by JoAnn Durgin
Sidney flashed a disarming smile that Isabella imagined would handily win over jurors and more than a few gullible women. That smile completely transformed his features, making him impossibly attractive. A Boston lawyer shouldn’t have such natural, healthy color in his cheeks. Didn’t most attorneys spend all their time holed up in their offices or a law library researching case studies and studying legal briefs?
Enough with the stereotyping. She had better ways to spend her time than speculating about some guy who’d parked his obnoxious car in front of her store and would only be here long enough to get what he wanted.
Play nice, Isabella.
Maybe more anger than she realized still lingered from the fallout of her relationship with Tristan. “Fudge might be a little cheap but, like you said, Caroline’s charitable.”
He shook his head. “When did I say that?”
“You said you felt sure she wouldn’t turn you away.”
“As I recall, I said reasonably sure.” Their gazes locked.
Isabella pulled out the tray of fudge. “The fudge is delicious—some of the best in the region—and I’m sure she’ll love it. Here’s what we’ll do, Sidney. I’ll give you some chocolate walnut to sample. While you’re enjoying it, if I can coerce or threaten Tommy to come back inside and mind the store, I’ll dart to the back and call Caroline.”
“No.” Sidney stood up straighter. “Don’t call Caroline. Like I said, I’d rather surprise her.”
Isabella frowned as she cut a small slice of the fudge. Plucking a piece of bakery tissue paper from a box on the counter, she put the fudge on it, and then pushed it across the counter. “Then it would seem we have a conundrum here.”
Taking the knife she’d left on the counter, Sidney cut off one small end of the sample. “I don’t have a problem, but you seem to have one.” He put the rich confection in his mouth and made an exaggerated show of savoring it. “Excellent. I’ll take a slice for Caroline. Make it a really big slab.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She’d half expected him to want the entire inventory of chocolate walnut fudge. After cutting a generous slice, Isabella transferred the fudge onto more bakery tissue paper.
The bell on the door jingled and Tommy came back inside as she wrapped the fudge and slid it inside a Mahoney’s brown paper bag.
“Thanks for letting me sit behind the wheel, man.” Tommy tossed the keys to Sidney. “Sweet Betty, that car is beyond awesome.”
“Welcome.” Sidney caught the keys with one hand and then pocketed them with a satisfied nod, appearing pleased by Tommy’s fawning. “Who’s Betty?”
Tommy shrugged. “Nobody. Isabella didn’t like me taking the Lord’s name in vain. Then I started saying Sweet Moses, but she didn’t like that either. She didn’t seem to mind Betty so much.”
“Still sounds irreverent,” Isabella mumbled as she replaced the tray of fudge in the case. She seriously needed to get out of the store more often. Now she sounded like Miss Millicent, referred to as Maid Millicent by some. The middle-aged librarian chastised anyone for saying anything she perceived as a curse. In Isabella’s marketing firm, she’d worked in a perpetual hotbed of cursing the likes of which would make Millicent’s ears curl.
Sidney pushed his fudge across the counter toward Tommy. “I need some directions. Want to help me convince Isabella?”
“You got it, buddy. Where are you headed?”
When Tommy reached for Sidney’s fudge, Isabella laid a hand on his wrist. “No eating the customer’s fudge while you’re on the clock.” She glanced up at Sidney. “And no bribing my employees.”
Sidney and Tommy uttered Yes, ma’am simultaneously. Laughing, Tommy high-fived the other man.
“Tommy, did you officially meet our visitor?”
“Nah. We were busy talking about the car.”
“In that case, Tommy Morton, meet Caroline’s brother from Boston. This is Sidney Prescott.”
Tommy grabbed Sidney’s hand and pumped it up and down. “Nice to meet you, Sidney.”
“Likewise.” Sidney angled his head in her direction. “Tough boss you’ve got here.”
Tommy grinned. “Isabella’s cool. She keeps me in line.”
“I have no doubt.” Sidney gave her his best smile. He needed to stop doing that.
The bell jingled and Cynthia Pederson stepped inside the store. She untied the pink ribbons beneath her chin and removed her sun hat. “Afternoon one and all. Isn’t it a glorious day?” With one hand, she fanned her flushed cheeks.
“That it is.” Isabella felt Sidney’s gaze on her as she exchanged pleasantries with the woman. A minute later, she summoned Tommy. “Can you please show Cynthia where we’ve moved the sewing supplies?”
“Sure thing. Right this way, Mrs. Pederson.” Gesturing for her to follow, he asked Cynthia a question about her new car. Tommy was personable, great with their customers, and—at least for the foreseeable future—seemed to have no greater ambition than working at Mahoney’s. In many ways, he was the ideal employee.
Isabella returned to the counter where Sidney watched her with a thoughtful expression.
“Seems we’re at a standoff,” he said. “I’d like to propose a compromise.”
Isabella retrieved her clipboard and pretended to study the inventory. “I’m listening.”
“Can you get away from the store for about an hour?”
“Excuse me?” She glanced up at him.
“The way I see it, the most logical solution for my dilemma, and yours, is to ride along and show me how to find Caroline’s house.” This man could certainly turn on the charm when he wanted. She felt his smile down to her toes.
“So, how about it, Isabella? Come with me?”
Chapter 3
Isabella made a chicken scratch on the inventory and then tapped the eraser on the clipboard. “Who said I have a dilemma?”
“You didn’t have to say anything.”
When she increased her tapping to a rapid-fire pace, Sidney stilled the pencil. Taking it from her, he laid it on the counter. “I can tell you need to get out of here. It’s a gorgeous Maine afternoon. Not too hot with a light breeze.”
When she didn’t immediately answer, he continued. “The fudge is great. Locally made?”
Now he wanted to be chatty? More than that, his apparent ability to read her with alarming accuracy was disconcerting.
“Yes. A couple of young mothers who live over in Bethel make it for us.” Although grateful for the change of topic, Isabella knew he’d steer his way back to the main topic sooner than later. She figured a lawyer must be quite practiced at that very thing.
“What percentage of the items sold in the store would you say are locally made?”
Why did this man care? “Hard to say, but I’d guesstimate about forty percent, give or take.”
“I take it you’re the store manager?”
“Yes. I’m also the owner.”
Sidney’s brows lifted with obvious surprise. “Impressive. You seem fairly young to be the owner.”
“Thanks, I guess.” Fairly young? She’d gotten the same reaction when she’d first moved to town. Maybe she should consider dressing a little older, a bit more professionally. Still, this was a store with hardwood floors, ceiling fans, dust bunnies, and an unfortunate hint of mildew she’d need to seek out and eradicate. Her T-shirts, cotton tops, jeans, and shorts allowed her to climb ladders, scrub and clean, sort through stock in the backroom, and run around the store with freedom. Besides, she’d had enough of high heels and power suits in Hartford to last a lifetime.
“I meant that as a compliment.” Sidney’s comment broke into her musing.
“My aunt and uncle opened the store back in the mid-70s,” she told him. “Uncle Phil died a few years ago, and then a little over a year ago, Aunt Clara retired and sold the business to me. She still lives in Evergreen and pops in on occasion to help out.”
“Did you grow up around here? I’m not detecting the
Maine accent.”
“No. I grew up in California and ended up in Hartford before coming here.”
“How long did you live in Hartford?”
She hesitated. “Why do I feel like I’m a defendant on the witness stand?”
“I’m sorry, Isabella.” Sidney’s cheeks flushed, and he had the grace to lower his gaze.
“Since I finished school,” she said. He didn’t need to know details.
“I guess I’m trying to figure out why someone would purposely—”
“Move to a little no-name town like Evergreen, Maine?” Isabella leveled her gaze on him. “Because after actively pursuing the corporate dream, I woke up to the fact that taking care of my soul was more important than padding my bank account. Not that my path is for everyone, but it’s what I needed to do.”
Nodding slowly, Sidney turned and glanced around the store. “It’s a rare thing to find this kind of store anymore. We have boutiques and mom and pop stores in the city, but Mahoney’s definitely holds its own unique”—his gaze returned to hers—“charms.”
Isabella blew out a sigh. If he was flirting, she didn’t want to go down that path, either. “I’m glad you can see what a lot of people take for granted. I need to make some updates to the store, but I’ve learned how to make it work for now.”
Scooting over to the ancient cash register, she gave it an affectionate pat. “Take Cash, for example.”
“You named the register Cash?”
“I didn’t, no. If I had, it’d be a more original name, but don’t you think it’s cute? Uncle Phil named it, and now I can’t seem to part with the old guy.”
“Why would you? Cash is an antique treasure. You could always give it a place of honor and install a more modern machine. Don’t tell me you still run the credit charges through…” With an arched brow, Sidney made a motion as though sliding a credit card through an old-fashioned machine.
“Yep,” she said. “You have to understand the locals pay cash for the most part. Or we still allow them to write checks. It’s normally the city sl—our, um, visitors that use plastic.” Huh. She’d adopted the phrase city slickers without even realizing it.
“Do you get a lot of visitors in the store?”
“More than you might expect, especially during the summer months. Like I said, that billboard helps. We’re also headed into tourist season now.” Time to tease him a little. “Why all the questions, Sidney? Are you thinking of buying the place?” Isabella nodded toward the car parked at the curb. “I suppose if you sold that fancy car of yours, you probably could buy it and still have a decent chunk of change to spare. Not that Mahoney’s is for sale, mind you. Please don’t start that rumor.”
“I’m not in the market for a general store today, thanks. As far as the car, it’s not mine. It’s a loaner from a dealer friend of mine in Boston.”
Oh. She really needed to stop the premature judgments. “A car dealer?”
“Very funny.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Yes, an automobile dealer. As far as I know, Benito doesn’t deal in anything else. If he does, I don’t want to know.”
“With a name like Benito, I wouldn’t be so sure. I suppose a short ride in that borrowed jalopy of yours might be a nice afternoon break. One problem, though. How will I get back into town? Normally, I wouldn’t mind a brisk, five-mile walk, but I have plans after work today.”
“No worries. I’ll drive you back.” Crossing his arms over the back of Cash, he grinned. “Hot date tonight?”
Her pulse went haywire. “That’s not up for discussion.”
“I still don’t know your last name. That information isn’t off-limits, is it? Isabella…?”
“Just Isabella. Let’s leave it at that.” This man asked too many questions. And she’d been around enough to know the uptight lawyer from Boston was loosening up and…definitely flirting.
Be strong. Resist this guy.
“Have it your way.” Sidney began to wrap what was left of his fudge sample inside the baker’s tissue paper. “I could just ask Tommy, you know.”
“Feel free. For that matter, you should have asked him for directions to Caroline and Seth’s house when you had the chance. Could have saved yourself some money.” Smiling, Isabella handed him a small bag for his fudge.
Tommy usually stumbled over her last name, too, even though it was on his bi-monthly paycheck. Most people didn’t use last names in Evergreen. Liesel and Paul’s four-year-old daughter was the only one who shared her first name, but they called her Bella.
“What do I owe you?”
“Nothing. It’s on the house. From the Evergreen Welcome Wagon.”
“Why, that’s mighty neighborly of you.”
“I’d say it’s more like I’m a pushover.”
He chuckled. “Can I quote you on that?”
“No, you may not. I only meant you must be good at your job since you’re obviously efficient at getting what you want.”
“I don’t know about that.” Sidney’s smile sobered.
“Let me rephrase.” Isabella’s cheeks grew warm. “You work very hard at getting what you want.” Maybe that wasn’t any better.
“I try my best,” he said. “I also want to see Caroline. She’s been a voice of reason when I’ve stopped long enough to listen. You’ve already called me cheap, so the least I can do is pay you for her slab of fudge.” Retrieving his wallet again, Sidney whipped out a fifty dollar bill and slid it across the counter.
Isabella bit her lower lip. “I don’t suppose you have anything smaller?” Making change for a fifty would seriously drain her supply of smaller bills. If needed, the bank was open for another hour.
In response, Sidney pointed to a hand-blown glass paperweight inside the case. “I’ll take that blue and green paperweight.”
“Good choice.” The piece was a personal favorite of hers that Earl had picked up on Monday morning. After unlocking the case, Isabella placed the paperweight on his waiting, outstretched palm.
“Looks like expert craftsmanship.” Turning the piece, Sidney ran his hand over its smooth contours and then traced the delicate swirled design with one finger. “I’m guessing this is also locally made?”
Isabella nodded. “If you look closely, you’ll see a small heart design near the center. It’s bittersweet, really. The man who makes these paperweights lost his only daughter to cancer a few years ago. In her memory, he puts a heart in everything he creates. It’s become his hallmark feature. See? The heart’s right there.”
Her fingers touched his as Isabella pointed to the heart. How could that brief touch make her senses come alive? Crazy, but they did. Embarrassed by her short, unpainted fingernails, Isabella was thankful she’d at least scrubbed beneath them earlier that morning.
“It’s like his father’s heart—his love for his daughter—carries on in each of the pieces he creates.” She turned the paperweight to show Sidney the bottom. “The paperweight is also signed and dated.”
“So, as far as you know, Caroline hasn’t seen this particular piece yet?”
“Not that I’m aware of since we just got it in earlier this week.” What made her think Sidney would be interested in a story like that? This man dealt in facts, not sentimentality. Moving over to Cash, Isabella rang up the sale and counted out his change.
“How old?”
Isabella shook her head. “I’m sorry. What?”
“How old was the man’s daughter when she died?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I think she was in her early twenties. Would you like the paperweight wrapped?”
“That’s not necessary.” As Sidney pocketed the change, he appeared lost in thought. “Do you have a gift bag?”
“Yes, but the paperweight’s heavy. I wouldn’t want it to fall through the bottom and fall on your big toe or anything. I should have a sturdy box for it. Let me check.” She held up one finger. “Hold tight. I’ll be back in just a minute.”
“I’m holding. Take your ti
me. I’ll…count pickles or something.”
Did I really mention his big toe?
Isabella walked into the backroom, mentally willing her pulse to slow. She scanned the long rows of cluttered shelves, making a mental note to do some more organizing. She’d improved the hodgepodge this room had been since taking over the store, but she had a long way to go. After rummaging around on a shelf, Isabella selected a plain white gift box.
“Does Caroline shop here often?” Sidney said when she returned to the front counter.
“Once or twice a week on average. Friday’s the day she usually stops by since she comes into town and has lunch with her friend, Liesel Mattingly.” After peeling the price tag from the bottom, Isabella wrapped the paperweight in tissue paper. Sidney watched as she packaged the gift and affixed a gold oval Mahoney’s General Store sticker.
“Liesel’s the woman from Landon’s? The bed and breakfast here in town?”
“That’s right.” Isabella began to tie a maroon satin bow around the gift box. “Liesel’s the daughter of the owners. Caroline and Seth were both staying at Landon’s when they first met a few years ago, the weekend Liesel got married. Liesel’s folks retired and moved away, and now Liesel and her husband, Paul, run Landon’s.”
Finished with the bow, she nodded. “All done. Sorry to go into all that. I’m sure that’s probably old information to you.”
“It’s not, although I know Caroline holds great affection for Evergreen and the people here.” A slight frown creased Sidney’s forehead. “Guess I have some catching up to do. Tell me, what’s Caroline’s favorite thing to buy in the store?”
“She’s my best customer for the handmade quilts.” Isabella caught his expression. “Please don’t tell me you want to buy a quilt now? You really don’t need to do that.”
“Why not? I don’t know how much they cost, but I’m thinking it’d be a good sale for you.” This man had probably never asked the cost of anything in his life.
“I’m sure she’ll be perfectly fine with the fudge and the paperweight. And I don’t need your—”