Love, Laughter & Happily Ever After: A sweet romantic comedy collection

by Ellie Hall

  He blinked at me, then his eyes narrowed. “I’m sure I’ll love it.” He went back to work on his. “So tell me what it’s like to be super famous?”

  I snorted. “I’m not super famous. I’m famous enough to sell cookbooks, which is exactly the right kind of famous. I can move around New York without people recognizing me too often, and that’s how I like it.”

  “Do you like Manhattan?”

  “Love it. It’s hard not to.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  So I did, describing my favorite parts, from bookstores to lesser known parks, and hidden gems of cafés to the ethnic markets in Little Ethiopia and Chinatown where I went for inspiration.

  “You ever think about leaving?” he asked after a while.

  “No.” I knew he was hinting at what it would take for us to work long-term, and this was exactly the reason the backup plan would never happen. “My career is there. I couldn’t make it work anywhere else, and I don’t want to.” It sucked some of the fun out of the game, but I wasn’t going to make him a victim of assumption the way I had been during our last summer.

  “I like it too,” he said. “More than I thought I would.”

  “Have you been there much?”

  “Every month.” I glanced over at him in surprise. “I’m developing a project in Secaucus. I stay in the city though. I’ll have to try some of the places you mentioned.”

  Well, that was a rather large bomb to drop and then keep tying knots as if nothing had happened. “You’re in New York every month?”

  “I am.”

  I paused in my bracelet-making, trying to process that.

  “Come here. I want to show you something.” He rose and walked to the corner of the table, the one farthest from us and pointed down to some faded Sharpie letters in the corner. “Can you read that?”

  TW+AR.

  Tabitha Winters + Adam Reed.

  “I wrote it forever ago. Summer two, I think. I couldn’t believe it when I found it during renovations.” He dug a Sharpie from his back pocket. “I’ve been waiting to update this. This feels like the right time.” He bent down and added something beneath the initials. “There. Better.”

  I leaned forward. Now it read, TW+AR For Real.

  “Adam…”

  “Wait.” He went to his spot on the bench and pulled the tape holding his bracelet loose with a soft snckkk then came back with his finished friendship bracelet. He gently picked up my wrist and tied the navy and yellow bracelet around it.

  “I’m not dumb enough to think we’re going to figure this out in a single week. I only want to convince you that you should give me a chance. However long it takes.”

  I looked down at the friendship bracelet, the neat rows he’d learned to tie so he could impress me. “It’s hard to wrap my mind around flying back to New York on Sunday and bringing this part of my past into my present.”

  His finger feathered over the bracelet, grazing the skin beneath. “I’m so glad to hear you say that,” he said quietly.

  “You are?” That wasn’t the answer I’d expected.

  “Yes. Because it means you’re finally getting that I mean it. That the stakes are real here. That the game doesn’t end when the weekend does.” He lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against my palm. My legs nearly buckled. “That this isn’t a game.”

  I drew a deep, unsteady breath. “I need time to think about this. Maybe I should head back to my place.”

  He let my hand go and nodded. “Can I walk you back?”

  “Yeah. Yes. That would be good.” The walk through the woods was quiet. When it ended at the clearing, he stayed on the trail as I stepped out.

  “I know tomorrow is busy with the opening gala,” he said, “and I’ll stay out of your way. But date three is Saturday. I was thinking the old dock. A sunrise picnic.”

  There was no mistaking the message there.

  “Good luck tomorrow,” he said, stepping forward to drop a soft kiss on my hair. “It’s going to be amazing because you’re amazing.” Then he disappeared back into the woods, leaving me to stare after him.

  Adam had picked a sunrise picnic at the dock because he wanted a do-over.

  But did I?

  13

  I rose early and threw on my kitchen togs. I had lots of thinking to do, and there was nowhere better for me to do it than with a knife in my hand.

  Lisa was in the mess hall already, of course.

  “Hey, lady,” I said. “You ever want a job in New York, come find me. Any kitchen would be lucky to have you. You ready to do this?”

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  The gala dinner theme I’d chosen was “Campfire Deconstructed,” polished versions of summer camp classics. The trusty foil dinner of ground beef, green beans, and corn would become a filet mignon—portobello mushroom for our vegetarians—with rosemary fondant potatoes, sweet corn tamale cakes, and nut-roasted green beans. I’d translated s’mores into a decadent chocolate cheesecake on a graham cracker crust topped with chocolate ganache and finished with toasted housemade marshmallows.

  I spent the morning prepping the graham cracker crusts for the eight cheesecakes we were baking—enough to feed our guests plus the counselors later.

  The whole time I worked, I replayed the last three days with Adam in my mind. From the minute he’d announced his intention to collect on our deal to the friendship bracelet on my wrist, I turned over every look, every word, every touch.

  Until this afternoon, his request to give “us” another shot had seemed like a joke. I’d thought it would be a fun way to do a little flirting, make him even sorrier for dumping me that summer, and then we’d go back to our own separate, real lives. I’d have an apology and closure, and that chapter would be done forever.

  But Adam was offering more of a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure option here, one where we went back to a different point in the book, made a different choice, and lived a new story, possibly with a new ending.

  Did I want that?

  The idea of seeing Adam in New York, of taking him to my favorite places…part of me loved the idea of walking the Highline with him and showing him the thriving greenspace that had filled in an abandoned elevated train track. Or wandering Chelsea Market with him, sampling new flavors on a Saturday afternoon.

  I wasn’t sure Adam had any place in my present, and it didn’t feel possible to decide that here, with the past pulling on me so strongly. I could agree to reconnect in New York the next time he was out on business, but was it fair to do that if he didn’t have a shot? Was I ready to see if our chemistry transcended this time and place?

  At five-thirty, Lisa ordered me home to get ready. I’d still be overseeing the dinner service, but instead of my usual comfy kitchen clothes beneath my smock, I’d be wearing a dress so I could look decent when Ben brought me out to introduce me to the dinner guests.

  Finally, at six o’clock, I rushed back to the kitchen and the mad dash began. I loved this part of every dinner service, the moment where I could feel the energy kick up a notch in preparation for the incoming diners. I wanted to treat Ben and Natalie to the most delicious dinner of their lives so they could see how far I’d come since the days when I’d cooked camp dinners back here on ancient appliances.

  And Adam. It mattered to me what he thought.

  The muted voices coming through the swinging kitchen doors grew louder as more guests arrived, and at seven o’clock, I heard Ben’s voice on the mess hall PA system welcoming everyone to this dinner with a menu designed and overseen by Camp Oak Crest graduate and celebrity chef Tabitha Winters.

  I grinned at Lisa as I slid the first plated sweet corn tamale cake onto a tray. “Let’s go.” She grinned back, and we were off, darting around the kitchen for the next hour as we sent out the appetizers and then the dinners. The counselors doubling as servers brought back compliments as they flitted in and out from the dining room, and finally, as the energy in the kitchen simmered down, Natalie hers
elf popped her head back.

  “I know you’ll be sending out dessert soon. We’d like to bring you out with it. Ten minutes enough time?”

  I nodded. “Plenty.”

  “All right, listen for Ben to call your name, and we’ll have you come through the doors followed by the dessert trays.”

  “Got it.” The servers were already filling the rolling carts with desserts, so I slipped into the broom closet and shrugged off my chef smock, then traded my kitchen Crocs for the sexy red heels I’d brought. I was more glad than ever I’d packed them even though I’d dithered in New York over whether they were too much for a night like this. But I loved an excuse to go a little glam, and since I’d had to keep the rest of my outfit simple—a black sheath dress under my smock, my hair in a low bun beneath my chef’s toque—the four-inch strappy sandals were a gorgeous counterpoint.

  I walked to the head of the queuing servers and listened at the door until I heard, “We’d love to bring out one of Camp Oak Crest’s most illustrious alums, Chef Tabitha Winters!”

  I stepped through the doors to the applause of the seventy-five guests and smiled and waved as I made my way to the front of the mess hall. Natalie had been hard at work all day overseeing its transformation into a high-end venue with tulle and twinkle lights and wildflowers, and I joined Ben at the mic with a smile. “Let her know how much you’ve enjoyed your first meal at Camp Oak Crest so far!” Ben ordered into the mic, and the applause swelled again.

  “Thank you, guys,” I said, using the “settle down” gesture with my hands after several seconds. “Our counselors are bringing you our reimagined s’mores cheesecake with a chocolate ganache and housemade marshmallows. Part of the reason I know how to pull off a dinner like this is because of the opportunities I got as a camper, then counselor here at Camp Oak Crest. Your kids are going to thrive under the care and leadership of Ben and Natalie Hawthorne, and we thank you for the generous donations that will allow even more kids to experience the magic that these two incredible people are making here. Please enjoy your desserts!”

  I stepped away from the mic to accept a hug from Natalie who escorted me to a seat next to her at the head table, where I ended up with Adam on my other side.

  “Hey,” he said, as I settled into my seat. “Dinner was incredible.”

  “Thanks.” The compliment made my cheeks feel as warm as they had when I was standing over the gas range searing the steaks. A counselor set a slice of dessert in front of each of us, and I picked up my fork. I wasn’t about to confess this would be my third piece today, but dang, I made a good cheesecake. I wasn’t skipping this. “Everything been okay out here?”

  “Great,” he said. “We’ve even had some people increase their donation after spending the day doing camp activities.”

  Ben wasn’t done at the mic. “And now to bring up our partner who has made a dream come true for Natalie and me, I’d like to present the developer of this project and many other sustainable green space projects around the country, Adam Reed!”

  Adam gave a soft but distinctly annoyed curse. “He was supposed to leave me out of it,” he grumbled, but he pasted a smile on his face and rose from his seat.

  As Adam made his way over, Ben continued, “Adam has worked tirelessly over the last six months to secure enough donations to fund one hundred campers this summer, kids whose lives will be changed forever, just like ours were.”

  “He raised every penny on his own,” Natalie whispered to me, her eyes shining as she watched Adam walking up.

  I choked a tiny bit on my cheesecake as I did the math. That would mean he’d raised over a quarter of a million dollars while overseeing a dozen other major projects.

  Adam took his place at the mic and smiled at the applause, even though it looked tight around the edges. He clearly did not love the spotlight. “Thank you for helping us meet our goal. I was a lucky kid and had a lot of advantages growing up, but I still learned more from my summers at Camp Oak Crest than at any other time in my life. About friendship, loyalty, hard work, and honor.”

  “And love,” Natalie whispered. “But we don’t want to remind parents of the possibility of summer romances.”

  I hushed her with a pinch and turned my attention back to Adam.

  “Every year I was here, I watched campers leave this experience with skills and connections that they still use ten and twelve years later. We hope to build a pipeline from camper to counselor so that as many of those Oak Crest graduates who want to can come back to work and become a part of the next generation of campers’ growth.” He paused, and I had the feeling he was managing his emotions. Then he fixed his eyes on me, and Natalie went still beside me. “Anyway, I experienced the greatest summer of my life here, and I believe that’s what’s in store for your kids. Thank you.”

  “Oh, Tab,” Natalie started as the audience applauded him. “How can you not—”

  I pinched her again. “Stop. I need to think.” Ben had caught Adam’s sleeve, and I watched as they had an off-mic conversation, each smiling slightly.

  Adam had meant every word he said tonight. And he’d meant every word he’d said in the last three days. And as the truth of that sank in, so did reality. No matter how much we talked about Oak Crest preparing us for real life, it wasn’t real life. I knew what I needed to do.

  “I have to check back in on Lisa,” I told Natalie, rising as Adam made his way back to us. “I’ll talk to you later.” Then I headed for the kitchen, pausing only long enough to scrawl a quick note before walking out the back door. And then I kept going.

  14

  I sat on the small boulder overlooking the lake and waited, listening for the crunch of twigs and leaves that would announce Adam’s arrival.

  The words I needed hadn’t come to me yet, but I was hanging onto hope that I would find them. Or maybe I knew what I needed to say, and I was looking for the guts to say it.

  I’d left the gala over an hour ago, and I was beginning to wonder if Adam hadn’t gotten my note, or if he had but wasn’t going to come, when I heard the soft scuffing of footsteps on the trail. I turned as Adam stepped into Moon Rock clearing.

  He cut the flashlight he was carrying. “Hi. I feel a little overdressed.”

  He was still wearing his suit from dinner minus the jacket. I’d gone home and changed to shorts and sweatshirt, and I tucked my knees beneath it now as a tiny breeze stirred through the clearing.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “Sure.” He held himself still, a coiled pause as if he were unsure which direction he should go, forward to me, or back down the trail.

  I hugged my knees, praying that the words I needed would be waiting for me. “Coming back here was both better and worse than I expected it to be. It brought me right back to my time here as a kid, and that was mostly good. Amazing, really. So much of my camp experience was the kind of thing the best movies are made of. But I think it also showed me that my last summer here—the last day of my last summer here—hurt me more than I realized.”

  He started to say something, but I held up my hand. “Wait. I need to get this out.” I straightened and slid off the rock. “I left that summer not able to trust my own instincts. I’d thought we shared the same feelings, and more than just hurting when I found out you didn’t, I doubted myself. That I knew what was real. So I threw myself into finishing my degree and applying to culinary school, then I threw myself into my career, and I didn’t give relationships much of a shot. I mean, I dated. Chefs, servers, cable execs. But every time it started to get real, I decided it was a distraction and I ended things. But I never connected that to here. To what you put into motion the night you kissed me up here. To what ended when you walked away on the dock.”

  I paused, feeling again the roller coaster of those two very different moments. Adam spoke into the silence. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know. The thing is, all these years where I avoided being anywhere you were, or changed the subject when Natalie brought you up
, I don’t know…” I shoved a hand through my hair which I’d freed from its bun when I changed clothes. “It should have been a giant flashing clue to how I really felt. I treated any mention of you like you were a bad grade on a math test I wanted to forget or something. But it went deeper. And it’s so obvious now that I’m here that I feel stupid for not realizing it.”

  He slid his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground. “I feel helpless. I wish I could go back in time and punch my own face,” he said, and it won a small laugh from me. “Or shake some sense into me. Or stand at the end of that dock and order myself back to talk to you, explain to myself that I was only running away from how much it would hurt to miss you when we left.”

  Oh, my heart. His words found their target as easily as Natalie had always found the bull’s-eye on the archery range.

  I walked over to him and gently tugged his hands free, sliding mine into his. “I think I’m messing this up.” I smiled up at him. “I mean it when I said I believe that you’re sorry. I think you understand exactly how much you hurt me, but the thing is, I know you could only understand if you’d also felt the same thing.” I kept my eyes fixed on the knot of his tie. “Understanding that changes everything. Because it means that my instincts were right. That the one and only time I thought I loved someone and that he loved me back, I was right. About both of us.” I swallowed. “It was real.”

  “It was real,” he answered, barely more than a whisper. “I want it to be again.”

  I took a deep breath. “I think we have to skip our third date.”

  He was quiet for a moment, then gave a soft sigh. “I get it.”

  “I don’t think you do. The terms of the dare were that after three dates, you’d kiss me, and if I still didn’t think there was anything between us, we’d walk away. But I don’t need the third date. And I don’t want this kiss to be on the dock where things ended.” I fell silent and waited as he glanced around the clearing.

  His hands tightened around mine. “You want it where everything began.” His voice had grown soft and low, like it had that night forever ago.