"I'm a senior associate at Emerson & Palmer. I close multimillion-dollar deals. You don't think I know how to hang flyers?"
"No, I don't." It took some effort to remove the tack, which he'd driven deep into the wood. Jessie picked at it with her nail, but it wouldn't budge. "Damn it, Quinn. No one's going to see this now."
He laughed, but it sounded dry and ugly, and it made her feel two feet tall. "How many flyers do you have here, fifty? I'm sure people will see at least one of them." He looked down at them for the first time. "Sweet Relief, huh? Sponsored by The Chocolate Crush? What's that?"
"It's my new business." She reached for the flyers in his hand, and once again he pulled them out of her reach. "Give those to me."
"You're starting a business now?" He smiled. "That's really adorable. I want to hear more about it. Let me guess: it involves polka dots, doesn't it?"
Since when was he such a condescending prick? Jessie's cheeks burned with rage, and the corners of her eyes started to prickle. Damn it, she didn't want to cry. Not in front of Quinn. But she couldn't get control of her anger at the moment. She couldn't talk, either. Her throat was clogged by emotion.
"I'm proud of you." Quinn's voice was slightly mocking as he wandered over to the next utility pole and searched for a tack. "I am. I didn't think you had it in you. But I guess I'll have to see it to believe it, right? I mean, leaving your Uncle Hank and the comfort of Hedda's, actually taking a leap." He shook his head. "I guess I'll be watching."
He looked at her and flashed a smug grin. All of the hurt, shame, and anger that Jessie thought she'd been managing so well flipped off something in her brain. The next thing she knew, she was nearly on top of him, tugging the flyers out of his hand. Her flyers. "Stop it!" she shouted. "Stop it! Stop it!"
"What, you want these?" He crinkled the flyers in his fist before flinging them on the sidewalk. "There. Happy?"
She picked them off the ground, but they were hopelessly wrinkled and torn. Still, Jessie smoothed them as best she could, hating the way her chin trembled. "What is it with you?" she hissed. "You can't handle being rejected? I don't want to hang flyers with you, so you try to ruin my day?"
He sneered down at her. "I don't get rejected, sweetheart. Not by you."
The barb stung, but she stood her ground and lifted her chin. "You're a small person, Quinn. Small people leave those around them feeling worse."
"Thanks for the psychobabble, Miss Chocolate Crush." He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I try to do something nice for you, and this is what I get."
"No, you didn't try to do something nice for me. Not at all." Her voice shook with the force of her emotion, and she felt like the world was rippling straight through her. "You don't do nice things for people. You don't think of anyone but yourself."
God help her, she was crying. She couldn't hold back the flood. But she also couldn't hold on to that hurt and anger forever. She swallowed the lump in her throat, but her voice still cracked. "I thought I cared about you, and all you did was treat me like garbage. I thought that was my fault, that I wasn't good enough. Now I understand that our relationship was never about me. It was always about you."
He looked around them while she talked, feigning boredom. "Like I said, whatever. You're obviously hormonal right now."
She bit her lip and took a deep breath. The tears had started to subside. She wasn't going to give him the pleasure of hurting her. "I wish you the best, Quinn, but please don't ever try to contact me again. And don't come to Hedda's. You're not welcome there."
She pressed the flyers to her chest and returned to the little bakery. It felt safer there, and she could always hang the flyers after work.
When Nate returned to the cottage, Jessie was curled up in sweatpants on the couch, reading a book. "Hey," he said as he closed the door behind him.
"Hey."
She looked up with a little smile. Her eyes — had she been crying? She looked tired. Nate looked around the kitchen. "Want me to make dinner?"
"I'm not really hungry tonight. I thought I'd do some reading and go to bed early."
He paused. "Is everything okay?"
She closed her paperback slowly and lifted her head. "Just a long day. Nothing to worry about."
Nate had always known that Jessie worked long hours. She was up before dawn, and after she left the bakery, she worked on her own chocolates at home. Of course, they'd been pulling some late nights together, too. He figured it was beginning to catch up with her. "You should get some sleep," he said, and walked over to kiss her on the forehead. "I'll get out of your way. I should go home and do some laundry."
She intertwined their fingers, keeping him close. "You don't have to go. I like having you here."
He brushed her hair back from her face. Man, she looked exhausted. "Then I'll leave for a few hours and be back later. But I hope you're sleeping by then."
She smiled faintly. "Will do."
It was fine, Nate thought as he headed out again. Quinn had been texting him that afternoon, so they could meet up for dinner. They hadn't seen each other in weeks. After a series of text messages, they agreed to meet at Meme's. By the time Nate arrived, Quinn was already seated.
"Hey man," Nate said as he pulled up a chair. "Good to see you."
"You too." But Quinn didn't look happy to see Nate at all. In fact, he looked pissed off about something. Jeez, was there something in the water? "Bad day?"
His friend only grunted in response. "The usual."
"What's new? I don't see you much these days. You must be busy with Caryn."
Quinn eased back in his chair and looked away. "Caryn's a bitch," he said.
"Huh." An evening alone folding laundry was beginning to look better and better. Nate reached for the menu. "Should we get the usual?"
A waiter came by and set a pint of beer in front of Quinn. "Anything for you, sir?"
"Just a water is fine," Nate said.
Quinn took a long sip and set the glass back on the table. "I'm swearing off women."
He leaned forward and tapped Quinn's glass. "You know, you may want to think about swearing off this stuff, too. Not that I don't love getting drunk phone calls at one in the morning."
"Piss off. It's my first drink." Quinn eyed him sidelong. "What's going on?"
"With what?"
"With you. You look happy about something, and I want to know what it is."
Nate and Jessie hadn't told anyone about their relationship yet. Not that it was a secret. More like they didn't want to name it. They hadn't had The Talk. But it was gnawing at Nate, and things between him and Quinn were going to be awkward all night if he wasn't straight with him. Besides, it wasn't like Quinn would be upset. He and Jessie had barely dated, and they'd broken up almost six weeks ago.
"It's funny, actually," he said. "Jessie and I are starting to see each other."
Quinn's face showed no reaction. "See each other? What's that mean, you're sleeping together?"
There was an edge to his voice that Nate didn't like. "It's what I said. We're seeing each other. I wanted you to hear it from me first. I don't want things between us to be strange."
Quinn took another gulp of his beer. "Funny, 'cause she was all over my junk this afternoon."
Nate froze. "You saw each other? When?"
Damn, but he hated feeling like the jealous boyfriend all of a sudden. He wasn't that type. But Jessie and Quinn had a history, and she hadn't even mentioned seeing him.
"I was out at lunch and I ran into her," he said. "She was hanging flyers for that race you guys are doing. She asked me for my help."
Nate clenched his jaw as the image popped into his head: Quinn and Jessie hanging the race flyers together. "She didn't say anything to me."
His friend arched an eyebrow knowingly. "Yeah, well. It was nothing, so don't worry about it. I'm totally over it."
"And how was she?" He shouldn't have asked. He didn't want to know. It wasn't his business, and he trusted her. There was no reason
not to.
"How was she?" Quinn echoed as he thought about it. "Friendly, I guess. Flirty. You know how Jessie is. She was wearing a cute little skirt. She has great legs."
Nate's stomach had worked itself into a ball. He didn't feel like eating. He was sick of Quinn and the way he treated people. He was sick of feeling like he had to compete with him for Jessie's attention. He thought back to that night that he'd accused Jessie of making a lot of excuses for Quinn. Well, he was no better.
"You know what, man? I'm not feeling that great tonight." Nate pushed back his chair. "I think I'm going to go home."
Quinn looked surprised. "Why, because of what I said about Jessie? I told you, I'm not interested."
Nate stood. "Yeah, you're not interested. And you only said something about her to get at me, and to try to put me in my place. I've looked at you as my equal, but you seem to think you're better. Friends like that suck."
He turned and walked out of the restaurant, into the early evening air. He told himself that he couldn't listen to Quinn. He may have been a friend once, but he hadn't been for a while. He wasn't a person who could be trusted, and he'd only said those things about Jessie to get under Nate's skin. But damn if it didn't gnaw at him all night.
He went back to his apartment and ran two loads of laundry. By the time they were dry, he told himself he was too tired to head back to Jessie's. He crawled into bed and felt his bones sink into the mattress, weary from the day.
Chapter 15
J essie woke up alone. It took a moment to register. Then she sat bolt upright in bed and looked at the space beside her. Nate's part of the bed was still made. A thread of panic worked through her as she fumbled for her cell. Thank goodness — he'd sent a text: Fell asleep doing laundry.
She exhaled. No big deal.
She showered, dressed, and walked to Hedda's. The morning was overcast, but the meteorologist predicted sunshine. After a good night's sleep, Jessie felt like a new person. That morning, her affirmation was different: I am strong as hell. Because she was. She'd stood up to Quinn, and as bad as it had felt to say those things to him, it was cathartic. Her life was full of possibilities, and Quinn was no longer one of them. Life was sweeter.
Jessie whistled to herself as she baked lemon poppy seed muffins and cinnamon rolls. She hummed as she swept the floors and cleaned the glass on the display cases. She would've danced around the kitchen if Uncle Hank hadn't told her numerous times that it was a no-dance zone. Nate had fallen asleep while doing laundry. He hadn't left her.
She was at the counter when Mr. White came into the bakery, looking exactly as a loan officer should in his pale blue tie and white short-sleeved starched shirt. "Good morning, Mr. White," she said cheerfully. "What can I get for you?"
"I'm actually here to talk to you about your application," he said. "Is this a good time?"
Jessie's heart stopped in its tracks. She took a quick glance around the bakery. "We're in the morning lull, so it should be fine."
"Great. We can sit at one of these tables, and if you get busy, you can just go right back to work."
He selected a table by the window, the one Jessie thought of as the "lovers' table," because of its size and privacy. She pulled out the white wrought-iron chair and took a seat on the blue cushion. Her heart was going a mile a minute, but this had to be good, right? Loan officers didn't come to tell people their application had been rejected...did they?
Mr. White opened a brown leather briefcase and extracted a manila envelope. "I've got good news and bad news," he said. "Which would you like first?"
Jessie swallowed. "The good news. Definitely."
He paused. "I'll give you the bad news first. It makes more sense, logically."
"But I thought —"
"The bank has rejected your loan application," he said.
"Oh." Her hands covered her heart. There was that ache. "Oh." Again. It took her breath with it.
"I'm sorry," he said. "But the good news is that we will approve a loan for you in this amount." He slid the paperwork across the table. Then he sat back and folded his hands.
Jessie blinked. There were so many numbers. Her eyes drifted down the page, over the figures she'd supplied, her address...she saw it. A number, and a dollar sign. "This?" She pointed to it. "That's the number?"
"That's the one. And the interest rate is right there. What do you think?"
It wasn't exactly what she'd hoped for, but if she worked with Dinardo and was smart about reducing the size of the space and making renovations...A smile spread across her face. "I can do this," she whispered. "I can make it work. Oh my gosh, I'm opening my own chocolate shop!"
Mr. White smiled. "I've seen your race flyers around town. I had to stop in a few days ago to try some of your chocolates. They're delicious. You have a very bright future ahead of you."
She was beaming. She couldn't help herself. "This is wonderful news. I'm so happy!" Without a thought, she rose from her seat and flung her arms around him. "Thank you so much! You're changing my life, Mr. White!"
He laughed stiffly and patted her back. "All right. You're welcome. If this figure works, then I'll get the loan finalized and you can have a check as early as next week."
"That's incredible. I can't thank you enough. Wait!" She darted behind the display case and piled a large box with assorted chocolates. "Please take these back to the bank, with my thanks."
"Thank you, Ms. Mallory. Have a great day."
"I will."
She waited until he'd left the bakery to shriek. The customers turned to stare. "I'm opening a chocolate shop!"
Emily came running from behind the counter, and Uncle Hank came out from the kitchen. "What happened?" he asked.
Jessie ran over to embrace him. "I'm opening my own chocolate shop, Uncle Hank!"
Emily squealed and joined the hug. "That's fantastic!"
"I'm so proud of you, Jess!" Uncle Hank said. When she looked up, he had tears in his eyes. "I knew you could do it."
Jessie's head swirled with possibilities. "I'll need an awning, and I have to buy some more equipment, and maybe I'll look online for display cases..."
"This is going to be so great," Emily said. "You should be proud of yourself. This is what you've wanted for years."
And Jessie decided that she was proud. She was finally becoming herself.
The counters and shelving were gone in the deli space, so Nate signed the lease by pressing the contract against the window. He got a few letters in before the ink in the pen stopped flowing. He shook the pen and laughed. "Someone's trying to stop me."
"Nope, no one's stopping you," George Dinardo said. "It's all yours."
Claire stood by, a white handbag dangling from her folded arms. "This space is absolutely perfect," she gushed. "I'm going to get my contractors in here on Monday. We'll be up and running in no time flat."
It was all happening so fast that Nate felt light-headed. When George Dinardo had called and told him that he was thinking of splitting the space in half, Nate knew he had to act or lose his chance for good. For her part, Claire was eager to invest, and she'd even managed to talk down the price significantly by offering to sign a three-year lease.
"If I can only sign my name," he said. He knelt on one knee and balanced the contract on the other. "There we go. Much better."
"Excellent." George held out his hand. "I'll get copies of this to you in a few days. It's been a pleasure."
"Same here. Thanks, Mr. Dinardo."
Claire patted him on the back. "How's it feel? You've got a space and three years to make it work."
He set his hands on his waist. "It's gonna work, partner."
He had too many ideas to count. Equipment to purchase, training programs to test. There were hundreds of possibilities, all of them great. He couldn't wait to tell Jessie.
As upset as he'd been the night before, he'd felt better in the morning. Of course he could trust Jessie. The last role he wanted to play was that of a jealous boyfri
end. She deserved better than that. Quinn had only been pressing his buttons.
When he called her, it sounded like she'd had a great day, too. "I can't wait to talk to you!" she gushed.
Nate smiled. Her happiness was contagious. "Same here. See you at home at six?"
"I love that you called the cottage 'home.' See you then!"
He stopped to buy her a bouquet of pink and white sweetheart roses, feeling as shaky as a teenager on his first date. This was it. Tonight he was going to tell her how he felt, lay it all on the line. I love you. I've always loved you. He wondered if he'd be able to get the words out in the way he needed to: loud and clear, so there'd be no doubt. The last thing he wanted Jessie to feel was any doubt. She'd been hurt enough in her life. I'm yours for as long as you want me to be.
He was nearly giddy as he walked up the front path to the little blue cottage, the bouquet behind his back. Jessie swung open the front door, looking as beautiful as ever in a white dress with pink ribbon woven around the waist. He could tell she was bursting. "Hello, gorgeous." He brought out the flowers. "These are for you."
"They're beautiful! Thank you!" She kissed him on the lips and tightened a hand around his tie. "I missed you."
"I missed you too."
"Oh, I can't even stand it!" She stepped back and announced, "I'm opening a chocolate shop! I was approved for a loan today!"
"What?" Nate shook his head. "That's unbelievable! I mean, not unbelievable. It's completely believable because you're incredible. Sweetie, congratulations!" He pulled her into his arms.
"I'm so happy, Nate! It's like my life is finally coming together!" She stepped back and smelled the roses. "I'm going to find a vase. Come inside."
He watched her as she nearly skipped around the kitchen, looking through the cabinets. She found a white vase above the refrigerator. "I had no idea all of this was going on," he said. "You know how to keep a secret."
"A surprise." She beamed. "I didn't want to say anything until it was official, but I have a space and everything." She clapped her hands together. "I thought I was going to be afraid to make this change, but it feels so perfect. I know I'm ready for it."
A Sweet Possibility (Archer Cove Series Book 2) Page 17