Maybe We Will (Silver Harbor)

by Melissa Foster

  “For your house or for the Bistro?”

  “Either. It would be cool to have a conversation pit like that at home, but we’ve been so worried about the restaurant, I haven’t even talked with my sisters about what we’re doing with my mom’s house yet.”

  “How about at the patio of the Bistro?”

  “There’s a restaurant on the Cape that has that type of setup with the couches and a firepit out front, and customers love having drinks there and listening to the musicians they bring in.”

  “Couldn’t you do that at the Bistro?”

  Her brow furrowed. “My parents never had live music, but I guess we could think about doing it next year. I’ve got my hands full getting the restaurant up and running. There’s so much to do. Finding musicians—much less affording them—and coming up with schedules is more than I can handle at the moment.”

  “That sounds like a good plan.” He was glad she knew her limits.

  “Aiden, look.” She hurried across the room toward a set of stunning rattan café chairs and tables with simple yet elegant designs, which looked like they belonged in a French café. “These are similar to what my dad used when I was growing up.” She ran her hands along the frame and scanned the information tag. “They’re commercial grade, handwoven, and they’re artisan-crafted in Paris! I need these. They’re perfect!” she said giddily.

  “I’ve got to admit, they’d really spruce up the place for the visit from the competition judges, which would work in your favor.”

  Confusion rose in her eyes. “What do you mean? I didn’t enter, remember?”

  “I know.” He slipped his hands into his pockets and said, “But I might have entered on your behalf. I didn’t want you to miss the deadline.”

  “Aiden!” she snapped, quickly looking around to see if anyone heard her.

  Aiden waved off the salesman and said, “We’re okay over here.”

  “We are not okay over here!” Abby waggled her finger at him, speaking in a harsh whisper. “Why did you do that after I said I wanted to wait a year?”

  “Because after tasting your cooking, I knew you could win.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Really?” She must have realized she was smiling, because she scowled again. “That’s no reason to go behind my back.”

  “I’m sorry, babe, but I believe in you, and the free exposure could be the difference between making it your first season and going under.”

  “I cannot believe you did that.” She crossed her arms, her lips forming a tight line.

  “I’m sorry I overstepped.” He put his hand on her hip and, in a more serious tone, said, “But, Abby, I work with growing businesses every day, and I know what it takes to build a brand and a reputation. You want to re-create what your parents had, and with you at the helm, the Bistro has a real chance of succeeding. But you can only get so far without the right tools to back you up, including the far reach of marketing that the competition has to offer.”

  Her expression softened, but her eyes narrowed. “Does this have anything to do with one-upping Wells?”

  “No,” he said sharply, realizing how badly his idea had backfired. Abby wasn’t a business associate, and he shouldn’t have treated her like one. “This has everything to do with wanting to see you succeed. It’s not just you anymore, babe. Deirdra and Cait are investing, too, and you know they’re investing in you more than they are in the Bistro. I know you don’t want to let them down, so why not pull out all the stops? Win that competition and work up a finite budget that includes your staffing, overhead, maintenance, and all the other costs, and then spend your money in the right places.” He cocked a grin and said, “Beating Wells is the icing on the cake.”

  She sighed heavily, but the light in her eyes was slowly returning. “You really think I have a chance at winning? You haven’t even eaten at the other restaurants on the island, and you’ve only tasted my cooking once.”

  “I’ve eaten at enough restaurants to know you can win.”

  “Fine,” she relented. “Since you’ve already entered me, I’ll do it. But I’m paying you back every penny of that entry fee.”

  He gathered her in his arms, relief pushing away the tension between them as he said, “I can think of plenty of creative ways for you to pay me back.” He kissed her lips. “Like that.” His hand slid down her back, and he squeezed her ass. “And that,” he said, earning a genuine smile.

  “You’re so bad,” she said heatedly.

  “You haven’t seen bad yet.” He lowered his lips to hers, taking her in a tender kiss, and said, “Am I forgiven?”

  “Yes, but don’t step on my toes again. I need to be in control of my own business decisions.”

  “I respect that, and again, I’m sorry I went behind your back.”

  She stepped out of his arms and ran her hand along the back of a chair. “These really are perfect, aren’t they?” She turned the price tag over and cringed.

  “Steep?”

  “Yeah.” Her face pinched in concentration.

  “I have lots of contacts. I bet I can get you a few sets at wholesale prices.”

  Anguish rose in her eyes. “I appreciate that, but I was really hoping to buy local. Now that I’m going to be living here full-time, I want to support other small businesses. You know, I scratch their backs, they scratch mine.”

  “That’s an admirable goal, Abs. I don’t know your financial situation, but I know about business, and overpaying is never wise. Especially at this stage of the game. You’re likely to incur a lot of other unanticipated costs, like the oven unit needing to be replaced.”

  “I know. I’ve been thinking about that, and I think I can get away without replacing the oven right away. I have two, and that should be doable.”

  “Not for maximum efficiency,” he said, immediately regretting it. The closer they became, the more difficult it was to bite his tongue.

  She planted her hand on her hip, lifting her chin defiantly. “Sometimes you have to cut corners in the places customers don’t see in order to beef up the areas they do.”

  “Abs, didn’t you just agree that it was a good idea to come up with a budget and then spend your money?”

  “Yes, and I will. After I buy these chairs. This is my decision, remember?”

  He held his hands up in surrender and said, “Yes. You’re right.”

  “Thank you.”

  While his unsolicited advice might have been out of line, he wasn’t going to let her bury her dreams before they even got started. “You can buy them right after I talk to the owner or salesman and negotiate a better price. Markups in these places are astronomical.”

  “You are so . . .” She shook her head.

  “Helpful?”

  She rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “If this is what you did every time Remi made a decision, I can see why she pushed you to get your own life.”

  “Ouch.” Aiden put his hands over his heart, although she wasn’t wrong.

  “That’s not what I meant.” She reached for his hand, holding it as she said, “You talk about my big heart, but you can’t even bear the idea of letting me do something that you think might be a mistake.”

  “That’s not my heart talking; it’s good business. I don’t mix business with pleasure.” At least I never used to.

  Heat sparked in her eyes, and she said, “Your creative debt-repayment options say otherwise.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Aiden had ordered a hammock, and Abby was the proud owner of six sets of bistro chairs with matching tables, which she’d scheduled to have delivered the week before the judging for the competition.

  “I still can’t believe you got twenty-five percent off!” she said excitedly, putting the receipt in her purse. “You’re amazing, Aiden. I never would have thought to try to negotiate the price at a place like that.”

  “Don’t forget, I threw in free dinner for him and his family once a month over the summer.”

  “I got a great deal
on the perfect chairs. I’ll feed him every day if I need to.”

  “No, you won’t.” Her stern look made him realize his mistake, and he said, “I mean, you might want to rethink that after you work up your budget.”

  “Maybe I will.” She smiled and said, “I know you don’t mix business with pleasure, and I can be stubborn, but would you mind helping me with the budget?” Before he could respond, she wrapped her arms around his waist, went up on her toes, and whispered, “I promise to pay only with pleasure.”

  As he lowered his lips to hers, he said, “Exception made.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  ON THE WAY to Top of the Island Vineyard, Abby silently picked apart her conversation with Aiden about the chairs. She felt bad for getting upset when he’d only been looking out for her, even if he had overstepped by signing her up for the competition. He hadn’t done it maliciously or for his gain, even if she wished he’d talked to her about it first. It had been so long since anyone had supported her like that, she’d had a knee-jerk reaction. She couldn’t get over how vehemently he believed in her, and she worried she’d sounded ungrateful. A knot formed in her stomach as he parked in front of the cedar and brick winery.

  He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “You okay? You’re pretty quiet.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  He grabbed their sweaters from the back seat and came around to help her out of the car. “It’s gorgeous here,” he said, putting an arm around her.

  The vineyard was located at one of the highest points on the island and gave way to miles of beautiful landscape, with roads snaking through cottage developments and cliffs that fell away to the deep blue sea. The late-afternoon sun illuminated the vineyards. The vines were bare but still beautiful. Abby wished he were going to be there later in the summer, when the vineyards would burgeon with bright green leaves and bundles of juicy grapes.

  He turned a warm gaze to her, and his smile faded. “Aw, babe. What are those shadows in your eyes? You’re not okay, are you?”

  “You really do see everything,” she said softly. “I feel horrible for the way I reacted at the store. I’m sorry I got so defensive. I’m used to doing everything on my own, making all of my own decisions—good or bad—and I guess I have a bit of a chip on my shoulder because of having to defend myself to Deirdra.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. You were right, Abs. I overstepped. It’s a bad habit of mine. I have a hard time stepping back when it comes to business and the people I care about. I’ll try to keep my opinions to myself.”

  “No, I don’t want that. It’s been a long time since anyone looked after me in the way you did by entering me in the competition and trying to get me to make a smarter financial decision and wait to buy the chairs. Deirdra is protective, but like a big sister—it’s a duty born of love, but a duty just the same. And Shelley watched after us, but more like an aunt making sure we didn’t starve. She was always careful not to step on our mom’s toes or interfere too much. I love that you believe in me, but I’m not used to having someone watch out for me because they want to, not because they feel like they have to.”

  He tossed the sweaters on the hood of the car and embraced her. “Sounds like we both have something to learn.” He looked encouragingly into her eyes and said, “Maybe we can help each other. I know myself, and I’m sure to slip up again and overstep.”

  “And I’ll probably go off on you.”

  He waggled his brows.

  “Thank God you have a sense of humor. I’m sorry if I came off as a bitch back there.”

  He lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers. “You weren’t. You were a fierce businesswoman who doesn’t need some old know-it-all stepping on her toes. What do you say, Abs? Do you want to try to navigate this unfamiliar bumpy terrain with me and see if two slightly stubborn people can find a comfortable middle ground?”

  “Yes. I’d like that a whole lot.”

  He kissed her slow and sweet, and then he grabbed their sweaters and they headed inside for their tour. They were greeted with rich hardwood floors, warm wood and stone walls, and an exuberant, “Abby, Aiden!” from Shelley as she popped out from behind a display of wineglasses.

  Shelley wore pretty black slacks and a floral blouse, and she was carrying Hadley, Jock and Daphne’s adorable honey-haired daughter, who was clutching a stuffed owl in her hand. She hurried over to them.

  “Hi, Shelley,” Abby said.

  Aiden said, “It’s nice to see you again, Shelley.”

  “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.” Abby looked at them curiously.

  “Aiden came in to schedule your visit,” Shelley explained. “Abby, you remember my beautiful granddaughter, Hadley.”

  “Of course,” Abby said. She had met Hadley over the holidays, when Leni had told her how Daphne’s little girl had brought Daphne and Jock together and his love for them had helped him mend a ten-year rift with his twin brother, Archer.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” Abby said. “Do you remember me?”

  Hadley buried her face in Shelley’s neck.

  “She’s had a big day. Jock and Daphne are around here somewhere, probably smooching. You know how newlyweds are.” Shelley caressed Hadley’s cheek and said, “Hadley, can you say hi to Abby’s friend Aiden?”

  Hadley looked sleepily at Aiden and said, “Hi.”

  “Hi, peanut. That looks like a very special owl,” Aiden said.

  “My Owly.” Hadley clutched the stuffed toy against her chest.

  Daphne, a curvy blonde, walked out of one of the offices, wiping something from Jock’s mouth, her back to Abby and the others. “Hold still for a sec. You have lipstick on your mouth.”

  Jock’s dark eyes shifted to them, and he flashed an amused grin.

  “What are you—” Daphne followed his gaze over her shoulder and blushed a red streak. “Crumbs. Muffin crumbs,” she said nervously. “He was eating muffins.”

  “I want a muffin!” Hadley thrust her arms toward Jock and said, “Cawwy me, Daddy.”

  They all chuckled as Jock took Hadley into his arms, his tall, broad frame making her look even smaller.

  “Hi, Abby. It’s good to see you,” Jock said. “And you must be Aiden. I’m Jock, and this is my wife, Daphne, and our little girl, Hadley.”

  “It’s nice to meet you both,” Aiden said.

  Jock shifted Hadley so she could rest her head on his shoulder and said, “I heard you two are joining us for dinner Friday night.”

  “Yes. I’m looking forward to it. I read your book and enjoyed it very much, but that was one heck of a scary ride. I wouldn’t want to live in your head.”

  As Jock and Aiden talked about his book, Daphne and Shelley sidled up to Abby, and Daphne whispered, “Where did you find him?”

  “He’s scrumptious,” Shelley said.

  Now it was Abby’s turn to blush. “I was jogging and saw him sitting on the deck of the Bistro.”

  “And he was so taken with Abby, he invited her to breakfast the next day,” Shelley said excitedly. “He’s been helping her at the Bistro ever since.”

  Abby stared at her curiously. “How do you know all that?”

  “Aiden and I had a nice long chat about my daughter from another mother when he came by to schedule your tour. Oh, honey, he is such a gentleman. A real class act. They don’t make them like that anymore. Except for my boys, of course,” Shelley said.

  “You guys seem happy together,” Daphne said.

  Abby didn’t need Shelley’s approval, but it sure felt good to have it. She glanced at Aiden, playing peekaboo with Hadley, and it turned her insides to mush. “Our relationship is still new, but he’s all kinds of wonderful.”

  “And you deserve nothing less,” Shelley said. “I know your parents are smiling down on you right now. All they ever wanted was for you girls to be happy, and your mom knew she wasn’t strong enough to help you get there. But in some ways, what you went through with her made you the person you are, so may
be that’s the silver lining.”

  “That’s a nice way to look at it.” Abby tucked away Shelley’s thoughts to share with Deirdra and Cait another time.

  Shelley glanced at the clock and said, “We’d better get a move on if you’re going to get your tour in before sunset.”

  “Don’t we have to wait for the rest of the customers?” Abby asked.

  “This is a private tour.” Shelley took her arm and said, “I told you your new man was a class act.”

  Abby loved that Aiden had requested a private tour.

  “Yes, go.” Daphne hugged her and said, “We’ll see you Friday night.”

  Abby and Aiden followed Shelley through the winery as Shelley talked about grape cultivation and the winemaking process. Aiden kept his arm around Abby, whispering a mix of romantic and naughty things that made her warm and fuzzy one minute and hot and bothered the next. In between his secret whispers, he had complex conversations with Shelley about the history of winemaking, wine and grape varieties, oak species used for barrels, and a litany of other wine-related topics. Abby was fascinated by his knowledge, though she shouldn’t be surprised. It was clear that Aiden was a man with a thirst for understanding and preparedness. She had a feeling he didn’t jump into anything blindly. In fact, she’d bet her bottom dollar that he’d spent hours researching the history of the lighthouse, the best lunch café in the area, and even where to buy a hammock. That thought gave her pause. Had he chosen that specific outdoor furniture store because they sold Parisian café sets?

  “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” Aiden asked as they followed Shelley down a corridor.

  “A lot. I’m figuring out what makes you tick, putting together the Aiden Aldridge puzzle.”

  “When you figure it out, clue me in.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and said, “I thought I knew who I was, but you’re changing that.”

  Shelley smiled over her shoulder and said, “Keep up, kids. You’ll want to see the vineyard before the sun goes down.” When they reached the back door to the winery, she said, “Let me grab a few things from the kitchen. Back in a jiffy.”