“Nope. She had blond hair.”
“How old was she?”
The boy shrugged and crumpled the unused napkin in his hand. “Twenty? Maybe younger. Probably older, though. People think I look eight, but I turned eleven last month.”
Lori rocked back on her heels. Great. A wasted chocolate out of her paycheck, and still no information other than the gift was delivered by someone who could fit the description of almost half the women in the city. “All right. Thanks anyway.”
“Thanks for the chocolate, lady.” He grinned, showing caramel stains on his teeth.
“Consider it a late birthday gift.” Lori waited until the kid left before fingering the red ribbon around the box. Why didn’t her admirer just mail the box? Maybe it contained something expensive, something they wanted to be sure arrived safely.
So they entrusted it to an eleven-year-old boy?
Lori shook her head. Only way to find out was to open it. She could do that now, then confront Monny about the gift when he returned from his break. He had to be her secret admirer—there were no other options. After sleeping on her emotional thoughts from last night’s service, Lori decided that Mr. Good Enough wasn’t good enough after all, and she’d rather be alone than lead someone on. Heartbreak, she knew from experience, wasn’t fun for anyone. She would have to be gentle.
Lori’s stomach fluttered in anticipation as she slid the bow off the package and ripped open the cardboard flaps. She rummaged through the piles of packing paper, fingers eagerly searching. Just because she might have to return the gifts after Monny confessed his love didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the process. Her hand hit something soft. With an expectant grin, Lori tugged the item free of the gift wrap.
A stuffed Hershey’s Kiss.
A quick look inside the box confirmed there were a handful of the real chocolate pieces nestled in among the colored tissue—nothing more. A confused frown nestled between Lori’s brows. They worked in an upscale chocolate boutique in the French Quarter, and Manny had sent candy she could have gotten from Wal-Mart? Granted, it was her favorite, but she expected more from someone who made exquisite chocolate every day.
Clutching the little stuffed toy in both hands, Lori turned with determination toward the kitchen. She’d have to help Monny out. Even if she wasn’t interested in dating the handsome Italian, she could at least help him with a few pointers for his next love interest.
It was the least she could do after breaking his heart.
Andy strolled toward the Chocolate Gator, anticipation building in his stomach—and it wasn’t about the chocolates he’d soon be consuming. No, in just a few minutes, he’d see Lori face-to-face, and she’d thank him for the gift he’d sent.
He picked up his step and whistled a little tune. A street artist nodded in greeting as he passed, and Andy paused long enough to toss a quarter into the open guitar case of a performing musician. He couldn’t be happier—his idea was genius. After seeing the Hershey’s Kisses, Lori would have to put two and two together and realize he was her admirer. After all, he was the one who kept the bowl of Kisses on his desk at work, the bowl she visited frequently. Who else supplied her with a constant stream of chocolate at the church? Plus, the gift was cute—borderline corny. Subtle, and yet obvious at the same time. In other words, perfect.
His breath tightened as he walked. Only two more store-fronts and he’d be under the Chocolate Gator’s pink-and-black-striped awning. Andy’s stomach swished with nerves, and he paused to check his hair in the reflection of a store window. He really should get it cut, but he looked so young with his forehead showing. He swiped at a stubborn cowlick with his fingers.
Andy’s cell rang, and his heart jumped like an old man caught dozing during church. Maybe it was Lori, calling to tell him she’d figured out his secret identity. With a smile, he flipped open the cell. “I was just heading to see you—”
“You’ll have an awfully long swim if you do.” The familiar deep voice of his friend Carter chuckled through the line.
“Carter!” Andy dropped onto a nearby bench. Andy’s musician best friend had recently married Lori’s friend Gracie. Andy liked to think he had a little something to do with the perfect match. After all, he and Carter were college roommates and Gracie had been a part of Andy’s church long before Carter showed back up in her life. Andy grinned. “How’s the sun and sand?”
“Both are pretty hot.” A female voice chimed in on Carter’s end of the line, and he laughed. “And so is my new wife, of course.”
Andy snorted. “Don’t make me hang up on you. Haven’t ya’ll had enough alone time yet?”
“Never. Marriage is the best, man. I highly recommend it.”
“So does Pastor Mike.” Andy quickly filled Carter in on what had transpired over the last week.
“Wow, no pressure, huh?” Carter clucked his tongue. “So who’s the unlucky girl?”
“Funny.”
“You know I’ve got to give you a hard time. You gave me enough flak about Gracie.”
“How about some helpful advice? You can tease me after the wedding.”
“Deal.” Carter paused. “Wedding? So there is a girl?”
Andy immediately sobered. If he told Carter whom he had in mind, Gracie would know minutes after. Gracie was Lori’s best friend. Her knowing Andy’s feelings toward Lori would possibly help—or seriously hurt if she didn’t approve. He swallowed. “Someone you know pretty well.”
“Just spit it out, man. We’re about to go on a glass-bottom boat ride.” He whispered something to Gracie about tickets, then stopped short. “You didn’t finally come to your senses about Lori, did you?”
Andy opened his mouth, then closed it. Had he been that obvious to everyone but himself in the last year or two?
“It’s Lori, isn’t it? She’s the one!” Andy couldn’t tell if Carter’s voice held excitement or shock. Maybe both. He stood and began to pace the sidewalk, narrowly dodging a little boy on a skateboard. That would make sense—it was exactly how Andy felt, too.
“Hold on. Gracie wants to talk to you.”
Andy’s stomach rolled, and he gripped the cell tighter in his sweaty palm.
“Andy? Are you serious?” Gracie’s melodic voice traveled from the Gulf as clearly as if she sat beside him. “You’re interested in Lori?”
“Yes?” It came out more like a question, and he cleared his throat. “I mean, yes. I am.”
She squealed so loudly he jerked the phone away from his ear, heart pounding louder than the guy playing the bongo drums on the corner. “It’s about time!”
He dropped back onto the empty bench and exhaled. “Thanks, I think.”
“How was your first date? I can’t believe she hasn’t called me!”
“There actually hasn’t been one.”
A pause hovered over the line. “She doesn’t know how you feel, does she?”
“Not yet.” He told her about the gifts he’d sent. “I was just on my way to see her at the shop, and I bet she’ll have it figured out by the time I get there.”
“Because of a Hershey’s Kiss?” Gracie laughed. “Andy, it’s a sweet thought, but Lori begs, borrows or buys chocolate from a dozen different people and places. I think you’re going to have to be more obvious if you want to be discovered. Although it’s pretty silly to keep up this secret-admirer facade in the first place, if you ask me.”
“You don’t think I should do it?”
“I just think you should give Lori a fair shot at accepting you for who you are. You might be surprised.”
“Has she said something about me before?” Andy leaned forward and braced his elbows against his knees. The same skateboarding kid rolled back by, the wheels scraping loudly on the concrete. Andy turned his head to better hear Gracie’s answer, anticipation hovering like a little child around a beignet.
“Well, no. Not exactly. But why the secrecy?”
Andy opened his mouth to explain, but Carter’s muffled voice on th
e other end of the line interrupted. “Gracie, we’re going to miss the tour if we don’t leave now.”
A scuffling sounded, as if Gracie had clamped her hand over the receiver. “Just a second, this is important.” She returned to the phone. “Andy, we’ve got to go. Listen, just take it slowly, but don’t be afraid to tell her what’s in your heart, okay?”
“Okay.” He said goodbye and disconnected the call. His agreement to Gracie’s suggestion still lingered on his lips, but its meaning didn’t settle in his gut. He knew what he was doing. There was no way Lori would be responsive to his stating right out that he had feelings for her. She’d be shocked—and not in a good way. They’d been close friends for so long now she’d probably never thought of him as anything other than her best friend. Even if Lori was mistaking Monny as her secret admirer, he had to keep it up a while longer and ease her into the concept of Andy being boyfriend material.
Make that husband material.
Lori slid a tray of chocolate-dipped marshmallows into the display case. She’d already popped a few into her mouth—taste-testing for the customer’s sake, of course—and now she wanted to eat the whole pan. She needed fortification if she intended to confront Monny about being her secret admirer. She’d tried earlier in the afternoon, but he’d been intensely focused on icing a special-order cake, and she hadn’t wanted to distract him. That’d just be one more thing she would mess up.
The bell tinkled, and Andy strolled inside. Lori’s eyes widened. She couldn’t talk to Monny about the gifts in front of Andy—Monny would be mortified when she turned him down. She had to get rid of Andy.
“Hey, there.” She forced a smile as Andy approached the counter. Any other time she’d be glad to see her friend, but right now, all she could think about was getting the misunderstanding with Monny cleared up before he did something embarrassing—like confess his love in that smooth accent for all the store to hear.
“Hi. Just thought I’d drop by and see how things were going.” Andy tapped the glass with his palms as he studied the contents of the display.
“They’re going fine.” Lori frowned, thoughts of her secret-admirer situation suddenly far away. “Why wouldn’t they be?” Surely Andy wasn’t dropping in to check on her again, was he? She was perfectly capable of running this store without him.
Well, mostly.
“I’m sure they are. I just had to ask. I mean, wanted to ask.” Andy shook his head, and his hair flopped in his eyes.
“Well, the store is going great. So, how can I help you?” Lori straightened her shoulders and turned on her most professional voice. Andy needed to leave now—before she lost her chance to confront Monny, and before Andy angered her further with his lack of trust. Why did he even refer her to Bella if he didn’t trust her to be a good manager?
Andy’s eyes flickered with hurt at the dismissal. “Um, I guess two of the chocolate crocodiles should do it.”
Lori quickly bagged his order and rang it up on the register. “Three dollars and seventy-five cents.”
Andy slipped her a five-dollar bill. “Keep the change.” His smile didn’t quite meet his eyes this time, and Lori pushed back a wave of guilt. It was Andy’s own fault for coming in here and checking up on her like he owned the place.
“See you later.” Lori offered a little wave as she shut the register drawer. Hurry up, before Monny gets involved in another cake. Her opportunity was slipping, and Lori didn’t know how much longer she could work with Monny without setting things straight between them.
Andy finally headed toward the door, devoid of his usual spark. “Right. See you.” The door chimed on his way out, and Lori breathed a sigh of relief. One disaster averted.
But now Summer sat perched on her stool with her usual magazine, offering zero privacy for Lori and Monny’s pending conversation.
“Summer, will you take out the trash, please? The can by the door is full.” Lori glanced over her shoulder. “Summer? Summer!”
The younger girl jerked her iPod earphones to her neck and blinked twice. “You don’t have to shout.”
“The trash.” Lori closed her eyes briefly and then pointed toward the can. “Please.” She waited until Summer was occupied with the rustling garbage bag, then peeked through the window of the kitchen door. Monny had finished the cake and was dumping dirty pots in the industrial-size sink.
“Summer, why don’t you go load the dishwasher next? And while you’re back there, please ask Monny to come out here.” Perfect. Now she could have Monny’s undivided attention, and Summer would be occupied—and productive.
Without a word, Summer tucked the edges of the new garbage bag around the wastebasket and disappeared through the swinging door. Lori ran her fingers through her hair and straightened her pink top. Not that it really mattered. Monny apparently liked her the way she was, or he wouldn’t have started sending her gifts—again, not that it mattered. Tempting as it was to date Monny to avoid being alone, she couldn’t do that to her heart. She and Monny had to stay just friends, even if he was infatuated with her.
Monny stepped through the kitchen doorway. “Yes, mi cara? You wanted to see me?” He stopped in front of her, close enough she could smell the strawberry crème dotting his apron.
“I just…I…” The words dangled off her lips, teasing them both. He looked so sweet standing there with a smile, calling her “my dear,” that she almost couldn’t bring herself to say anything. She coughed and tried again. “I wanted to say thank you.”
“Prego. But for what?”
“For the gifts.” Lori gestured toward the flower bouquet. The petals were starting to dry and brown, but the overall arrangement still brightened the counter display.
Monny’s dark eyebrows meshed into one, and he shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re my secret admirer. I’m sorry that I figured it out so fast. You might not have been ready.” Lori took a deep breath and offered what she hoped came across as a compassionate smile. “But I’m not ready, either. To date, that is. I appreciate the gifts, but a relationship just isn’t smart. We’re coworkers, and we should keep things professional.” Not to mention I’m in love with someone else.
There. Now the truth was out in the open, dancing in the space between them just like the dust particles waltzing their way through the sunbeams on the shop floor. Relief drooped Lori’s shoulders. She’d done it, taken the high road, despite the fact that she had no prospects for Valentine’s Day or the future beyond and no hopes of acquiring any.
Monny edged away from her, both hands held up in a defensive gesture. “I’m sorry, mi cara, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lori stepped forward. “Of course you do. The flowers and the chocolate Kisses. I really appreciate the gifts, but—”
“I did not send them.” Monny shrugged one shoulder and grinned. “I have a fiancée back home in Italy.”
Chapter Seven
Lori sat in the darkened shop at the counter, heels tucked against the top rung of the stool, listlessly fingering her wilting bouquet. The flowers drooped as if sensing her feelings of rejection, their petals browning around the edges in sympathy as her dreams for the future withered.
She’d never been so embarrassed in her life. Not even when she tripped in new high heels and sprawled across the stage at the church a few months back. Or even that time she spilled gumbo down the front of a paying customer at the fundraiser last year for the aquarium. No, this was worse—complete and utter humiliation.
I have a fiancée. Monny’s words churned over and over in her mind like mixer beaters set on high speed. How many shades of red had she turned? He must think she was a moron. A moron who couldn’t bake, a moron who could barely handle managing a store that should practically run itself, and even worse—a moron who was so desperate for love she imagined attention from engaged coworkers.
With a groan, Lori dropped her forehead to her hands. How could she face Monny tomorrow? Suddenly his departure
to Italy couldn’t come fast enough.
Her pro/con list wrinkled under her elbows, and she lifted her eyes enough to peer at the paper she’d prepared a few days prior. Pros for her secret admirer being Monny filled the left side of the sheet, a few lines down. Entries included It would be nice to be taken on a date now and then and Someone is better than no one. Cons for the same took up many lines more on the right side. Long-distance relationships are hard. And most importantly—He’s not Andy.
She should add one more item to the con column: He’s not interested.
A scuffling noise sounded behind her, and Lori jerked. She’d already locked up the store. Had someone broken in? She whirled around on the stool just in time to see Summer flicking on the light switch.
“Summer! What are you doing here?” Lori pressed one hand to the heart threatening to burst through her thin purple sweater.
“I work here.” Summer arched a pierced eyebrow. “Remember?”
“I meant after hours. Do you have a key?”
“The kitchen door was unlocked.”
Lori briefly closed her eyes. Monny must have forgotten to lock it after he left for the night. No wonder—he probably ran out as fast as he could. And to think she started the conversation with the intention of rejecting him.
“I left my iPod.” Summer moved to the counter beside Lori and picked up the shiny silver player from under the register. “Besides, the better question is, why are you sitting here in the dark?” She did a double take at Lori’s tearstained face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Lori wiped her eyes and winced at the mascara darkening her fingertips. Great. She probably looked as silly as she felt.
“Right—and I’m the next Rachael Ray.” Summer rolled her eyes. “Listen, if you don’t want to talk, whatever. But don’t lie.” She waited a beat. “I’m really tired of liars.”
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