by Olivia Miles
It was almost . . .inspiring.
“Well, it was just an idea,” Claire stammered. “More of a pipe dream really.”
Amelia tipped her head. “How so?”
“Well, a new business costs money,” Claire pointed out, suddenly feeling a little impatient. She glanced back up the stairs, hoping that Hailey wasn’t able to overhear any part of this conversation. She needed to stop fantasizing about things that couldn’t realistically happen and start cleaning up her mess. It started with telling Hailey the truth. After, she needed to find a job. Strike that, she needed to reclaim her life. Amelia style.
“I have money,” Amelia said flatly.
Claire felt her eyes pop. “What? No. No.” She was shaking her head frantically. “I hadn’t meant to ask. I mean, I wasn’t hinting . . .I mean, it was a good idea, but I’m looking for a real job. Well, a paying job. So . . .maybe someday.” Yes, someday. Someday she might have that little shop.
“I know you weren’t asking.” Claire could almost detect Amelia’s eye roll through her shades. “I’m offering. You have a good idea and I need a job. A job I enjoy, something that will keep me very busy. Plus, I’m a whizz on a sewing machine.”
“Really?” Claire could only stare at the woman standing before her, wondering if this was really happening.
“You know those bridesmaids dresses? I made them.”
“You—” Now this was entirely too much. “I thought . . .I guess I just thought . . .”
“That I hated weddings because I was so depressed to be single?” Amelia grinned. “Well, yeah, sort of, but I like to sew. It relaxes me.” She lifted her sunglasses onto her forehead and looked Claire straight in the eye. “So what do you say? Partners?”
Claire could think of a hundred reasons to say no, or at least that she needed some time to think about it, but no matter how many times her heart had been broken or her path had been altered, when something irresistible came along, she wasn’t afraid to recognize it.
***
Claire tied her apron strings tighter on her waist and began foaming the milk for a cappuccino. She was getting better at it; no doubt she’d be an expert by the time she stopped pulling shifts here. If she ever stopped pulling shifts, she thought.
Hailey was kind enough to give her some hours that very afternoon, as if she’d ever doubted her cousin would come through for her, and Claire was grateful for the work. And the chance to keep busy. Even though she’d only been back in Chicago for a day, something was missing. It was with her, weighing heavily, even as she cheerfully took the orders from the customers who lined up at Corner Beanery for their afternoon pick-me-up.
Claire brightened as Lila pushed through the door and beelined for the counter. Claire checked her watch, and despite the heaviness in her heart, grinned at her friend. “I expected you here an hour ago,” she quipped, referring to Lila’s three-o’clock coffee habit. With her advertising agency just down Armitage Avenue in a charming walk-up brownstone, it was easy for Lila to pop in and out of the café when she needed a break. Claire and Hailey always looked forward to her visits, but today, Claire was especially pleased by it.
“Long meeting.” Lila leaned in to the counter as Claire started preparing the next order. “You don’t have to work at the jewelry store today?”
“Oh.” Claire skirted her eyes. “That didn’t work out.”
“Better to know that now,” Lila remarked. She grinned. “It just means something better is waiting for you.”
Claire warmed a little at that thought. It was true, she supposed, that when one opportunity ended, it left the door open for something else.
“How was the weekend up in Door County?”
Claire did her best to keep her expression neutral. In time she’d tell Lila and her sister Mary what had transpired up there, but for today, she needed to forget it. As if that were possible, she thought, feeling her lips thin.
She kept her eyes trained on the machine as she emptied the shot of espresso into a paper cup and added the hot milk. “It’s pretty up there.”
“You know Ethan’s a nice guy. I’ve always liked him. A little misunderstood, if you ask me, though.”
Claire tried not to react when her heart skipped a beat. “Oh?” She kept her tone neutral and light, but it was no use. She could see the glint in Lila’s eyes.
“Oh, you know, he’s all about partying, having a good time, never settling down. But you know what they say . . .”
Claire’s smile felt shaky. “No. What do they say?”
“He who doth protest too much . . .” Lila winked. “Okay, I’m off to place my order. I’ve been dreaming about a double-chocolate chip muffin for two hours.”
Claire grinned a little easier. “One of those days?”
“Monday. I’ve officially reached the point where I’ll be happy to have this wedding behind me. Too many last minute details to worry about on top of too many demanding clients. Let’s just hope the week gets better from here.”
One can hope, Claire thought as she watched her friend walk over to talk to Hailey who was setting out a fresh tray of baked goods at the end of the display case.
The café was jumping this afternoon, Claire noted, and even with the extra seasonal help, she could see that she was needed. Hailey whipped together extra cookies and scones in the kitchen while one of the newer girls manned the counter and Claire worked the espresso machine. She called out order after order, enjoying the pace of it, barely stopping to brush the hair that slipped from her ponytail as the machine hissed and steamed.
“Double Americano!” she called out, not bothering to notice the hand that reached for the paper cup.
“Thanks,” a familiar voice said, and Claire startled, burning her wrist on the contraption, as she looked up to see Ethan. He was smiling at her, but there was uncertainty in his eyes, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.
“I see you came clean to Hailey,” he said, motioning to her apron.
“First thing this morning.” She nodded curtly, hating the clipped tone of her voice. She was being defensive, pushing him away, when all part of her wanted to do was reach out and grab him, go back to the way things used to be.
She looked down at her wrist, noticing the red welt that was starting to form. They could never go back to the way things used to be. As much as she wished they could, too much had happened.
“Ouch.” Ethan winced and reached out to touch her wrist.
Claire pulled it away before he could touch her again. “It’s fine,” she insisted.
“No, it’s not fine,” he said firmly. “You should put some ice on it. Come on, let’s go back to the kitchen.”
She searched his face, trying to keep the emotions from creeping into her voice. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I care,” he said simply.
She swallowed hard, squeezed her aching wrist. “I want to believe that,” she said softly.
“But—”
“Claire!” Claire turned to see Hailey staring at her aghast, her eyes darting from Ethan to her and back again. Her gaze dropped to Claire’s wrist and she leaned in to study it, pulling at Claire’s elbow while asking one of the new girls to fill the coffee orders.
“He’s here, Hailey,” Claire hissed as they pushed through the door to the kitchen. “What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Hailey said, marching over to the freezer to retrieve an ice pack. She handed it to her. “But I suggest you hear him out.” She slid her eyes to the door, where Ethan was standing, still holding the Americano Claire had made for him.
“Why aren’t you at work?” she asked when Hailey went back into the storefront. “It’s only four o’clock.”
“Research.” He grinned. “I met with my boss this morning. The party scene was fun, but I’m ready for something new. You’re looking at the new face of Chicago’s culture scene.”
Claire hated the smile that was quirking the corner of her mouth. It was too easy with Ethan. T
oo tempting to fall back onto old ways.
“Culture?” She looked at him doubtfully. “Like plays and museums?”
“And coffee shops,” he said. He sighed and set the drink down. “Okay, not coffee shops. I’m here because I couldn’t wait, Claire. I didn’t like how we left things off yesterday.”
“Neither did I,” she admitted, feeling her thick voice betraying her. “I miss our friendship. I suppose I always will. But I don’t think we can go back to the way things were.”
“Me either,” he said, catching her by surprise.
Claire pinched her lips, her anger making her forget all about the throbbing pain shooting up to her elbow. “Well, then why are you here?”
“To tell you I don’t want to be your friend, Claire. Maybe I never did. I just didn’t dare to try for more. Until this weekend.” He took a step toward her, and her heart began to pound, trying to understand what he was saying.
“But Kimberly.”
Ethan brushed a hand through the air. “Kimberly hurt me. I won’t deny that. But my feelings for her were more about the loss than the hope of getting back together. For the record, I didn’t sleep with you to take my mind off her. I wanted to be with you, Claire. I still do.”
“Ethan.” Claire shook her head, trying to make sense of this. “You’re my best friend.”
“And you’re mine,” he said, reaching down to take her hands, ice pack and all.
“And what if it doesn’t work out?” The pain of the last two days was still with her. “I don’t know if I can go through the feeling of losing you again.”
“Maybe we never have to. But we won’t know unless we try.” He pushed the ice pack onto her wrist, holding it there, and then looked deep into her eyes. “I don’t know what will happen to us, Claire. All I know is that I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I can’t walk out that door without making sure you know it, and that I’ve tried.”
Claire stopped blinking back her tears now and instead let them fall. She didn’t bother to fight him when he set his hands around her waist and pulled her close. He felt warm and familiar and like where she was supposed to be. Where she wanted to be.
“Promise me nothing will change?” she asked, looking up into his eyes.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her hair and leaned down to kiss her mouth. “Oh things will change, honey. But only for the better. Only for the better.”
Epilogue
“I still can’t believe you’re going into business with Amelia,” Ethan marveled as he looked around the empty storefront that would soon be transformed into something magical enough to make Claire giddy with excitement.
It was hard to believe they were opening in a week. There was still so much to do: the dressing rooms needed to be finished, the three-way vintage mirrors set up, and there were still at least two dozen sample veils to be sewn. Still, in the three months since she and Amelia had first sat down and brainstormed, a lot had been accomplished. Claire felt the urge to pinch herself. It really was almost too good to be true.
“Is it so hard to believe?” Claire asked, as she popped the lid on a can of creamy, pale blue paint that would cover the walls of Something Borrowed. She and Amelia had come up with the name of the store during one of their many weekly meetings, deciding that Something Old just didn’t send the same message, even if it might be a bit more accurate.
“No, well, yes.” Ethan grinned. “Who knows, maybe you guys will expand and open a second shop in Grey Harbor.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself there,” Claire said, setting a hand on his chest as she pushed past him to the big bay window where she imagined three mannequins showing off their latest collection. “But stranger things have happened,” she said, turning over her shoulder to give him a slow grin.
Amelia came in through the back office, sneezing at the dust. “I’m afraid I can’t stay late tonight, if that’s all right.”
Claire looked at her with interest. “Another date with the mystery man?”
Amelia blushed and tried to busy herself by counting satin padded clothes hangers, even though they’d just counted them this morning, and knew there to be exactly ten dozen.
“When are you going to tell us his name?” Ethan asked. He brushed a strip of paint near the window frame and lifted an eyebrow at Claire for approval.
Claire nodded. It was perfect. Like everything else about the store, thus far. Oh, she knew that it wouldn’t always be an easy road, but then, nothing in life was. And sometimes, the best things were the ones worth fighting for. She looked at Ethan, feeling her heart melt just a little.
“It’s still new,” Amelia huffed impatiently. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”
Claire and Ethan exchanged secret smiles as she stood to help him edge the wall. A lot had changed in three months. And all for the better, so far. Amelia was dating, and taking it slow, not going all in at once like she had in that past. Ethan’s cultural column was even a bigger success than the social beat, and there was talk of him being up for assistant editor by the year end . . .right around the time their new condo would be ready for occupancy. As much as Claire knew Hailey would appreciate having her apartment to herself again, both girls would secretly miss being roommates. Something told Claire they might never have the chance again.
“Well, I’m off,” Amelia said, setting the hangers to the side and slinging her oversized handbag over a shoulder.
“Have fun!” Claire called out.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” warned Ethan jovially.
Amelia stopped at the door and nailed her brother with a hard look. “Which would basically mean everything, at this point. You’ve turned into pretty much the least exciting guy there is.”
“Hey, there’s nothing boring about being happy,” he said wisely, and Amelia just rolled her eyes and pushed into the door with her hip, but she was smiling as she walked past the window a moment later, her arm held high to hail a passing a cab.
“So you’re happy then, are you?” Claire asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the wall and the pretty blue paint that was slowly transforming the space, making it her own.
“Never thought it would happen, did you?” Ethan stopped painting long enough for her to turn and look at him properly.
He already had a streak of paint on his cheek and another above his eyebrow, but Claire didn’t bother to point it out. This was exactly how she wanted to always think of him, at her side, supporting her dreams, not afraid to get a little dirty doing it. “You and me? Never thought it possible, honestly.”
Ethan set his brush down and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. “Anything is possible, honey. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
See the next page for a preview of Book #2 in the Sweeter in the City series
SWEETER THAN SUNSHINE
Chapter One
Mary Harris liked to say there was an ice cream flavor for everyone. Her sister, Lila: mint chocolate chip. Her soon to be brother-in-law, Sam: cookies and cream. Her friend Hailey who ran the best café in Lincoln Park? Coffee bean, of course. And her ex, Jason, who had ceremoniously dumped her on New Year’s Eve via text message and then had the nerve to suggest she cross the “friendship bridge” when she told him, also via text, where to go . . .He was straight up rocky road.
Mary sighed as she poured the cream, sugar, and vanilla into the ice cream machine. It was another quiet afternoon in the shop, and there had been too many of those lately. She’d prepared herself for a slow winter; after all, who really craved ice cream when it was ten below zero with three feet of snow on the ground? Spring was just around the corner—technically—but the forecast was calling for another eight inches by tonight, and the snowflakes had been falling steadily since daybreak. She should know, because she’d been up since then, trying to occupy herself with things like making coffee and watching a little morning television—anything to get her mind off that nagging thought: Had all this been a mista
ke?
She blinked away the question just as quickly as it formed. Ridiculous! Running Sunshine Creamery was the only job she’d ever loved—the only thing she’d ever really been passionate about, ever since she was a little girl sitting in the corner booth, watching her grandfather make waffle cones.
So things were slow. So her frozen eggnog and candy cane ice cream flavors had only been popular during the holidays . . .It was only a winter slump. She should embrace it. Use the time to come up with ten fun flavors for spring, maybe create some new signs for the windows, or just take a few weeks to relax. She hadn’t done that in a while. In fact, Jason had said she didn’t do it at all, or at least that was the excuse he’d given for breaking up with her when she’d finally dragged one out of him.
Mary sunk a spoon deep into a tub of raspberry chocolate truffle ice cream and brought it to her mouth. Savoring the sweet, smooth taste, she stared out the window as the snow continued to pelt the glass and coat the sidewalks. She had to admit, it was pretty, the way the tree branches were frocked, and the fire hydrants seemed to wear perfect white hats. But come tomorrow, when the city’s traffic had taken its toll, the white and sparkling wonderland would be replaced with brown, murky slush, and grumpy Chicago residents who, like herself, were just ready for spring already!
The streetlight turned, and as the walk sign appeared, a kid darted across the street, straight toward her door. Mary guiltily dropped the spoon in the sink and straightened her shoulders, feeling downright embarrassed for her little burst of self-pity. She smiled eagerly as the boy pulled the door open and stepped inside, brushing snow from his hair as he glanced around the painfully empty room.
“Hello!” Mary said from behind the counter. From the smoothness of his cheeks to the weather-inappropriate canvas sneakers he wore, she pegged him to be around sixteen, seventeen at the most. Cookies and cream, she decided, and then waited to see if her hunch was right.
Instead the kid looked at her and asked, “Restroom?”
