Sweeter in the Summer

by Olivia Miles

  And because it was Mary who had dropped out of college to take care of their grandmother when she was sick, and later sat by her grandfather’s hospital bed and promised she would keep the family tradition alive, and because it was Mary who had curled up with her in bed all those cold winter nights when they were children, begging to be told stories of the parents she couldn’t even remember, because Lila had gotten two extra years with them, after all; Lila had decided then and there that she would find a way to keep the ice cream parlor.

  Everything was riding on landing this big account. If she didn’t pull through, she wasn’t sure how she’d ever live with herself.

  “It was . . . okay,” Lila said with a reluctant smile. She glanced at the mail with the same eagerness she always had as a child, when the thought of a letter seemed so thrilling. Now, most of the mail she received came in the form of a bill, especially since their grandfather had died. “They want to meet again in two weeks.”

  “See, I knew it!” Mary’s grin broadened.

  “It’s not a done deal yet,” Lila warned as she began climbing the stairs.

  “But it sounds like it could be! I’ve been thinking, and I bet I could do a lot of the renovation myself. Then I wouldn’t have to borrow so much.” Mary currently worked thirty hours a week as a receptionist at a doctor’s office, and she’d just taken another part-time job to pick up some extra hours. Lila had offered her some work in her office, but Mary insisted it was better this way. She’d flitted through jobs, never sticking with one—never showing much passion until Sunshine Creamery became a possibility.

  Lila’s heart tugged. Her sister deserved to have something of her own, just like she did, and what better than the ice cream parlor? With any luck, one of them would have a child to pass it down to one day. That is, if either of them could ever find a guy worth settling down with. So far, the best Lila had fared was Sam, and Mary, well, she was still skirting her boss’s advances.

  Lila paused at the landing and gave her sister a hard look. “You’re not borrowing anything. It’s a family business. You’re my family.” My only family, she finished silently.

  Mary gave her a quick hug. “So tell me everything. We’ll splurge and order a pizza.”

  Lila’s smile felt wan. As much as she would have loved to toss on her favorite pajamas and relax at the little bistro table she and Mary had set up on the fire escape, she had to get ready to meet Sam, and she didn’t have a clue what she should wear.

  “I have a dinner thing tonight,” she said.

  Mary studied her with interest. “Oh, do you now?”

  “It’s not like that,” Lila replied, but her voice lacked conviction. Who was she kidding? She didn’t know what this dinner would be like, what to prepare herself for. The worst, she decided. It was her only protection. “It’s a business thing.”

  Mary’s eyes narrowed as she nodded her head. “A thing,” she repeated softly.

  Lila laughed. “Come on. I’ll tell you everything while I get ready.” Well, almost everything, she thought. Plucking her key from her pocket, she unlocked the door, feeling her shoulders relax as it swung open. Home. After six years, this really was her home—with no other to return to by now. Modest at best, and some might say downright cramped, to Lila it was perfect. Especially on a day like today.

  Dropping her tote in the small entranceway, she kicked off the flip-flops she’d changed into after that disastrous meeting and wandered into the living room, Mary footsteps behind. Of the four rooms in the apartment, this was her favorite, with its exposed brick wall and antique fireplace that was more for display than use. Lila loved nothing more than to curl up with a good book in the slip-covered chair near the tall bay window.

  But there wouldn’t be any of that tonight. Tonight she had a date. A meeting! Yes, a meeting.

  “I should probably get in the shower,” she said, but her feet stayed planted to the floor.

  “I’ll make some iced tea,” Mary offered. With a sly grin, she ducked into the kitchen.

  Lila went into the bathroom and turned on the taps, feeling immediately better when the hot water hit her skin. Nothing like a shower and a chat with her sister to calm her down. And with less than an hour before she’d be sitting across a table from the one man who had the power to stir her emotions like none other, she needed all the help she could get.

  Mary was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the doorjamb to the hall, when Lila emerged in her terrycloth robe a few minutes later. “Details. Now.”

  Lila accepted the glass of iced tea and followed her sister onto their makeshift balcony. Instead of sitting down, she went over to the flower box they’d hung over the rail and inspected their herb garden. Behind her, Mary made a show of clearing her throat.

  She supposed she couldn’t put it off forever. Mary had a way of seeing right through her, and there was no way Lila would be able to hide her feelings today. “Do you remember that guy I told you about from my days in New York? Sam?”

  Mary’s eyes were so wide, Lila could see the white around her brown irises. “Yes . . .” She blinked rapidly.

  “Well, he’s sort of the person I’m meeting tonight,” Lila muttered.

  “Are you kidding me?” Mary squealed. She swept her long auburn hair from her face and wrapped a band from her wrist around and around until she had formed a careless knot on top of her head. “You’re having dinner with Sam tonight. The Sam. Where’s he taking you?”

  Lila hesitated. “Harbor House.”

  “The most romantic restaurant in town,” Mary pointed out.

  Lila pinched her lips and set the glass of tea on the table. Sam had stumbled back into her life after all these years, not by choice, but by chance. He hadn’t sought her out. He hadn’t tried to right his wrongs. And he certainly didn’t have any emotional interest in her. Clearly, he never had.

  Why couldn’t they meet somewhere else? Like a conference room?

  “I’m sorry,” Mary interrupted her thoughts. “Am I missing something here? This is Sam, right? The same Sam you pined for—”

  “You’re forgetting what he did to me.” Lila turned back to the bed of herbs. They looked just as wilted as she felt.

  Mary grew silent as Lila took the watering can into the kitchen. Anger stirred within her as she waited for it to fill with water. Sam was a jerk. A horrible, selfish person. Just remember that, she told herself. She’d chant it all through dinner.

  She glanced at her sister through the screen door before returning to the balcony. Mary always grounded her, ever since they were little. It was why she chose to share this apartment after coming back to Chicago. Sure, she could have afforded a place of her own, but how lonely would that be? She’d needed to get back to her roots after the disappointment of New York. She needed to focus on what was important. And who was important.

  Lila gave the herbs a long bath and returned the watering can to its corner. She glanced at her watch. Her pulse kicked up a notch when she saw the time. “I should probably get ready.”

  Mary followed her through the sunny white kitchen and into the bedroom Lila had painted a soothing shade of blue. She’d read somewhere it was a tranquil color, meant to calm. Today, however, it wasn’t living up to its reputation.

  “I still don’t understand how this all happened. I thought today was your big meeting with Reed Sugar.”

  “It was.” Lila riffled through her closet, finally deciding on a gray pencil skirt and a black, short-sleeved blouse. If she told her sister that winning the account hinged on collaborating with Sam, there was no doubt that alarm would quickly follow. She wasn’t ready to let Mary down until she had to, and with any luck, it wouldn’t come to that. “I ran into Sam while I was waiting for the meeting to start. He’s in town for business and… well, we’re bouncing some ideas off each other.”

  Mary’s lip curled as Lila tossed the clothes onto the bed. “Please tell me you’re not planning to wear that.”

  “I told you,”
Lila insisted, “that this is not a date!”

  “I don’t understand why you keep saying that!” Mary shook her head. “You were crazy about this man! And now here he is . . . all these years later. You thought you would never see him again!”

  “Exactly.” Lila gritted her teeth. She had gone out of her way never to see him again. How could life be so cruel?

  “You’re honestly telling me that there isn’t a part of you that’s glad to see him?” Mary pressed. “A tiny part of you?”

  Lila stared at her sister, stricken. “No, Mary. No!” she repeated with emphasis. She was shaking as she stuffed the skirt back into her closet and pulled out a scoop neck dress that hit safely below the knee.

  Mary reached for the next hanger and held up a black, spaghetti strap shift dress with a slit up the back.

  “No,” Lila said.

  “Yes,” Mary insisted. “Why shouldn’t he see you at your best? This is your chance, Lila!”

  Mary was right about that. It was her chance. And she wasn’t going to mess it up by getting any romantic notions.

  Still, she thought, eyeing the dress, in her revenge fantasy, she had been looking fabulous, with fresh highlights, perfectly toned abs and calves, and skin that hadn’t aged a day. The least she could do was wear the damn dress.

  “Maybe he’s sorry,” Mary suggested as Lila fumbled with the zipper.

  “No, if he was sorry he could have apologized to me a long time ago.”

  Mary’s smile was one of encouragement. “Maybe he’s changed.”

  Lila tipped her chin. Oh, Mary. The eternal optimist. “People don’t change,” she said firmly. And she’d be wise to remember that, no matter what he had up his sleeve for tonight.

  Lila stared in the mirror and felt her shoulders droop. Her hair was still damp, hanging at her sun-kissed shoulders, which were on full display along with her arms and legs and half her chest. There was entirely too much skin being shown, even if it was almost July, and even if she was twenty-nine. And even if she was having dinner with the hottest guy she’d ever kissed.

  Make that the meanest guy she’d ever kissed.

  “I look like I care,” she sighed.

  “You do and you should,” Mary said, coming up behind her. “Show him what he’s been missing. Remind him of the biggest mistake of his life.”

  Lila grinned. Mary had a point. Still, she swiped her eyeglasses from her dresser and slid them on. Just in case there was any misunderstanding that this meeting was anything but professional.

  Chapter Three

  Lila stared warily at the stone façade of Harbor House from across the street. It was hardly the type of place you went to with a business colleague. With its small, candlelit tables and view of the water, Harbor House was exactly the kind of place you went to get engaged, not suffer through a dinner with an old flame you desperately wanted to forget.

  The sun was on its last breath, tucking behind the horizon, leaving an orange cast to the sky in its wake. A cool breeze was blowing off the lake, and Lila tucked her hair behind her ears as she crossed the street, taking time with each step. She should have told him they could meet tomorrow, at her office, where Penny could chaperone. That’s what she should have done. But all it had taken was thirty seconds of Sam’s charm and she was fuzzy headed, barely able to think ahead to the consequences of her own knee-jerk reactions to his whims.

  Well, not tonight, she told herself firmly, as she approached the quaint little restaurant tucked alongside one of the city’s harbors. Tonight there would be no forgetting the past. And no discussing it either. The last thing she needed was to be derailed from the business at hand.

  Inside the restaurant, the dining room was airy, with square tables covered in crisp white tablecloths. The hostess motioned to the outdoor patio, and there he was, sitting on a wrought iron chair, looking out over the water, one foot hooked on the other knee, arms casually bent on chair rests, his sunglasses folded neatly on the table. Not a care in the world.

  So this was how it was going to be. Now, after all this time. As if nothing had ever gone on between the two of them.

  Lila lifted her chin and walked onto the sweeping deck, taking in the strings of lights that hung from the whitewashed portico, and the colorful flowers nestled in whiskey barrels, trying in vain to focus on anything but the man in the pink polo and navy shorts with the electric blue eyes who knew how to kiss her until she moaned.

  “Hello again,” she said as she took her seat across from him.

  God, he looked good tonight. Too good.

  He’s a jerk, Lila. A horrible, selfish person.

  Having risen to meet her, Sam sat back down in his chair and smiled until his eyes crinkled at the corners. Lila quickly averted her gaze to the menu. He didn’t need to look so happy. As if nothing had ever transpired.

  “You look nice,” Sam said through a warm smile, and Lila gritted her teeth. He was smooth. Too smooth. So smooth that it was easy to just believe anything he said and fall under his spell.

  He’s a jerk, Lila. A horrible, selfish person.

  She skimmed the menu, not registering any of the words. She rarely wore her glasses—they were a weak prescription used for reading—and the glare of the sunset was blinding, causing her to blink.

  But to take them off now . . .

  “I’m glad you agreed to meet me tonight,” Sam continued. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

  Lila set down the menu and twisted the napkin in her lap, torn between relaxing into the night with the one man whose conversation she had enjoyed above all others at one time, and keeping up the protective wall she had built for herself since moving back to Chicago. She searched his handsome face for a glimmer of menace, a concrete reminder of what he had done to her, and came up blank. All she saw across from her was the man who had captured her heart.

  And then broke it.

  “I took the liberty of ordering us a bottle of wine,” Sam said, his voice low and rich. “I remembered you like Cabernet.”

  “I do,” Lila said, raising her eyes to boldly meet his, “but I prefer white in the summer.” But then, how would he have known that? They’d never made it to the summer. Their relationship—if that’s what it ever was—had started in September and ended in March. Six sweet months.

  Sam chuckled and reached for his water glass. It was wet with condensation. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

  She tipped her head. “And why should I?”

  “I’m going to give you a good time tonight,” Sam said, shaking a playful finger at her across the table. “Whether you like it or not.”

  Go ahead and try. But despite her resolve, she couldn’t resist the thrill of excitement that bubbled inside her. There was still something there. A spark. Maybe just an attraction. Or maybe it was history. There was no escaping that.

  She stalled to compose herself before daring to reply, grateful for the interruption of the server uncorking a wine bottle with a decorative French label. If Sam was here to apologize, he had a poor way of handling it. Their past was too big to be swept under the rug. Some things couldn’t be forgiven. Or forgotten.

  “A toast,” Sam announced, raising his glass.

  Lila hesitated, sighed, and then reluctantly held up her own glass. The evening was already getting off track. She was going against her own intentions and getting emotional. This was business. Nothing more.

  “To old friends,” Sam said. He took a slow sip, winking at her over the rim of his glass.

  Lila’s blood boiled as she glared at the sparkle in his eye. Wordlessly, she took a sip of the smooth wine. Across from her, Sam watched to see if she enjoyed his selection. She’d be damned if she gave him the satisfaction.

  She set the wine on the table and pushed her glasses up her nose with her index finger. “I suppose we should discuss Reed Sugar, seeing as we only have two weeks to come up with something spectacular.”

  Sam opened the menu and studied it for a fe
w seconds before asking, “Do you have any initial ideas?”

  “A few,” she lied, having been too distracted all day to form a coherent thought. “It might be best to go over some visuals in my office tomorrow. Would two o’clock work for you?”

  Sam pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped a few buttons. “Ten would be better.”

  Lila didn’t bother to check her calendar before replying steadily, “How does two thirty work?”

  Sam’s eyes locked hers, gauging her intention. “That will be just fine,” he said evenly.

  “I look forward to it then,” Lila said, flashing her first smile of the evening.

  “As do I.” Sam closed his menu firmly. He hunched forward across the table, closing the distance between them. “But enough talk about business, Lila. You and I both know why we’re here.”

  Lila’s heart began to race. “I don’t know about you, but I’m here to discuss sugar.”

  Sam regarded her levelly. “You’re still upset about our misunderstanding. Lila, that was more than half a decade ago!”

  “Misunderstanding?” Lila felt her jaw slack. “There was no misunderstanding, Sam. I lost my job—”

  “And how was that my fault, exactly?” Sam countered.

  “Amazing.” Lila shook her head in disgust. “You really take no responsibility for it at all, do you?”

  Sam squinted at the accusation. “I wasn’t the one who fired you.”

  “No, you weren’t,” she agreed, frowning as she thought of Sam’s father. “But you didn’t do anything to try to stop it, either.”

  “That’s not fair,” Sam said.

  Disbelief quickly turned to anger, and Lila felt a slow heat creep up her cheeks. “Your father fired me, Sam. And you let him do it!”