“Me, too.” Lori sighed. Maybe she and Summer had more in common than Lori first thought, despite the silver stud in the younger girl’s nose and the butterfly tattoo adorning her wrist. Hadn’t the youth group at the church taught her that much? Besides, at this point Lori had nothing to lose. Maybe telling Summer about her embarrassment would lift the burden a little. “I just made a huge mistake.”
“Who hasn’t?” Summer shrugged and leaned against the counter, bracing her elbows against the top.
“A really embarrassing mistake.”
“Again, who hasn’t?” Summer slipped her iPod into the pocket of her jeans. “You’re starting to bore me, Boss.” She winked, lightening the harsh words, and suddenly Lori couldn’t wait to pour out her story.
When she finished, Summer nodded slowly. “You were right.”
“About what?” Lori frowned.
“That was a really huge, really embarrassing mistake.”
Lori laughed despite the fact that nothing had changed. “Told you.” Amazing how much better she felt wallowing with someone instead of alone.
“Here.” Summer stretched over and hit a few keys on the register. The drawer popped open, and she removed the key to the glass display at their knees. “You need chocolate.”
“I can’t—I mean, that’s not ours to take,” Lori protested in vain as Summer slid open the case and plucked two cherry bonbons from a lace doily.
“Take it out of my paycheck, Boss, if it’s that big a deal.” Summer closed the door, handed Lori the dessert and laid the key back on the register.
Lori stared at the piece in her hand, made a mental note to pay for it the next day and popped the chocolate into her mouth. She chewed slowly, closing her eyes and letting the flavors dissolve on her tongue. “Wow, that’s good.”
“You hadn’t had one yet?”
Lori shook her head, mouth full of cherry crème.
Summer made a tsk noise. “They’re Monny’s specialty.”
The candy dried in her mouth, and Lori had to force herself to swallow. “Great.”
“The man can cook. Might be a lousy coworker, leading you on the way he did, but he can cook.”
“You really think he led me on? I didn’t imagine all that?” Hope tottered at the edges of Lori’s heart. Maybe she hadn’t been desperate after all—maybe she’d been deceived instead of stupid.
Summer tilted her head to one side and bit into the second half of her bonbon. “Not all of it.”
“But some.”
“Yes, some.”
They chewed in silence.
“I don’t understand. He flirted with me.” Lori shifted on her stool, feeling even more ridiculous for discussing her love life with a college-aged stranger. Somehow, though, Summer seemed like the last person who’d pass judgment. “You noticed it, right?”
“Sure I did. But did you not notice him calling most of the women customers ‘my dear’ and flashing that Italian smile all over the place?”
No. Lori fought the urge to grab another piece of chocolate. “I’m a bigger dork than I thought.”
“Don’t feel bad. It could have happened to anyone.” Summer brushed her hands on her back pockets. “Guys like Monny are just that way. They don’t think about how we interpret things. There’s a dude in my psych class who did the same thing to my best friend. Chatted her up like he was interested, then went out with someone else in the class days later.”
“But Monny has a fiancée. That’s not a date—that’s a serious commitment.” But even as the words left her lips, Lori realized she’d made his flirtations into something more than he intended. She was so desperate to get Andy to notice her she’d invented a fill-in for Mr. Right in her own mind.
Poor Monny.
Lori scowled at the dying flower bouquet. Probably the heat from the kitchen had wilted them faster than usual. It figured that she couldn’t even enjoy them longer. But now their presence was more annoying than pleasant. If it hadn’t been for those gifts arriving, she would have never taken things so far in her mind with Monny. But if not him, then who? The bouquet was real. So was the silly little Hershey’s Kiss stuffed in her purse under the counter. Speaking of which, she should probably burn the thing. Every time she saw it, she’d remember the achingly awkward moment when Monny had looked at her with stark confusion in his eyes. Her face flamed with the memory.
“Forget about Monny. He won’t hold it against you. It’s embarrassing, but at least you were turning him down and not throwing yourself at him.” Summer touched the brittle petals of the arrangement, wincing as one broke off onto the counter.
True. If Lori had been accepting Monny’s offer—well, imaginary offer—she would have been a lot more embarrassed.
“You should focus on whoever out there is your secret admirer. It’s still pretty cool to have one.” Summer shrugged.
“You’re right.” Lori stood, the legs of the stool screeching against the tile floor. The awkward moment of the past was over, and someone out there actually did have a thing for her. She could still enjoy the gifts even if she didn’t intend on reciprocating. The mystery of “what if” was pretty romantic—and for a girl destined to be alone like her, it was probably as good as it was going to get.
One thing was certain: she’d be absolutely positive next time before accusing any more unsuspecting men of loving her.
Summer slapped her palm against the countertop. “No more moping around. I think we should do a little detective work and try to figure out who’s behind the gifts. What do you say?”
Lori picked up the display key Summer had left on the register and shot her new friend a grin. “I say, who wants more chocolate?”
His genius plan apparently wasn’t quite as genius as he first imagined.
Andy tossed the basketball toward the goal at the end of the gym. It bounced off the rim—figured. Sort of like it figured Lori hadn’t called yet. And why should she—because he sent her a stuffed piece of candy and some chocolate? If she believed her secret admirer to be that foreign baker, he might as well give up now. Who was Andy compared to a suave Italian who could whip up her dream dessert in minutes? No wonder she was practically shoving him out the door when he stopped by. She wanted to be alone with the chef.
He shot again and missed. Definitely not on his game today.
“It’s all in the wrist, Pastor.” Jeremy held out his hands for the ball. “Watch a pro.”
Andy bounced the ball across the wooden floor to him, and Jeremy easily nailed a three-pointer. “Come on now—I thought you were a football player.”
“I’m an athlete.” Jeremy dribbled twice before shooting again. “We’re naturals at all sports.”
“My mistake.” Andy shot and missed a second time. “I’m too old for this.” And distracted. But that was hardly an excuse not to keep up with a high-schooler—though Jeremy did have at least four inches on him.
Andy checked the ball back to him, and Jeremy shot again. Nothing but net.
“Nah, you’re not too old.” Jeremy spun the ball on the tip of his finger. “Maybe too old for football. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt, Pastor.” He grinned.
“Very funny.” Andy pulled one arm in a stretch over his head. Goofing around in the gym with one of his youth-group members was much better than sulking in his office, staring at the budget proposal he’d yet to complete and wondering what to do next about Lori.
Yet thoughts of her still managed to creep into his mind. She obviously hadn’t linked him to the Hershey’s Kisses, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized Gracie was right. Too subtle. He didn’t want to be so obvious with his gifts that Lori felt rushed into a relationship with him, but at the same time, he had to somehow let her know the giver wasn’t Monny. At this point, he was almost tempted to get tips from the guy. Weren’t Europeans all naturally romantic? Women thought so, anyway—and romance was definitely not Andy’s specialty.
Yet something about Lori made him want to try.
Plus, Andy was running out of time. Last Sunday, Pastor Mike had casually mentioned setting Andy up with his niece. There was no way he would even consider getting involved with someone in the senior staff’s family. Talk about a disaster waiting to happen.
No, the sooner he could show the staff he was taking their request seriously and find his own girlfriend, the better—for the church and for the youth group, not to mention for his own sanity. It was hard to devote his full energy to the kids with this kind of pressure hanging over his head like a cloud over a parade. In this case, the parade was his life—and Andy was getting a little tired of the rain.
The basketball whizzed past his head, and Andy blinked. “Hey!”
“Focus is key in sports, Pastor.” Jeremy wiped his face with the neck of his jersey. “Or at least that’s what Coach says.”
Andy jogged to retrieve the ball. “Your coach is right.”
“Then where’s your head?”
Nowhere that he could share. The last thing Andy needed was the youth group rallying for him and Lori to get together. Her rejection would be hard enough to take without an audience. Andy shrugged and aimed for the backboard.
“You’re thinking about Lori, aren’t you?”
The ball slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. “What?”
“Haley told me.” Jeremy scooped up the abandoned ball and tucked it under his arm.
“She promised she wouldn’t tell.” Andy rammed his fingers against his pulsing temples as frustration clouded his vision. He couldn’t believe Haley had gone against her word like that. He shouldn’t have trusted her with something so personal. What if Lori found out sooner than he intended? Panic gripped his stomach, and he swallowed the nerves creeping up his throat.
“Don’t worry, when Haley got to the part about promising to keep it a secret, I got mad at her for telling me. But she said boyfriends didn’t count as anyone.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Women.”
No kidding. Now what was he going to do?
“I won’t say anything, Pastor. Relationships are private, I get that. Haley tells enough people about our business.” Jeremy sighed. “Though I guess that’s what I get for being in love with a high-school kid.”
Andy bit back the retort forming about Jeremy being a high-school kid himself. “I’d appreciate your keeping it quiet. You don’t really understand what all is at stake here.”
“Hey, it’s about a woman, Pastor. I think I understand as much as any guy can.” Jeremy tossed him the ball and laughed.
Andy clamped his sweaty palms around the ball’s hard, bumpy surface. Pointless to argue—he couldn’t exactly tell Jeremy about the senior pastor’s request. Now Andy had a second clock ticking a warning in his ears. What if it was too late? Word was spreading, and since she hadn’t called, Lori obviously wasn’t ready to reciprocate his feelings—even though she seemed more than willing to do so with Monny’s.
The gym seemed to close in on Andy, and he shook the damp hair out of his eyes. He had to step it up a notch. Maybe send gifts more often, give better hints. If his competition was a foreign charmer with really great hair, then romance was going to be key. It was all in the details.
And no one knew Lori better than he did.
Andy drew a deep breath and lobbed the basketball toward the net. Swish.
Maybe he still had a chance after all.
Chapter Eight
“I’m never dating again.”
“Don’t give up. It’s only been a few days—we’ll figure out who your mystery man is. Be patient. I’ll come up with something.” Summer looked up from rummaging through a bargain bin of purses. “And here I thought I was negative.”
Lori checked the price on the bottom of a pink high-heeled pump and winced before setting it back on the shelf. “I’m not negative. I’m realistic. And while we’re waiting to figure it out, Monny’s avoiding me like I have Ebola or something.”
“He’s probably trying not to give you the wrong idea again.” Summer brushed her fingers against a purple feather boa that was part of a display.
“Maybe I should talk to Monny.” Lori sighed. “I don’t want work to be awkward because of a silly misunderstanding.”
“When does he go back to Italy?”
“Not for a few months.”
“Bummer.” Summer scowled at a pair of boots. “Why did you bring me here again? This place is too girlie. Nothing but shoes and purses.”
“Exactly. You need some color in your life.” Lori handed her a pink purse. “Here. Valentine’s Day is in two weeks. This would be great.”
Summer ducked away from the bag as if it were going to consume her. “No way! I don’t do pink. And I definitely don’t do Valentine’s Day.”
“You need to do something other than black. You come across so hard and unapproachable.”
“Thanks, Boss.”
“You know what I mean.” Lori dropped the pink tote and snagged a gold purse with blue stitching from the same bin. “What about this one?”
Summer’s eyebrows knitted together, but she didn’t run away. “Better.” She looped the purse over her shoulder and stood beside the store’s full-length mirror. “What do you think?”
“Perfect. Picks up the glint in your eyebrow ring.”
Summer laughed and threw the purse at Lori. “Forget it.”
“Maybe this isn’t your kind of store after all.” A pair of black-and-white polka-dot stilettos caught Lori’s eye across the store. “But it’s definitely mine.”
“You could easily run a shop like this.”
Lori picked up the polka-dotted sandal on display and searched the pile of boxes for her size. “I used to want to.”
“Used to? Has working at the Chocolate Gator changed your mind?”
Lori tugged a size-nine box free from the stack and sat down to try them on. “It’s made me realize I’m not cut out for managing.”
Summer leaned against the shelf of shoes and scoffed. “Whatever. You figured out the coffee machine finally.”
“Most days, anyway.” Lori blew a wisp of hair out of her eyes and held up her foot to admire the sandal. “But it’s more than the coffee machine. The customers haven’t warmed up to me yet. I can’t bake, and I don’t know how many things I burned or messed up in the last two weeks.”
“So baking isn’t your forte. Big whoop.” Summer planted one hand against her jeans-clad hip, her black fingernails standing out against the bleach-washed denim. “Who says you have to open a bakery? You’re a shoe girl anyway.”
“How’d you know?”
“Besides the fact that you’ve worn uncomfortable heels every day to work and currently are up to your elbows in shoe boxes?”
“Yeah, besides that.”
“And the fact that your purse has matched your shoes in some form every day?”
“Maybe it is a little obvious.”
“And—”
“Okay, okay, I get it!” Lori slid the sandal off her foot and stuck it back inside its cardboard home. “But wearing shoes doesn’t make me qualified to open a shoe store. Besides, I’d never have the money to do that.”
Summer rolled her eyes. “It’s called going to a bank.”
“Banks like a little thing called good credit. Of which I have very little due to maxed-out credit cards and a few late payments.” Lori pressed her lips together. It was her own fault. She’d done well enough at the aquarium the last few years but had grown bored. She wanted something new and exciting, an adventure. She wanted to be spontaneous and see what the world had to offer. So she got wind of a receptionist opening at a big law firm uptown, had a successful interview, gave two weeks’ notice, and voilà—unemployed. She’d been living off her credit card before going to work for Andy’s aunt, and even now, she still didn’t have a permanent job. Once Bella returned from Shreveport, she’d take over, and Lori would be back to searching the classifieds.
While her dreams of opening her own boutique dwindled
faster than her savings account.
“I’m just saying I think you could do it.” Summer held up a pair of red ballet flats and grimaced. “Even if you did sell stuff like this.”
Lori slid her feet into her own shoes and put the red flats and the polka-dotted heels back on the shelf. “Well, thanks for your vote of confidence, but I can’t even begin to think about opening my own store if I can’t handle running the Chocolate Gator.”
They headed toward the shop doors. Why was everything going wrong at Bella’s store? Lori had successfully managed the gift shop at the Aquarium of the Americas and never had any trouble. In hindsight, she should have stayed there. But there was no advancement in that position, no career-ladder climbing. Just stocking and ordering and standing behind a counter all day.
If she was destined to be alone all her life, she wanted to at least have a successful, enjoyable career.
Summer pushed open the glass door, and Lori followed, casting one last look over her shoulder at the shoes she left behind. She wasn’t about to waste her first paycheck on more footwear—even if they were on sale. Food came first.
“Can we swing back by the shop before you go home?” Summer squinted against the fading winter sun and shaded her eyes with her hand.
“Sure. Did you forget something?”
“My jacket. Since the shop is closed tomorrow, I might need it.”
“No problem.”
The store was shut up tight for the coming weekend. Lori was glad Bella kept the shop closed on Sunday. She’d hate to miss church tomorrow because of work. She slid her key into the lock and flipped the light switch.
Summer edged past Lori and snagged her jacket from behind the counter. “Wow, it’s cold back here.” She shivered.
“It feels fine by the door.” Lori stepped farther into the shop with a frown. “That’s weird. The heater should have been on all day.”
Summer backed toward the kitchen. “It’s even worse over here.” She slipped her arms into her jacket sleeves and pushed open the swinging kitchen door. “Uh-oh.”
A Valentine's Wish Page 6
