Sitting up straighter, he pressed his lips together tightly.
“I appreciate that you’re happy for me. I know you and your brothers could buy my store a million times over.”
“A million might be overstating it,” he said, dryly.
“I’m doing this.”
Her quiet smile and determination made his heart clench. His grandfather would have loved her. “I love that you and your brothers use your wealth for good. That you want to lift small businesses up. But I want to do this on my own or not at all. Plus, it’s not a good idea in this case.”
“Why?”
“Friendship and business don’t go hand in hand. You must know that. I’ll take the catering jobs. I might actually need two employees. I figure it’ll give me more flexibility with my own schedule if I hire two part-timers.”
“There’s no harm in taking a small loan to cover you. Especially when what you’re using it for will yield results and income.” Sure, business and friendship didn’t mix but Squishy Cat was created for this very thing. It was the essence of Chris’s plaque.
It startled him when she stood abruptly. She grabbed the plates. “I don’t need saving.”
Wes sucked in a breath, watching as she walked to the kitchen, set her plate in the sink. She was comfortable in his space. And he was comfortable with her in it. Another first. Maybe she was right. Some lines shouldn’t be crossed.
“I know that, Hailey.”
She sank back onto the couch and Wes shifted, unsure how to smooth things over. He’d meant to help. He felt intrinsically tied to her success or failure the way he would with … someone he cared a great deal about. Like Grace or Everly. She’s your friend.
His friend still looked irritated.
“Piper asked if you wanted to come for Thanksgiving dinner. They’re doing it early so they can go to Nick’s parents’. I said I’d ask.”
“That sounds nice. Does that mean you’re free on the actual day?”
She nodded. “Yup.” Still short.
“Good. You can join us at Noah’s.”
Hailey twisted her lips into a smirk. “Presumptuous.”
He laughed, picked up the remote. “I know Grace already invited you.”
She flopped back on the couch. “Argh. You know too many of my secrets.”
Wes didn’t comment. He scrolled through Netflix, not really registering anything. The tension between them was making his skin itch. He started to say what was on his mind, stopped.
“Are you mad?”
She turned her head, gave him half a smile. “No. I just don’t want you to think you can fix everything because you’re rich.”
“Ouch.”
“You’re my friend. You’re supposed to believe in me.”
He sat up, irritation of his own rising. “I do believe in you. Do you think I would put my money into something I thought would fail?”
“Your money has nothing to do with me. I don’t want it. I want your words of encouragement and support. I care about your opinion. I don’t care about your money.”
He didn’t know what to say about that. Wealth was part of who he was and yeah, it smoothed a lot of damn roads. Was it wrong that he wanted to make things easier for her?
“You don’t want your dad’s name or money, right?”
Clasping his fingers together, he said through gritted teeth, “Right. Speaking of knowing too many secrets.”
“There’s a hell of a lot to be said for doing it on our own.”
She had him there. He sighed. “I get it. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be. I don’t need anything other than friendship from you, Wes. I’m not a project or an investment.”
He cursed low under his breath. “I never meant to make you feel like you were.”
Show her. He pulled open one of the four drawers in his coffee table, his heart rate picking up. Little beads of sweat formed near his temples. Damn. Get a grip. Wes passed her the black sketchbook, held it a moment when she put her hand on it.
“What is this?”
“I believe in you. Your friendship matters to me. I don’t want to screw that up.”
“You didn’t. You just think you know everything,” she said with a teasing wink.
Wes laughed, released the sketchbook, ignoring the uncomfortable tightness in his chest.
Hailey opened the book, gasped. “Holy shit. I knew you doodled but Wes, this is gorgeous.”
The first page of the book was an old drawing of a character he’d created and re-created a dozen times since his teens. He said nothing as she flipped the pages, making appreciative comments, running her fingers over the drawings like they were delicate, something special. He hadn’t shared his art with anyone in more years than he could count.
“Wes, these are breathtaking. You can feel the characters’ personalities coming off the page. And these worlds! They’re so detailed.”
Her words filled him with something he couldn’t name. Pressure built in his chest. “Thank you.”
She looked up from the pages, held his gaze. The oddest thing happened: the pressure in his body released and he was left with only happiness. She meant what she said; he could see it in her eyes.
“Thank you for sharing this with me.”
He twisted his lips, didn’t let himself hesitate too long. She’d given him a gift with her words. “It’s a video game idea. It really is just sketches but the story, it’s a game I sometimes design in my head.”
Hailey’s hand flattened on the page before what he’d actually intended to show her. “What’s stopping you from designing it outside your head? Or at least on a virtual design program?”
He shook off the longing her words brought, unable to separate the reality that he was a grown man from the fact that his father’s opinion still hovered over him like a damn rain cloud.
“My brothers and I are trying to build something together. This is just a hobby. A way to settle my brain, really. Getting into the gaming industry would require a lot of time and I’ve committed it elsewhere.”
She was quiet so long, he wondered if she was going to say anything. “I’m sad you think that. You’re very talented. You have the know-how. It seems like a waste to keep your gift in a drawer in your coffee table. And, as your friend, I don’t mind saying, you’re selling your siblings short by not sharing this with them.”
Wes’s mouth dropped open. “Guess this friendship thing comes with no-holds-barred honesty.”
She grinned. “That’s the way it should be. But honesty, not cruelty. There’s a difference between being able to say what’s on your mind and thinking you can say whatever you want.”
He didn’t get a chance to respond before she turned the page. And squealed. She actually bounced in her seat, her laughter filling the room.
“You made our guide! That’s me! That’s you!” She pointed at the character sketches he’d done of them, as if he didn’t know who they were. Her delight fueled his own.
“This is adorable. I can’t believe you did this.”
He watched as she looked over the little sketches he’d made of their “just friends” guide. He’d done it in the form of an infographic with Hailey explaining how things worked—stacks of chocolate bars sat under a sign that said MUST HAVE, they both wore shirts that said TRUST ME, YOU MUST, and there was even a sketch of brown sugar with a tag on it that said SECRET INGREDIENT. Over the last several weeks, he’d added more doodles and sketches. It would be a fun thing to transfer to his computer, add pops of color. But for now, watching her happiness as she explored it, he didn’t need more.
“This might be the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, her voice reverent.
“Your friendship matters to me, Hailey. I might cross the line sometimes with my need to fix things but I have the best of intentions.” Had he ever been that honest with anyone?
Going up on her knees, she held the book in one hand and wrapped her other arm around his neck, squeezing him tight. “You are the best friend a girl could have.”
He hugged her back, unsure why her kind words sat uneasily in his stomach.
16
The San Verde Shop Association was an eclectic mix of people. The majority of them were in their late sixties or beyond. Other than Tara, the only person her age was Becky, who ran the bookstore. I need to ask her about some books for teens. Some of them seemed merely cordial, like Esther, who ran the Old Time Five & Dime, while others were gregarious, like Ricardo, who ran Yesterday’s Treasures, a little vintage shop. Hailey needed to give each of the shops a closer look. If she hired Leo and maybe one other, she could spend a couple hours being a tourist in her own town.
“How are you?” Tara asked Hailey, coming up beside her and passing her a bottle of water.
“Thanks. I’m good. How’s it going, Becky?”
The petite brunette shrugged. “I’m nervous. I don’t like surprises. Oh, Tara, our books arrived.”
“Excellent. We’re starting a book club,” Tara told Hailey.