No Sweeter Love (Sweeter in the City Book 3)

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No Sweeter Love (Sweeter in the City Book 3) Page 3

by Olivia Miles


  She’ll understand, Claire told herself firmly. Hailey understood everything. They’d known each other all their lives; they’d been raised more like sisters than cousins. Hailey knew every detail of her life, every emotion, every heartache; every small memory . . .it was all shared.

  She turned, ready to tell her cousin the worst of the day’s events, but the concern in Hailey’s eyes stopped her. She bit her lip instead, looked away, brushing her hair back from her face to fiddle with her earring.

  Guilt gnawed at her. She had to tell her the truth, but to do so . . .

  Not tonight, she decided, not until she’d figured things out. She’d come up with a plan. She’d spend all day tomorrow pounding the pavement for a new job. She might even ask Louis to take her back—what could it hurt? There had to be a match for her experience somewhere. She just hadn’t found it yet. Perhaps tomorrow would be the day!

  She’d try everything, and only once she knew it was hopeless would she tell Hailey the truth. That she had messed up, that her life was in shambles, and that the coat closet would remain filled of all her worldly possessions for at least another few months. And hopefully not more.

  “Ethan invited me to a family wedding next weekend,” Claire said, happy to move onto another subject. “We’ll leave next Wednesday. I guess it’s a big to-do. Lots of parties before the big event.”

  But Hailey frowned. “Your boss is already willing to give you time off?”

  Claire felt her cheeks flame. “Oh. Well, he’s still working out my shifts,” she said. “It’s not going to be a regular nine to five schedule.”

  To her relief, Hailey just shrugged. “Well, if you need to pick up some extra shifts at the café, just let me know.”

  “Thanks,” Claire, said. “That sounds great.”

  Because it did sound great. And because thanks to Ethan and Hailey, she had almost stopped thinking about Matt and that engagement ring, and the fact that the entire time she’d loved him, he’d loved someone else.

  Chapter Three

  Even though the Corner Beanery didn’t open for another hour, Claire was happy to arrive early, before the commotion that always came with the turn of the sign as busy commuters popped in for coffee on their way to the “L” station just a few blocks down the street.

  “Need any help?” she asked as Hailey walked around the small room, flicking on the lights.

  “On your day off? Sit. Relax. Something tells me you aren’t going to get much of that once Ethan picks you up today.”

  Claire settled into a coveted table near the window, normally occupied from morning to night. “Actually, I think it will be very relaxing. Ethan said we’d ride bikes—”

  “Bikes?” Hailey started to laugh as she poured the coffee beans into the grinder. “Somehow I struggle to picture Ethan on a bike.”

  Claire wrinkled her nose. The image she pulled to mind was awkward, or at least, not exactly typical of Ethan’s fast-paced lifestyle. Ethan liked cars and cabs and the rush of the city. It was strange to think of him growing up in such a remote, small-town like the one he described.

  She waited until her cousin had disappeared into the kitchen to start on the muffins and scones before carefully sliding the newspaper from her handbag. She supposed it was old fashioned to look for jobs through the classifieds anymore, but she was grasping for hope here, and she needed to keep all her options open. In the week since she’d been let go from the jewelry store, she’d found only five jobs to apply for, and with each day that ticked by without a phone call, her anxiety grew.

  She swept her eyes over the ads, pen poised, her heart thumping with hope at the first listing and then sinking with dread by the last. Unless she wanted to take up “dancing” or enter into a pyramid scheme, there didn’t seem to be much to choose from. She was either over-qualified or under-qualified, or just not right for any job at all.

  She chewed on her nail and stared out the window as the morning trickle to the “L” stop began. All those people, off to paying jobs, while she sat here in the window, envying the purpose they had to their day. Someone was off to her job today, she thought with a start. The job she’d given up. They were sitting at her desk, chatting with her coworkers, working on projects she’d initiated . . .

  Well, she thought, brightening. She did have purpose today, at least. In three hours, Ethan was picking her up and they were headed up to Grey Harbor. An entire weekend of distraction and fun awaited her. Yes, she had something to do today, and even if it wasn’t exactly productive, it sure as heck beat sitting in Hailey’s apartment, imagining the words Matt might use to propose to the woman he’d always loved, or wondering how she would pretend to have been at work all day when Hailey arrived home.

  That was the worst part. And she couldn’t keep it up much longer.

  “What do you think of those chairs?” Hailey asked as she came back into the storefront, tying an apron at her waist.

  “These?” Claire frowned and looked down at the simple wooden chair. “I’ve never thought about them. Why?”

  “I was just thinking of refreshing the place a bit. Maybe adding more color. Changing the light fixtures. Getting some new artwork.” Hailey set her hands on her hips and looked around the space. Claire did the same, from the large glass display case to the gleaming espresso machine. The ceilings were tall, covered in decorative tin, and the far wall was made of exposed brick. The few tables were a rich medium brown wood, similar to the floorboards, but despite the dark furnishings, the light from the windows gave the space a warm and cozy feel.

  “I like it. Don’t change it. There’s been too much change recently.”

  She hadn’t ever come to the Corner Beanery back when she’d been with Matt, or even before she’d first met him. Her job in the South Loop was too far from Lincoln Park, and her apartment on the near west side made it equally inconvenient. Since moving into the neighborhood, she considered the small café to be her home away from home. A happy bustling place that Matt would never come to.

  Probably, she thought, darting her eyes to the window. Technically, he could now be living in Lincoln Park, walking to the Armitage station at this very moment.

  She felt shaky as she pushed her chair back and walked over to the counter. The chances were low, she told herself. No point in even worrying about it.

  Still, it was nice to know she would be going out of town for the weekend.

  Hailey stared thoughtfully at the far wall. “I was thinking of painting out the brick. White. Giving it an airy feeling.”

  Claire considered this. “It would be pretty. Think about it first before you rush into anything, though. Once you do it, you can’t undo it.”

  “Careful Claire.” Hailey laughed, teasing her with a decade-old nickname Claire had been given for refusing to skip gym class in lieu of a trip to the mall junior year of high school. Even though Mr. Bateman never took attendance, one could never be too careful, Claire had told her friends, who rolled their eyes and had their fun without her.

  More like reckless Claire, she thought now. Impulsive Claire. The old Claire never would have lost her job. But then, the old Claire never would have quit it either. Not without something lined up.

  “It’s not like I need to worry about it now, anyway. All my ideas for this place cost money, and I don’t have any at the moment.” Hailey shrugged. “Better go check on those muffins before the chaos hits. On second thought, mind getting the coffee started for me?”

  Claire nodded silently. It was the least she could do for her cousin, considering she wasn’t even paying rent. She felt sick to her stomach as she ground the rest of the beans and started three brews: robust, medium, and decaf. She was just beginning to think she should leave and busy herself with packing for the trip when there was a knock at the door.

  Claire turned to see her friend Mary Harris smiling and waving through the glass door, her hair pulled back in a ponytail that was nearly as perky as her floral sundress. With one last press of a butto
n, she hurried from behind the counter and crossed the room to turn the locks, excited to see a familiar face.

  “You’re here early today,” Claire commented. “I just put the coffee on.”

  “I wanted to see Lila before I went to the shop. It’s going to be a hot one today and I’m expecting a record turnout this weekend.” Mary beamed as she set her handbag on the counter, causing several slips of paper covered with what Claire knew to be ice-cream recipe ideas to spill onto the glass surface.

  “Lila’s not here yet,” Claire said, but she would be soon, and she was looking forward to it. Hailey had offered up more than just a place to crash when Claire had so hastily thrown away her life. She’d also introduced her to women who had quickly become her friends, too.

  “What do you think about Berry Jubilee for July’s flavor of the month?” Mary suddenly asked, her eyes gleaming as they usually did when she started thinking of new flavors for her ice cream parlor, Sunshine Creamery. “I was thinking it would be a vanilla base with blueberries and cherries.”

  “Very red, white, and blue.” Claire pulled a mug from the shelf as the coffee began to percolate, and then, on second thought, took two. She had hours to pack, and a little time with friends did wonders for her mood.

  “What’s red, white, and blue?” Lila asked as she closed the door behind her. She checked her watch and then turned the locks. Claire smiled her thanks across the room.

  “A new ice cream flavor. Ben thought it would all turn purple, but I have my methods.”

  “Ben.” Lila winked up at Claire and then smiled back at her younger sister. “And how is Ben these days?”

  Mary gave a dreamy smile at the mention of her boyfriend. “Wonderful as ever. The house might even be ready by August. Violet can’t wait to see her new room. It’s going to be pink, of course, but I talked her into a touch of mint for variety.”

  “If things keep up like this, you’ll be planning your wedding next. I’m sure little Violet would love to be a flower girl for her father’s wedding.” Lila sighed. “Three more weeks until Sam and I tie the knot. I can’t believe how much can change in a year.”

  I can, thought Claire. A year ago she had life all figured out. Now . . .

  “Coffee, Lila?” she asked abruptly, eager to change the subject and keep her thoughts on track.

  “Please.” Lila settled onto a counter stool beside Mary. “How’s the new job?”

  It took Claire a moment to realize that the question had been directed at her. Her hands stilled as she reached for another mug, and she took a moment to compose herself before replying, “Fine, fine.” She kept her eyes trained on the coffee maker. She couldn’t turn around and look them in the eye. It was hard enough to skirt Hailey’s friendly inquisition, but to lie to her friends as well?

  “Claire’s going away for the weekend,” Hailey announced as she pushed through the kitchen door carrying a plate of blueberry muffins topped with crumbly streusel. “With Ethan.” Her lips twisted into a little smile.

  Claire rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that.” She slid the steaming mugs to Lila and Mary. “He has a family wedding. I’ve agreed to go as his date.”

  Mary’s eyebrows shot up. “His date?”

  “More like his babysitter,” Claire clarified. “There was some trouble with his family at his sister’s wedding last summer.”

  Lila stirred a packet of creamer into her coffee. “Tell me a time when Ethan isn’t causing trouble.”

  Claire laughed. It was all in good fun, she knew, and Ethan did have quite the reputation. And yes, he did cause his fair bit of trouble. But never with her.

  At least that was one thing she could count on.

  ***

  Two and a half hours later, Claire studied the contents of her suitcase with a critical eye. They’d be gone for four nights, returning on Sunday evening, and by her estimation she’d packed for a two-week vacation.

  Still, she thought, Hailey would be thrilled to have a little more closet space for a few days, so really, it was the right thing to do.

  Claire added another day dress to the pile and hesitated. It was just like Ethan to be so vague about the whole thing, only mentioning the possibility of a formal rehearsal dinner when prodded, and glossing over the wedding brunch as if it were nothing more than a trip to a diner. Claire added one last pair of sandals to the bag, wedging them in as best she could, and sighed.

  Better overly prepared than under prepared, she thought, closing it shut and yanking the zipper. She’d always been a bit Type A, always the one who studied in advance, not crammed for an exam. Always the one who made lists, scratched things off, set goals and met them. She was a planner. Right up until all her plans blew up.

  She pulled the zipper tight. Right, well, no use thinking about that now. Or the fact that the past week had produced no new leads in the career department. Or that she was running out of places to hide during the day when she was supposedly still at the jewelry store. Or that she felt sick to her stomach every time Hailey nicely asked how her day had gone. She was going away for the weekend, she would clear her head, have a few laughs, put some distance between herself and this city. And when she got back, she’d be ready to tackle her new life properly. And this time, well, this time she’d get it right. And that started with one promise: No more unsuitable men.

  Claire scribbled a friendly good-bye note to Hailey and tucked it under the fruit bowl on the counter, grabbing two bananas from the pile as she walked to the front door and slipped on her flip-flops, hoping she could manage the suitcase down the winding stairs without slipping. She hesitated only briefly, wondering if she should clear out a few items, and then decided there was no time, not unless she wanted to make the apartment a mess in her rush, and that wouldn’t be fair to Hailey, who Claire suspected was looking nearly as forward to having this apartment to herself for a few days as Claire was happy to be getting away from it.

  Ethan was already in the front of her building when she emerged, sweaty and a little exhausted, a few minutes later, the suitcase bumping along behind her.

  “I would have carried that down for you,” he remarked, stepping out of the car to pop the trunk, the hazard lights blinking.

  “And where were you going to find parking at this hour?” she replied, motioning to the cab that was struggling to get through the narrow, one-way street. He gestured with impatience and honked on the horn twice to underscore his annoyance. Claire turned to Ethan. “We’d better be on with it.”

  “I suppose we should,” Ethan said, frowning as he slammed the trunk closed.

  Claire slid into the passenger seat and waited for him to turn off the street before asking, “Okay. What’s going on?”

  Ethan shifted gears as he approached the next intersection, his gaze never shifting from the road. “Nothing is going on.”

  She tipped her head, giving him a coy look, even though she knew he didn’t see it. “Please. I can read you like a book. Now what is it? Another break-up?”

  He snorted. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been celibate since Marla.”

  “An entire week!” Claire hooted. She didn’t say how long it had been for her; it was obvious anyway. She hadn’t dated since Matt had left her standing in a half-empty apartment with nothing to say and nowhere to go. But at least she had people to turn to, even if she hated having to lean on them.

  “It’s not that unusual,” Ethan said, his jaw tightening as he pushed through a yellow light.

  “Are we in a hurry?” Claire asked, resisting the urge to reach for the door handle.

  “Hardly,” Ethan said wryly. “In fact, I was hoping to drag out the inevitable for as long as possible.”

  “I thought you liked your family!” Claire said in surprise.

  “Never said I didn’t. But weddings aren’t my thing.”

  “Oh, and here I would have thought you’d see them as tromping grounds. A room full of desperate women, hoping to catch the bouquet…”

&n
bsp; He slanted her a glance. “More like a room full of women hoping to catch a groom. Uh-uh. No thank you.”

  Claire rolled her eyes and reached into her handbag for her sunglasses. “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing I’m tagging along then. You’re safe with a date.”

  “I am,” Ethan said, looping his wrist over the steering wheel. “Thanks again for agreeing to it.”

  “Consider the favor all mine,” Claire said, waving away his concern. “I feel better already, just knowing I get out of town for a while. I have a feeling Hailey is excited, too. She doesn’t let on, but I know my presence is, well, cumbersome.”

  “It’s a small apartment,” Ethan agreed. “How’d she react to you staying on a bit longer?”

  Claire chewed on her nail and stared out the window, saying nothing.

  “You haven’t told her yet?” Ethan was incredulous. “What have you been doing all day when you are supposedly at work?”

  “Looking for a job, of course!” She would become a waitress if she had to—the tips would be good, even if her time in the café had proven that she was hopeless at things like foaming milk or even carrying trays without her arms shaking and the dishes clattering.

  “If you don’t tell her soon, she’s going to figure it out,” Ethan warned.

  “I know.” Claire sighed. Hailey would be mad, but she would also be forgiving. She was kind like that. Just another reason Claire didn’t want to disappoint her, not when she’d given her so much already. Without Hailey . . .Claire couldn’t even think about it. “I’ll get a job,” she said firmly. “I had a job. I can get another one. I’m experienced. I’m determined.”

  “That’s the Claire I’ve missed!” Ethan leaned over and patted her knee. It was quick, and casual, but not fast enough to stop the flurry of butterflies from ripping through her stomach. Claire stiffened and looked out the window, accidentally making eye contact with a middle-aged man in the next car. She looked down at her bare legs, shielded by her cotton skirt, and silently scolded herself. After this weekend she’d create a dating profile, get out there again. It was clearly time to move on. To find someone appropriate. And Ethan was not appropriate.

 

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