On second thought, maybe having Zoe nearby wouldn’t have hurt.
Julie took the cake layers out to the van, then returned and motioned to Zoe. “Let’s go, kiddo—”
The bakery door swung open, interrupting her sentence. Will strolled inside, a handful of dry burgundy leaves skittering onto the tiled floor in his wake.
“Sorry about that.” He caught the door with one hand and tried to kick them back out, looking up with a bright, apologetic smile that could have sold toothpaste to millions.
“Ah, never mind. No better explanation necessary.” Julie winked at Charlotte. “We’ll just be on our way . . . Boss.”
Then they were gone, leaving Charlotte alone with Will and the kaleidoscope of leaves on the floor.
For some reason, that particular mess didn’t bother her one bit.
She braced her arms against the counter between them, briefly wondering if his girlfriend Melissa was typically the mess-intolerant type too. Maybe she and Melissa had things in common. Maybe she’d meet her during one of the wedding events for Adam and Brittany, and they could be friends.
Surely then she could put a stop to this uncomfortable and unnecessary magnetism toward Will.
Charlotte took a deep breath and wished for the thousandth time that she had known six years ago what she knew now.
Well, five years plus nine months, anyway.
Will leaned against the counter opposite her, bracing on his forearms, and gestured to the swinging door in Julie’s wake. “Is she always that perky?”
Charlotte started to answer, then met his eyes and hesitated. From this closer vantage point, she could see weary wrinkles lining his eyes, attesting to a false front. He’d apparently had a rough day, or something heavy weighed on his mind.
She knew the feeling. She rarely got a break from her own burdens. In fact, if it wasn’t for the light Zoe brought to her life and the fact that she got to bake for a living, she’d buckle right underneath them. God had been good to her, despite her mistakes, and had blessed her in spite of herself.
Her defensive guard slipped a little under this wave of compassion toward Will, and she fought to rebuild the retaining wall, avoiding eye contact as she brushed at some imaginary crumbs on the counter. “Sometimes. Julie’s a redhead, so you never know what you’re going to get.”
“She can’t be as bad as Brittany.”
Charlotte snorted. “No one’s as bad as—” She winced. This was a client she was railing to—and the best man, no less. Not exactly professional. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe.” Will winked, and the stress lines around his eyes edged away as a real smile replaced the forced. “I mean, the truth hurts, right?”
“It definitely can.” A huge understatement. Painful or not, knowing the bad was infinitely better than being deceived. She shrugged away the memories. “I guess some people don’t realize how they come across.”
Will’s fingers drummed a rhythm on the countertop. “Just between us, I think Brittany knows how she is, and just chooses to be that way anyway. Mostly because everyone lets her.”
“You don’t think there’s a chance she’s misunderstood?” Charlotte knew not to jump to conclusions, not after she’d naively dated an engaged man for months. Everyone on the school campus had assumed she knew exactly what she was doing, and she hadn’t had a clue. She’d let herself be swept away, let herself be sweet-talked against everything she’d ever stood for.
No one believed her, especially after she turned up pregnant. And she wore the Scarlet Letter all the way to graduation day. Zoe’s father refused to be a part of any of it. Never showed a moment’s interest, never paid a dime in child support.
It was just as well. Charlotte wanted nothing to do with him, ever. At least she’d been able to move back to her hometown, start The Dough Knot, and make a decent life for her and Zoe.
“There’s always a chance, I suppose.” Will shrugged, as if it didn’t really matter.
Charlotte’s breath tightened in her chest. His flippancy over such a deep topic annoyed her more than it should.
“I just don’t believe people change—not easily, anyway, or completely.” Will’s eyes flickered with some undefined emotion. “My mom used to always tell us that if someone tries to show you who they really are, then let them.”
Charlotte felt her neck flush with indignation as she pushed away from the counter. Away from Will’s judgment. “But what about those people who are really good at appearances?”
She fell headlong into the flashback, feeling exactly the way she had in college, defending herself all over again. No one believed she was innocent—especially not her ex’s fiancée, who had accused her of being a home wrecker in front of a stadium full of students.