't say anything about the contents. I resisted the urge to ask what was inside, hoping it was the truffles and champagne. I asked the other question I wanted answered. “Did you have a bad day?”
Royal's smile was rueful. “Not the worst day ever, but frustrating and way too long. I was late getting out to Heartstone this afternoon because I was getting our new CFO settled in. I think he's going to be a great fit, but I underestimated how long it would take to show him the ropes. Then Savannah ran into an electrical problem at the Manor, which ate up half of our afternoon, and worse, is delaying getting Bryce and Ophelia out of The Inn.”
“Is that why you were back in your office?”
“Things came up this afternoon while I was at Heartstone that I needed to deal with. I guess it wasn't a bad day so much as too long. I like the ending, though.”
Another smile, this one leaving me breathless. He was so handsome when he smiled. Royal was handsome all the time, but when he smiled, really smiled, he was blindingly gorgeous.
Looking up at him, I wondered how I could have thought he was anything like my dad. In looks and charm, yes, absolutely. My dad and Royal had both to spare. But my dad never would have put in a long day doing any kind of work, much less juggling two businesses and family at the same time. My dad couldn't even clear his own fucking plate from the table.
I squeezed my fingers around Royal's and smiled back. “I like the ending, too.”
I have to admit I was barely paying attention to the gardens other than to register that they were green, filled with flowers, and beautiful. As the sun slowly set, fairy lights twinkled to life in some of the trees and glowing spotlights illuminated the path.