He exhaled. "Thank you for understanding."
"I understand nothing," she replied. "You don't belong in that country club — are you kidding me? You'd be miserable."
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "So what's your suggestion, then?"
She lifted her shoulders and said, "Easy. You're going to open a gym. I'm going to be your number-one investor."
"Claire." Nate rubbed at the back of his neck. His day had been going so damn well, and now it was all awkward. "I appreciate that. I really do. To be honest, I've been looking into the possibility of opening a gym, but there are some barriers."
She listened attentively as he detailed his discussions with George Dinardo and told her about the space. She asked thoughtful questions that indicated she knew a few things about running a business — questions about tax deductions and depreciations, returns on investment, and capitalization. Before he knew it, they were both leaning against the hood of the SUV, deep in conversation as the morning sun grew warmer.
"I'm going to be frank," Claire said at a pause in the conversation. "I want to invest in your gym. Not out of charity, but out of faith that you're going to make me a shit ton of money."
Nate laughed softly, feeling the conflict within him. On the one hand, he agreed with Claire: he could open a gym, and he could kick ass. On the other hand, there was always the possibility he could fail, and he didn't want to do that to Claire.
She sensed his hesitation. "You're not going to do this, are you? You're going to take that terrible country club job instead." She shook her head sadly. "Sorry to say, I'm not about to give up on you. I know you can do this, and I'm going to keep pushing you."
Nate stared down at his feet, wondering what he was so afraid of, anyway. Well, maybe it was just that he was used to being a lone wolf, doing his own thing without having anyone else depend on him. "The last thing I want is to let you down."
"Hey." Claire reached over to put a hand on his shoulder, but the look in her eyes was serious, not sympathetic. "You've never let me down. You're so thoughtful, I doubt you've ever let anyone down in your entire life. How about taking something for yourself this time? You never know, you may like getting what you actually want."
His thoughts flew to Jessie and quickly turned graphic. Yeah, he liked it, all right. Nate cleared his throat. "Okay. Let's say, for argument's sake, that I'm willing to keep an open mind about...what is this? A partnership?"
"I could be persuaded to be a silent investor or a silent partner."
"All right. You seem like you have some experience with these things. Let's assume I don't. So." He looked at her. "What's the plan?"
Claire grinned and linked her arm with his. "How much time do you have before your next client?"
"I'm free until noon."
"Then let's keep the workout light and talk shop in my kitchen. I do my best plotting over tea."
Normally, Jessie loved working with her family. On days that she came to work after a night of being shagged silly, however, she felt a little strange about the whole thing.
"Hey, Jess," Uncle Hank called from the kitchen. "Can you get me some bananas?"
Bananas. They were a harmless fruit — so why did her mind choose to go dirty? By the time she reached the kitchen with the bunch, her cheeks were enflamed and she couldn't look her uncle in the eyes.
Jeez. It's not like she'd been a virgin! Maybe she wasn't the most experienced person in the world, and maybe her last boyfriend hadn't been exactly attentive in that department, and perhaps there had been a long, long dry spell before that...Still, sex had never made her lose her damn mind before. Though she'd never had sex like that, either.
Gosh. Nate had played her like a harp, knowing when to apply pressure and when to go gently. He took full control, and she loved every second of it. And the more she thought about him, the hotter she became, and the hotter she became, the more she giggled at menu items in Hedda's like "sweet nut rolls" and "hot buns." Because apparently sex with Nate made her a ten-year-old girl.
She needed a distraction. Fortunately, Emily was working, as well. "Did you have fun last night, Em?" Jessie asked during an afternoon lull. She could guess the answer, because Emily had misbuttoned her shirt for the first time ever, and had screwed up two lunch orders. If Jessie had to guess, Emily was giggling at bananas, too.
"Dinner was great," Emily said coyly.
"And how about drinks? Didn't you and Max stay?"
Yep, there it was! Emily looked away and pretended to be excruciatingly interested in a spot on the counter. "Drinks were great. I think Sam's has the best bartenders in town, don't you?" She licked her lips before looking back at Jessie. "Did you and Nate head home?"
"Yes. I mean, no. I drove him to my home and then he went to his place. Oh, wait!" Jessie smacked her forehead. "I meant, I drove him to his place and then went home. Alone."
Emily nodded thoughtfully as if the answer had made sense. "Did you watch that home shopping channel? I have to see those knives."
"It was a great set of knives. I'll get them for you when you graduate med school, how's that?"
"Deal."
Jessie could barely contain her excitement. Emily and Max! She was going to have to dig deeper, though closed-lipped Emily would be a tough nut to crack.
Nut. Heh.
To keep the impure thoughts at bay, Jessie spent the rest of the afternoon making cherry cordials and washing the bakery windows. Fortunately, she wasn't doing a good job with the windows. If she had been, she might not have noticed George Dinardo walking toward the bakery. She was out the door in two seconds flat. "Hi, Mr. Dinardo!" She waved eagerly.
Jessie knew that look. She'd seen it often. It was a special blend of confusion and desire to not look confused. Mr. Dinardo lifted his hand and gave a guarded smile. "Why, hello."
He has no idea who I am. "I'm Jessie Mallory. Hank Mallory's niece."
Recognition crossed his face. "Oh, yes. Sorry, I must've had the sun in my eyes. I couldn't see your face at first."
"That's all right. Are you going somewhere? You look like you're busy."
"I was heading to the bookstore."
She folded her hands demurely. "Do you have a few minutes? I wanted to talk to you about the space you have for rent."
He agreed and followed her back into Hedda's. Had she been thinking, Jessie's heart would have been in her throat. This was her one chance to make an impression. Screw that up, and her dreams of opening "Chocolate Crush" were as good as ended. Fortunately, Jessie had put her brain on neutral and started coasting. The words came effortlessly.
"I have a line of chocolates that I'd like you to try," she said, and rounded the chocolate display case to the back. "Which do you prefer, milk chocolate or dark?"
"Milk, please."
Jessie lifted a shiny white confectioner's box, added a pink and white polka-dotted sheet of tissue paper, and began adding chocolates. She chose a few of her favorites: a creamy hazelnut crème truffle, a sea salted caramel, rocky road bark, and toasted coconut squares. "I make them right here, all by hand."
Mr. Dinardo took a small bite of the coconut square and chewed it thoughtfully. "Delicious. The chocolate is wonderful."
"Isn't it? It took me ages to select the right chocolate, but it was worth it. Here, I'll show you how I made those."
As he sampled the sweets, Jessie took him on a tour of the kitchen, showing him the molds and the cooling racks, and how she tempered the chocolate bars to keep them at the right consistency. "I make everything the old-fashioned way," she explained. "I use these marble slabs to make toffee."
Mr. Dinardo glanced around the kitchen. "You don't have a lot of room back here."
Jessie took a breath. "Well, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."
She explained that she was looking for a storefront, a small place to set up her own shop and expand. She told him about her sales numbers and how her business was growing slowly but steadily. The more she talked,
the more he listened. He even nodded his head at the right times.
"So although I think I could afford to rent a space for the price you're asking," she said, "the size of the space will be the determining factor."
Mr. Dinardo took another bite of the hazelnut crème truffle and chewed slowly. "Are you asking me to divide the deli space?"
Don't look like you're begging! She calmly nodded her head. "I would love to wall off a small section of the space, maybe at the corner so I have more window room. I've considered the layout, and I really think that it can be done in a way that won't hurt your ability to rent the remaining space. Here, I'll show you."
Jessie grabbed a pen and a small pad of paper and rendered the deli in a series of slash marks and cross-hatches. "See, if you place the wall here, then that gives access to a portion of the kitchen but leaves a larger section open."
He peered over her shoulder. "But won't you need more kitchen space than that?"
"I'd extend the kitchen out to about here," she said. "What I need is some additional work space, but I wouldn't be bringing large equipment." She smiled. "It's just me."
Mr. Dinardo lifted the drawing gently from her hands and pulled a pen out of his pocket. He set to work making calculations as to the remaining square footage. "I wouldn't even consider this if we hadn't had so much feedback about the space being difficult," he said. "It's not quite right for a restaurant or office space, and it's too large for the average store that would locate in the center of Archer Cove."
She waited breathlessly as he studied the drawing, turning it in his hands to study it from different angles. Finally, he said, "Your chocolate is delicious."
He stopped. No! Jessie bit her lower lip and waited for him to deliver the bad news.
"I'd love to have you in that space."
Wait...what? Mr. Dinardo clicked the pen closed and put it back into his pocket. Jessie felt light-headed. "What's the condition?"
He paused. "The what?"
"The condition. You said you'd love to have me in that space. But what's the condition?"
Mr. Dinardo looked puzzled. "You'd have to pay rent, of course."
Jessie clapped her hands across her mouth. "That's all? I'd have to pay rent? Nothing else?"
"You'd be responsible for construction costs."
She nodded quickly. "Yes, I've applied for a loan to cover all of that. I just can't — this is unbelievable!"
She'd done it. She'd actually done it! George Dinardo was going to divide the space, and she was going to have a storefront with a pink and white polka-dot awning and scrolling letters on the windows. All because she had sold him on the idea.
"Mr. Dinardo, I could kiss you right now."
He laughed and held up a hand. "That's fine. We'll seal the deal the old-fashioned way and write up a contract."
"Is there anything I can do to say thank you?" She looked at the almost-empty box in his hands. "How about a larger box of chocolates for the family?"
He smiled. "My wife would love that. She'll be so happy to hear that a chocolate shop is coming to Archer Cove. She has a sweet tooth."
"Well, we'll have to send you home with a lot of sweets, then."
By the time George Dinardo left, it was time to lock up. Jessie stayed to bake for a while and then left for home. She decided on the way that she wasn't going to breathe a word about her business until that loan came through. The agreement with Mr. Dinardo wasn't final until she had the money she needed to invest, and there was no sense getting too excited just yet — she was overstimulated as it was.
Her stomach was filled with pins and prickles — over her business and over Nate. Just a few weeks ago when Quinn had dumped her, she'd felt stunned. Humiliated. Now she felt hopeful. Life was full of wonderful possibilities. It made her want to write poetry. Instead, she texted Nate.
Are you coming over later?
His response came almost instantly: I hope that's an invitation. Be there at 6.
Jessie didn't care that she was walking down the busy street, smiling at her cell phone like a woman possessed. Life was her favorite!
She stopped at the market and picked up a few ingredients for dinner before heading home. Then she took a long, hot bath and prepared a simple dinner for two: baked salmon with a honey mustard glaze, baked sweet potatoes, and a kale salad. Nate knocked on the door just as she was lighting a little tea candle she'd found mixed in with her Tupperware.
"You don't have to knock," she said as she swung open the door. "I let people who sleep with me just walk in —"
He stepped inside and pulled her against his chest, silencing her with a kiss that stole her breath. Then he pulled back to say, "I missed you all day long."
"I missed you, too." She sighed. His lips tickled her cheek and sent a shiver down her spine. "I made dinner."
"Perfect." He grinned wickedly and closed the door behind him with his foot. "I'll take care of dessert."
Chapter 14
By the end of three weeks, Nate was practically living in the cottage. Jessie figured it was fair enough since he owned it. As a bonus, he refused to collect rent. "It's the perk of sleeping with the landlord," he explained. She'd take it.
There were other perks, too. Like having a person to talk to in the morning instead of Prince Travis, and having someone to curl up against at night. She was learning that Nate sometimes took too long in the shower, and at night he pulled the covers to his side. But he also gave great back rubs, so she could forgive him.
They still woke early in the mornings to run, and with the Sweet Relief 5K only two weeks away, Jessie was amazed that she could run for twenty minutes straight. She was even more amazed that she enjoyed running. On the rest days, her legs felt twitchy and restless. "I hope you're happy," she said one night as they cleared the dinner plates. "You've turned me into a damn runner."
Nate froze, a mock stunned expression on his face. "Jessica Mallory, other than first agreeing to have sex with me, that may be the best thing you've ever said." She'd thrown a dishtowel at him.
Mostly, Jessie walked around thinking that she was happier than she'd ever remembered being. She felt like she was wrapped in a soft blanket and then bubble wrapped for added warmth and protection from the elements. Yes, being with Nate felt like wearing rain boots; she still had some bad days, but they didn't penetrate in the same way.
Then there came the afternoon that she went out during her break to hang flyers advertising the "Sweet Relief 5K." She turned out of Hedda's Bakery and nearly ran smack-dab into Quinn. "Whoa!" he said, and grabbed her by the arms before she struck him. "Careful there!"
He was business casual in a pair of chinos and a red polo shirt, and he was wearing the same cologne he always wore. Jessie's hands flew to her heart, which was scampering like a bunny in her chest. She dropped the flyers across the sidewalk. "Sorry! I wasn't looking!"
"I'll say." But he was amused, not angry. He released her arms. "Are you all right?"
"Fine." She fell to her knees and gathered the flyers, which were already starting to blow down the street.
"Here, let me help you."
Between the two of them, they managed to collect all of the flyers before she lost them to the wind or to someone's careless footstep. Jessie clasped them in her arms. They were disordered, but at least they were still intact. "Thank you," she said.
"No problem. It was my fault, really." Quinn rose to his feet. "I was just going to grab some lunch, but I hadn't decided on where yet." He looked at the bakery.
It was all nonsense, of course. Hedda's was the best lunch place in a three-block radius, and Quinn knew that. And of course he knew that she'd be working there. It was almost as if he'd stopped by just to see her. Jessie's palms grew damp.
She'd lost track of how many weeks it had been since she'd last seen Quinn, and of course she was in a different place at the moment. A better place. So why did bumping into her ex-boyfriend feel like getting jolted with a cattle prod?
She
lifted her shoulders in a way that she hoped signaled her complete disinterest. "Well, we have lunch here. I'm heading out for a walk, but Emily can help you."
Her casual words belied her swirling emotions, some of which threatened to bubble to the surface if they stood there much longer.
Quinn made no effort to hide his scrutiny of her. "You look good, Jess."
"I feel good," she said, not bothering to add that at that particular moment, she wasn't feeling so hot. "Nate and I have been running together. He's planning a 5K. You should run it." She handed him a flyer.
He chuckled at that and held the flyer by the corner, as if it was dirty. "I don't know about that. We'll see."
"Suit yourself. Enjoy your lunch."
She turned on her heel and managed to take one step before he grabbed her by the elbow and said, "Wait. I haven't seen you in a while. Do you want to grab lunch?"
"I already ate." She pulled her arm out of his grip, trying to be polite about it.
"Well." He stepped closer and put his hands in his pockets, giving her a grin. "Maybe I can help you with the flyers?"
No, she was sure she didn't need help with that. "You should get your lunch. I'm going to go — hey!"
Quinn grabbed a few flyers off the top of her stack and headed for the nearest utility pole. "Do you have tacks, or...wait, here's one." He pulled an old gold tack out of the wood and used it to hang the flyer." See? I can help."
Jessie's jaw tightened, and a plume of anger burst in her chest. "I didn't mean you weren't able to help. I meant that I didn't want your help."
She reached for the flyers in his hand, but he pulled them away and headed for the next pole. "Come on. I'll help you, and we'll get these hung in no time."
She watched him as he located an old tack on the next pole and hung the next flyer. But he hung it in an awkward location where it wouldn't get much visibility. Jessie's feet pounded on the cement as she went over to undo the damage. "You're doing it all wrong. Just let me —"
A Sweet Possibility (Archer Cove Series Book 2) Page 16