Landry: If you need a moving truck to help you . . .
Me: What happened to one day at a time?
Landry: That idea sucks. I’ve moved on. Note: You have too. ;) Jumping in shower. See you soon.
Me: xo
Danielle
I’ve done three loads of laundry, folded them, and put them away. I’ve reorganized my bathroom cabinets and purged about twenty bottles of crusty fingernail polish that outlived their expiration date by a few years. Then I sorted my lingerie into two piles—pretty and Aunt Flow. Looking at the clock, I still have a few hours before Lincoln is done.
There would be no issue with me going over there early. I have a freaking key. While that seems like a winning idea, and one that will make me less likely to end up in the looney bin this afternoon, I don’t want to do it. It’s too presumptuous.
I’ve jumped into a lot over the past few weeks, much of which I promised myself I never would. But I trust him. I want him. I even love him, which is enough to make me want to absolutely freak out if I think about it too long. So I don’t let myself go there.
Rushing into my bedroom and opening my suitcase that still sits on my bed, I toss in a few days’ worth of clothes and cosmetics and latch it shut. Grabbing a phone charger from the wall in the kitchen, as well as my keys, I head out the front door and lock it behind me. Within a few minutes, I’m in my car and heading across town towards the Smitten Kitten.
When I arrive, the eatery is bursting with aromas unusual for a Saturday afternoon. My brows are pulled together as I make my way to the counter.
“What’s that smell?” I ask. “What are you doing?”
Pepper is covered in flour. It dusts her nose, cheekbones, front of her apron and both arms. She blows out a breath and little white particles go floating. “The mixer had a mishap.”
“You or the electric one?” I laugh. “You look like a ghost!”
“I’m trying to make this soup I found online from China. I spent a fortune, a literal fortune, Danielle, on ingredients and it turned out to be the worst thing I’ve ever made.”
“Maybe it’s not,” I suggest. “Maybe it’s just not what you’re expecting.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m grieving.”
Laughing at her dramatics, I order a chocolate croissant and a cappuccino and then burrow down in my spot in the corner. Pulling out a notepad, I plan on making notes for work next week but instead finding myself sketching the tree line from the Farm.
“What’s that?” Pepper asks, sitting my items in front of me. “And why are you here now?”
“I’m waiting on Lincoln to get done at a meeting,” I tell her. “We had the best time in Savannah.”
“What was it like?”
“Perfect,” I gush. “His family is incredible, the property was breathtaking. Now I can’t stand to be home alone. It’s just too mundane compared to the Landry’s.”
“Don’t go comparing stuff,” Pepper warns. “That’s a dangerous game.”
“I know.” I lift my cappuccino and watch the foam swirl. “I need you to make me feel better about this.”
“About what?”
“About this thing with Landry.” Taking a hesitant sip, I feel a sting as the drink trickles down my throat. “Tell me this will end okay. Tell me I’m not foolish to try this. Tell me this isn’t Einstein’s definition of insanity.”
“Well, it is,” she laughs, “but . . .” She slides into the booth across from me. “Did you know I owned two eateries before the Smitten Kitten?”
“No.”
“I did. I had a little place in Nashville that was tucked next to a deli. Cute as hell, but terrible location. Then I had a little café here in Memphis that I couldn’t get off the ground.”
“I had no idea,” I say, taking another sip of my drink. “How did you get here?”
She smiles, picking a chunk of my croissant off and popping it in her mouth. “I’d closed shop three years before. I was working as a paralegal and had an appointment on this side of town when I saw this building up for sale. I was so drawn to it. I could see myself in here, baking and decorating and cooking my life away. I was terrified to tell my husband.”
“Why?”
Pepper looks at me like I’m crazy. “Because I’d failed at this game twice! How could I expect him to want to take the chance on me a third time? It was insane, even to me,” she sighs. “It was all I could think about. All I dreamed about. I could see the menus in my head and smell the coffee roasting. Eventually my husband got to the bottom of my little daydreams and told me to go for it.”
My jaw drops. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” she smiles. “Well, not just like that. He told me to learn from my past experiences and to go into this one smarter. And I had to give him an epic blowjob. Look at me now!” Her hands extend from her sides, motioning to the café. After a few long minutes, she drops them. “That’s what you need to do, Danielle. Learn from your past experiences and go into this one smarter. Maybe Lincoln Landry will be your Smitten Kitten. Or maybe you’ll be his,” she giggles. “Either way.”
“How’d you get so smart?” I can’t deny her words do soothe me, make me feel a little less frantic about this new situation.
“It’s genetic. Now I need to go make another batch of cupcakes for a party this evening I’m catering.”
“I need to go too,” I say, gathering my things. “I think I’m going to head to Lincoln’s.”
The words make me giddy, the thought of seeing him makes me happier than I could imagine I could be.
“Have fun,” Pepper winks before scurrying into the kitchen.
Oh, I fully intend to.
Lincoln
I IMAGINE THIS IS WHAT Graham feels like. Tucked in a shirt that buttons up the front and threatens to choke you, uptight as hell as you walk into a meeting. Only difference is that my brother likes this shit. I hate it.
Give me a bat and a ball and I don’t care who watches or who I have to talk to about it. I can dissect numbers and stats all day. Need someone to study a batting stance and give you a dissertation? I’m your man. Hell, I’ll even wear a suit and tie and charm voters or patrons of a charity and I’ll make you a ton of money. But make me talk about money? I’d rather play basketball.
Coming off the best couple of days of my personal life, I’m swinging open the doors of the Arrows building with a whole lot of nerves. I think it’s worse because I’ve been so relaxed lately.
Just like that, I’m grinning.
Now this, this must be what Barrett feels like. Happy. Content. Excited about the future.
Greeting the receptionist and ignoring the eyes she makes at me, I hit the button on the elevator. Even this reminds me of Dani. As if on cue, my phone rings and I see her name lit up on the screen.
Dani: If you didn’t mean for me to use the key, too late. I’m sitting on your sofa with a pink mug of coffee and hazelnut creamer. ;) Can’t wait to see you. Go get ’em, tiger.
Me: Tiger, huh?
Dani: I like when you growl.
Me: I like when you scream my name.
And when you whisper it.