Sweet Rendezvous

by Danielle Stewart

  “What field was that?” he asked casually, as though he was trying to keep a skittish deer from running off.

  “Plus”—she had no intention of answering him—“I actually enjoyed working around all those flowers this morning. Maybe that will be my new profession.”

  “Hold on,” Davis said, as he cut the wheel and pulled onto the dirt trail leading to the cabin Dallas had offered Elaine. “It’s a little bumpy. When you drive your car here you’ll have to go real slow. Those sports cars aren’t built for this kind of road.”

  “Is this a road?” she asked, clutching the handle over her head as they bounced over another rough spot.

  “Yeah, this is more secluded than I thought it would be. I haven’t been down this side of the property since I was a kid. We used to come out here and light barn fires and drink. I know if Dallas had anything else available he’d give it to you.”

  “It’ll be fine,” she said, but her face looked less convinced. “I can make do anywhere. I’m not some pretentious northerner who can’t take care of herself. I’ve been doing it long enough.”

  “It should be just around this bend,” Davis said, trying to navigate around a tree limb that had fallen.

  “Please tell me that’s not it.” Elaine sighed, rising in her seat to get a better look. “Because I can make do with a lot, but I will need a roof.”

  “Oh man,” Davis grunted as he pulled in. “We had a bad wind storm here a couple weeks ago. That tree must have come down then.” He hopped out of the truck and hurried over to the cabin. “Dallas is gonna have to send a crew out here to repair that roof. It might take a few days.”

  She was out of the truck and by his side a moment later. “I mean it’s not that bad. Maybe if I only stay on that side of the cabin?”

  “Sure,” he chuckled as long as you don’t mind the animals that have probably moved in by now. I’m sure the raccoons make for good company in the middle of the night.”

  “He doesn’t have any other cabins at all?” she asked, nibbling her nails nervously. “I mean even something being renovated, I could stay out of the way.”

  “I’ll call him again,” Davis said, walking over to the fallen tree and trying to figure out what Dallas would need to get it fixed up. “Worst case you can come back to my place.”

  “I’ve asked enough of you already,” she said, shaking her head and kicking at the dirt with the sneakers she’d borrowed from his sister. “Not to mention how much fuel we’d add to the gossip mill.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” he said, waving her off. “They’ll talk no matter what. But it’s definitely not suitable for you to be here, and it may be days before Dallas can get anything else open. We can head to town and get some groceries. I should make you a proper dinner.”

  “You cook?” she asked, propping her hands high on her hips as though he’d been holding out on her. “I’d like to see that.”

  “I have a few recipes I can manage. Nothing like you ate at Sweet Caroline’s last night. There won’t be cobbler, but it’s stick to the ribs kind of food. When I went in to see Caroline this morning she said you were much too thin and to make sure I work on that.”

  “I’m starting to really like this place,” Elaine said, hopping back into his truck. “But are you sure you don’t mind putting me up for a few days?”

  “It’ll be nice to have the company,” he admitted, taking his time to back up the truck and turn it around in such a tight spot. “The house is pretty quiet.”

  “I feel like I owe you something,” she sputtered out, twisting her chin up thoughtfully.

  “No,” he cut back quickly. “I don’t want you feeling like that. Just enjoy your time in Indigo Bay. Think of me as an ambassador, a welcoming committee. I’m doing my obligatory small-town duty.”

  “How about a little honesty,” she offered, fidgeting in her seat. “I guess the least I can do is tell you more about myself.”

  “That would be nice, considering Mrs. Donavan gave you my whole life story. You could even the score a little.”

  “I’m a VP at a large trading firm on Wall Street,” Elaine breathed out reluctantly. “Or I was. I grew up in the city, and all I ever wanted to do was stand on the floor of the New York Stock exchange and trade. It didn’t pan out exactly how I thought it would. I didn’t have the right makeup for it. So I went on the equities research side instead.”

  “Wow, a VP sounds like you’ve earned your stripes,” Davis replied, watching her try to hide her pride about it all.

  “It’s a long process. Right out of college I went in as essentially an unpaid intern. Then I did some syndicate desk work, issuing bonds. I went to Harvard business school for two years and came back as an analyst. I’ve been working my way up. It’s a very intense job.”

  “I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know much about that. I mean I’ve seen it on television, but it always looked like a bunch of people waving papers around and yelling.”

  “As far as the trading floor, that’s pretty much it.” She laughed, and he felt relieved to see her relaxed enough to talk about herself. “You make trades auction style on behalf of your clients until the closing bell. It’s fast-paced. There are billions of dollars on the line. My role was to research and essentially grade pending IPOs and other opportunities on the horizon.” Her hands fluttered with excitement as she spoke. “The stakes are so high. And I was good. They used to call me a bloodhound for a money-making opportunity. I made our firm a fortune.”

  “That sounds a lot like the livestock auctions my uncle took me to when I was young and visited his farm,” Davis teased, and she rolled her eyes.

  “Sure if each cow was worth a million dollars and you had to know how they’d perform compared to the cow next to them.”

  “If you were so good at it, why stop? Why would you want to leave New York if you loved it so much? It’s your home.” Davis knew he was edging on thin ice and was one intrusive question away from plunging into freezing water.

  “You’ve been here your whole life?” she asked, casting a knowing look at him, hardly needing to finish her point but doing it anyway. “Indigo Bay is all you’ve known, and you love it? Or are you just comfortable here? Complacent?”

  “A little of that I guess.” He shrugged. “I had the opportunity to go other places over the years, and it never worked out.”

  “California?” Elaine asked, arching her brow at him.

  “Yes,” he sighed. “I could have gone with Julie. My sister was here though. She’s two years younger, and she didn’t want to move away with my parents either. I told them I’d stay with her. It’s a commitment I’m glad I made because it worked out well for her. She’s very happy now. But I do wonder about Julie. If I had gone with her maybe she wouldn’t have spiraled the way she did.”

  “My mother was always good at giving advice. She used to say don’t take all the credit for other people’s mistakes. You’d be amazed how little control you have over helping someone do the right thing.” She touched his forearm gently, and he kept his eyes fixed on the road as they emerged from the woods and onto the main road.

  “Maybe so,” he reluctantly agreed. “What’s done is done. But to answer your question, I’m happy in Indigo Bay. It’s not because I don’t know any better.”

  “I’m not as enlightened as you, maybe. I thought I loved New York, but the second I started driving away from it, the city lights in my rearview mirror, I felt a weight lift off me. Landing in a place like this makes me think maybe there is more to life than just waking up every morning, trying to make a bunch of strangers a lot of money.”

  “You managed to not answer any of my questions,” he said, throwing her a sideways glance but making sure to flash her a smile too. “You didn’t say why you left your job.”

  “And I probably won’t ever tell you,” she shot back defiantly. “It’s not a high point of my life. You saw how desperate I was to leave it behind. We met on a curb; that should tell you all yo
u need to know.”

  “Fair enough,” Davis conceded. “Know that Indigo Bay is happy to have you. You’re welcome here as long as you like.”

  “Thanks.” She grinned. “How did you get to be such a nice guy? It must be exhausting always running in and saving the day for a damsel in distress.”

  “You are a full time job so far,” he joked but then fell serious. “Actually, I don’t think you’re a damsel in distress at all, Elaine. I don’t think you need a knight to come slay your dragon; all you need is a sword of your own. I’m happy to help with that.”

  “Damn,” she said, her hand covering her face as she leaned out the window, her hair blowing wildly.

  “What?” he asked, wondering if he’d done something wrong.

  “You’re good, Davis Mills.” She laughed loudly, though it was eaten up by the wind. “You are one of the very good ones.”

  Chapter 7

  “I can practically hear the gears of the rumor mill being greased right now,” Elaine said quietly as she leaned into Davis’s broad shoulder. “The two of us food shopping together. Scandalous.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” he whispered back. “That woman who practically ran up the dairy aisle in her high heels was Lucille. She’s the town busybody, and I guarantee she left her shopping cart where it was and started hitting speed dial to spread the news. She’ll have our wedding planned by the end of the week.”

  “That doesn’t bother you?” Elaine asked, scanning the frozen food section for something that looked remotely like one of the diet meals she normally heated up at the end of the long day.

  “They’ve had me linked to much less attractive women before. You’re far from the worst person I’ve been fake engaged to.”

  “That’s a glowing review,” she teased. “Where is all the healthy food?” she asked, finally starting to open the doors to the frozen food and move things around.

  “What are you talking about? All this food is locally sourced, grown within a hundred miles. Most organic. You can’t get better than this. What are you looking for?”

  “I like these frozen meals that are like three hundred calories. There’s a broccoli one I usually get, but I don’t see anything like that.”

  “And you won’t,” he assured her with a high and mighty grin. “That’s not a real meal. It’s just chemicals molded into the shape of food. You can’t actually enjoy those.”

  “I don’t,” she admitted, rolling her eyes. “But I do enjoy not having to buy bigger clothes every month. I enjoy not having to turn the oven on when I get home at ten at night. My job”—she hesitated remembering how her life had changed—“my old job had me out all hours of the day and night. I could have grabbed takeout and greasy food like most of the guys, but I probably wouldn’t have had a job much longer.”

  “Why not?” Davis asked, stopping the cart abruptly and twisting his face up, seeming to know the answer already. “You had to be skinny to work there?”

  “An unwritten rule at my particular firm. You’re working with clients every day, you’re the face of the firm. There is a certain expectation. I consider myself a feminist. It insulted the heck out of me, but some games have rules, and if you want to win, you play by them.”

  “That’s ridiculous; some of the best women I’ve known in my life were curvy. Some were short, some wore overalls. Any boss that makes you count your calories is an idiot.”

  “That we can agree on. My boss was an idiot. But it doesn’t matter now because I don’t work there anymore. The only thing that matters now is what kind of flowers Mrs. Donavan wants me to trim. I’ll tie whatever ribbon she needs into bows. Maybe she’ll keep me so busy I won’t be able to run in the mornings anymore. Which means I’d still like to get some of those low calorie meals.”

  “Maybe stop counting your calories and start counting your blessings,” a nasally voice called from over her shoulder.

  “Lucille,” Davis laughed as he flashed a warm smile. “I thought I saw you in the dairy aisle. How are you?”

  “Who cares how I’m doing?” she replied quickly, waving him off and keeping her eyes fixed possessively on Elaine. “How are you two doing? What are you two doing? Why are you doing it?”

  “That’s a lot of questions, Lucille,” Davis said, grabbing some more items off the shelf and hardly sparing the old nosy woman the one thing she was craving. Attention. “This is Elaine. She’s new in town. I’m guessing you’ve heard about her from Caroline by now. Or maybe Mrs. Donavan. You have no shortage of operatives here in Indigo Bay.”

  “Hmm,” Lucille said, as if he were holding back the good stuff. “Our network is very thorough. But we’re always looking for the latest updates. Straight from the horse’s mouth if we can get it.”

  “I don’t hear anyone neighing over here,” Davis said, looking up and down the aisle sarcastically.

  Lucille was not impressed. “I heard she rolled in during the middle of the night without a penny to her name and looking like a hot mess. But you swooped in and saved the day.”

  “Not exactly,” Davis corrected, and Elaine stayed quiet. “But she will be coming to stay in my spare room for a few days. Dallas had a cabin for her but the last storm knocked a tree through the roof.”

  “How lucky,” Lucille sang out, clapping her hands together in excitement.

  “I’m guessing Dallas doesn’t think so,” Davis corrected, clearly loving this banter.

  “Dallas’s bad luck is your good fortune. But what brings you to the supermarket?”

  “I’m picking up some nails and lumber,” he teased. “I’m going to see if they have a carburetor for my old truck.”

  “You’re going to make her dinner aren’t you?” Lucille took an intrusive inventory of the items in his cart and nodded her approval.

  “The girl’s got to eat,” Davis said matter-of-factly. “What kind of host would I be if I let her starve?”

  “Right,” Lucille sang, her high heels skittering a bit as she hustled to keep up with them. “And it looks like you’re making your mom’s meatloaf?”

  “I am,” Davis confirmed. “You think that’s a good choice? She doesn’t strike me as much of a down-home meatloaf kind of girl, but it’s the recipe I know the best.”

  Elaine giggled as the two of them continued to talk as if she wasn’t there. But she still didn’t speak up.

  Lucille thought it over, her face showing deep deliberation. “I think that would be fine. It’s not particularly romantic. You can light some candles maybe to make up for that. Perhaps make a little salad too. Judging by her figure, or lack of it I should say, I bet she’ll want something green too.”

  “What about dessert?” Elaine interrupted, elbowing her way into the conversation finally. “Do you plan to make anything, because if not I have a recipe that’ll . . .” she hesitated as she thought on it. “Boy I need to borrow some southern sayings if I’m going stick around down here.”

  “The recipe will have you begging for mercy, and you’ll be full as a boot,” Lucille offered seriously. “You’ve got yourself some of the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen. Davis have you seen her hair? It’s like golden spun silk.”

  “Hmm,” Davis said, eying Elaine with a bemused smile. “I hadn’t notice she had hair before this, but now that you mention it, you’re right. It’s very pretty.”

  Lucille slapped his shoulder and grunted in frustration at the pain it caused her own hand. “What are you made of, rocks?”

  “Just in my head,” he replied seriously, knocking on his forehead.

  Lucille turned toward Elaine, looking completely exasperated. “I hope you like a smart aleck because this boy is the worst. You’d think with a face like his and the way he fills out the back of those jeans he’d be dragged down the aisle by now, but no ring on that finger after all this time.”

  “It’s a tragedy of epic proportions,” Elaine said with feigned seriousness. “It’s like having a prize winning pig and leaving him in the ba
rn.”

  “Exactly,” Lucille said, sounding relieved at the common ground they’d found. It seemed to hit her like a sudden ocean wave that she was the butt of their joke. “Oh, well,” she huffed, “aren’t you two the perfect pair? It’s nice to finally see you’ve met a girl who can keep up with you.” Her face was soft and forgiving as she patted his shoulder, and he leaned down to plant a kiss on her cheek.

  “If only you’d give me a chance, Lucille.” He sighed. “If you’d stop breaking my heart, maybe I could find love someday.”

  “Son,” she scolded with a wrinkled finger wagging in his direction, “you and I both know I’m way out of your league.”

  “Goodnight, Lucille,” he said as she scampered away to find her shopping cart. Turning back toward Elaine, he moaned, “Welcome to Indigo Bay, where your business is everyone’s business.”

  “You’re a good sport,” he said, his eyes fixed on her face for a long beat. When the moment grew quiet between them, just long enough to be noticed by them both, he cleared his throat. “So you’re making dessert. Should I be nervous? Is it gluten free, nut free, sugar free, flavor free?”

  “You’ll like it, trust me. If I can remember the recipe,” she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I’ll go round up the ingredients and meet you at the front.” She hurried away and prayed they’d have everything she needed. It had been ages since she made her grandmother’s cream cheese pound cake, but she knew it was just the kind of thing Davis would love.

  By the time she had all the ingredients balancing precariously in her arms, Davis was standing at the front of the store chatting with another group of older women.

  “Oh and speak of the devil,” one of the women cooed as she gestured for all the others to turn. “Her hair is beautiful. Lucille was right.”

  “Thank you,” Elaine said, self-consciously rebalancing the groceries in one arm so she could push her hair back behind her ears. A couple things tumbled to the ground and bounced in every direction. “Oh I’m such a klutz,” she said, scolding herself.