“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Scottie said, her expression sad.
“Ugh.” Adley dropped her forehead to the table. “Why did you let me think I could do a casual thing?” She wailed it almost comically so Scottie wouldn’t think she was actually blaming her. She wasn’t. She blamed only herself.
“You had to try, right?” Marisa finally spoke up, her voice soft but much huskier than Scottie’s. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”
“There’s not. You’re right.” Adley reached for a cracker from the plate in the middle of the table, topped it with a slice of cheese, and popped it into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then said, “Why couldn’t she have been less…amazing? Less…beautiful? Less…sexy? Less…from the company that’ll put the final nail in the coffin of my business?” The wine was making her feel warm and pliable. The love and care of her friends was making her feel safe.
If only there was something to help her feel less sad.
Chapter Seventeen
Northwood really was the cutest little city.
Sabrina loved it. She hadn’t expected to, but she did. And it said a lot because she’d been all over the damn country, to cities big and small. There were some she very much liked: Savannah, Georgia; Asheville, North Carolina; Cleveland, Ohio, surprisingly. But Northwood had something special. Something…extra. She didn’t know what it was. It was more of a feeling than something tangible. All she knew was that she felt content there, more so than she had in a long time, anywhere.
She tried to pretend it had nothing to do with her time with Adley, and it was probably a good thing she’d be leaving in a couple days. She’d texted Adley once or twice, and at first, she’d gotten no response. Then, last night, Adley had texted back. Finally.
Good luck with the opening. I hope you and Sprinkles get home safe.
That was it. NoHey, stay in touch.NoI really enjoyed our time together.And could she blame her? No. Of course not. But it didn’t sit well. None of it did. More than once, she’d found herself wishing she’d never met Adley, had never bought that first pinot grigio, had never walked over to her table and sat down, had never led her into the ladies’ room, had never kissed her, touched her, spent the night with her. And almost immediately, she’d shake those thoughts away. Because the last thing in the world she wanted was to have her time with Adley scrubbed from her life.
Staying busy was the key. She’d spent the week of the soft openingwandering Northwood, introducing herself and her company to people and places. She passed out coupons. She handed out invitations to the grand opening. She visited parks and the zoo and two bowling alleys and several soccer fields and baseball diamonds, and after four days of doing all that, she knew Northwood like the back of her hand.
And today was the grand opening.
She was in the midst of it, and it always energized her. It was her favorite part of her job. All the hard work and the long hours led up to this day. Sweet Heaven was packed, and it looked fantastic. Maggie had outdone herself with some extra color on the walls, bright pinks and purples and blues. All Sweet Heavens followed the same general design, but Maggie had put a little zing into this one, and it had Sabrina wondering if maybe Maggie felt the magic of Northwood, too.
The din of many, many children filled the shop, and Sabrina kind of loved it. Watching them running around, playing in the play corner that every Sweet Heaven had. Or with noses pressed against the glass of the display case, trying to decide which flavor they wanted. Or looking up at their parents with sprinkles stuck to their faces and ice cream on their cheeks. It really was sweet heaven to Sabrina. She couldn’t wait to have kids of her own. And that made her wonder if Adley wanted kids, and then she started back down the Adley path all over again and had to consciously tug herself back to the present, force herself to enjoy the moment. She and Sprinkles would head back to Atlanta on Monday. In two days.
She stood behind the counter and watched as all the new employees worked their asses off. There were ten of them working today, ranging in age from forty down to seventeen, all dressed in the bright purple T-shirts and white hats of the Sweet Heaven uniform. They scrambled around, filling cones and dishes, swirling from the soft-serve machine, adding toppings. There was some bumping into each other and a few dropped scoops, but those things happened. They’d get the hang of it.
“Hey, Sabrina?” It was Jennifer Fisher, the manager they’d hired. “Can we go over a couple of final things?”
“Sure.” With a last glance around, she indicated the rear of the shop and followed Jennifer back there.
* * *
Adley had expected the new Sweet Heaven to be busy on its grand opening day, but it was beyond that. It was a zoo. No less than a hundred people filled the shop and spilled out onto the sidewalk out front. There were balloons and giveaways and fun music playing and a goddamn clown making balloon animals. She wandered, moving through and around families and couples, soaking up the colors and the brightness. The sheer brightness. Everything was happy and sparkling. It was celebratory and wonderful.
Adley hated it.
Scanning the flavors in the display case as she moved up in line, her gaze landed on Honey Bear. The description said it was honey-flavored ice cream with a doughnut swirl. Seriously? Not that she had the market on ice cream flavors, but that was suspiciously familiar, and she knew both Sabrina and that guy from Sweet Heaven had been in her shop. She sighed quietly. It was business, she knew, but still. And now she had to order it, damn it.
When it was her turn, she ordered the Sweet Heaven waffle cone with one scoop of Honey Bear ice cream. The kid behind the counter was no older than high school age and was extra cheerful, clearly happy to be doing this job. Her smile was wide as she asked Adley if she wanted any toppings. Sprinkles? Walnuts? Chocolate chips? Adley shook her head and paid.
The waffle cone was smaller than the ones she made, factory processed and then shipped here, most likely. Her first bite of it left her less than impressed. It was fine. It wasn’t terrible. But it was apparent that it hadn’t been freshly made and hand-rolled that day. And the ice cream? Oh, the ice cream. Yeah. She got now why the description said it was honey-flavoredice cream. Because that’s exactly what it was. Very obviously not made with real honey like hers was. And thedoughnut swirlreally just seemed to be some overly sweet brown sugar syrup ribbon running through the ice cream. Again, it wasn’t terrible, but the only way she could describe the taste was to call it manufactured. She did her conscious best to give it a fair shot. She tasted, let it coat her tongue, and really focused on the flavor. But it was very sweet, a bit airy, and just plain artificial-tasting.
She didn’t know how to feel, whether to be happy or sad that the ice cream was meh. She didn’t want Sweet Heaven to fail, did she? Well, she did, of course she did, but not at the expense of Sabrina’s job.
Sabrina.
Adley had seen her briefly, standing behind the counter with her arms folded across her chest. Rather than her business attire, she’d been dressed in jeans and a Sweet Heaven T-shirt in bright purple that actually looked great on her—a little snug with capped sleeves—and before Adley could stop it, an image of her grasping the hem of that shirt and pulling it over Sabrina’s head filled her mind, so much so that she had to squeeze her eyes shut and will it away. With force.
Sabrina hadn’t seen her, and then she’d been pulled away by another person, and Adley had watched her walk into the back room. Her heart had squeezed in her chest a little bit, she was sure, and she rubbed at the spot with her fingertips.
Part of her wanted to see Sabrina, wanted to talk with her, touch her face, hug her good-bye, because she was leaving soon. And while that was mostly a big relief—wasn’t it?—it also made Adley sad. She was sad about so many things right now—from the way things had gone with Sabrina, to the fate of her own business, to her future. Not to mention the fact that standing in this ice cream shop surrounded by a million kids had somehow started her biological clock ticking very loudly in her head. How much more was she supposed to take?
It was suddenly too much. Too hot. Too crowded. Too stressful. She took her mediocre cone and felt like a salmon swimming upstream as she pushed her way through the crowd until she finally made it to the front door and pushed herself out into the fresh air. On the sidewalk, she stood and inhaled slowly, in and out, in and out, until she felt herself calm down. She absently took another bite of the cone in her hand, and nope, it hadn’t magically become delicious. With a shake of her head, she tossed it into a nearby trash can. One more look at the front of the shop. The brightly colored sign, the posters in the windows featuring cones and sundaes and ice cream sandwiches, she looked at them all. And through the window, her gaze landed on Sabrina, apparently returned from the back. Their eyes locked. Adley took in that face, the perfect smoothness of it, noted the slight sadness in Sabrina’s eyes. Regret? Who knew? Maybe? Adley made herself smile, just once.
