“I’ll wait to hear from you, okay?” And with one nod, she gave Sprinkles a little tug, and Adley watched them walk away. Even when they turned the corner and walked out of sight, she continued to sit there feeling a mix of surprise, irritation, confusion, and about a million other things. Because, seriously, what the hell had just happened?
She pulled out her phone and texted Scottie.
* * *
“You havegotto be fucking kidding me.” Scottie’s eyes went wider than Adley had ever seen them, so much so that it made her laugh.
“I kid you not.”
“But she…but then…you havegotto be fucking kidding me.”
“Nope.”
One of the happy things that had come of Adley’s hostessing job at Chumby’s was that it was closed on Mondays. So was Trio, Scottie’s hair salon. So the two of them often met up on a Monday for breakfast or lunch or happy hour or whatever. They sat on Scottie’s back patio in the bright May sunshine, eating an early dinner of salads that Scottie had whipped up for them. Scottie had had a forkful of lettuce and a cherry tomato hovering in the air near her mouth for a long time now as she sat there and looked at Adley in shock. Finally, she put it in her mouth, chewed, and set down her bowl. Turning in her chair so she faced Adley and gave her all her attention, she said, “Tell me everything. Start to finish. Don’t leave anything out.”
Adley did exactly that. Spilled it all, from the initial text to how irritatingly beautiful Sabrina still was when she saw her in the dog park. And also how nervous she seemed to be. The offer of a job, but not just a job. Sabrina had mentioned the phrasebusiness partner. How she hadn’t ignored their history. “We didn’t really get into it, just acknowledged it was there.”
Scottie nodded and, to her credit, said nothing the entire time Adley relayed the story. But she watched her face with rapt attention as she spoke. When she finished, Scottie sat quietly for a moment before finally asking, “So? What did you say?”
“I told her I wanted to think about it.”
Scottie’s eyes went comically wide again. “What? You do? Seriously?”
Strangely, saying the words out loud to Scottie only solidified them in her mind. “I do. I am. Thinking about it.” She sighed loudly. “I miss ice cream, Scottie. I miss it so much.”
“You can make it at home,” Scottie said, then wrinkled her nose. “Can’t you?”
It made Adley laugh. She couldn’t help it. “I can, yes, but only in tiny batches and I can’t share it beyond, like, you.”
Scottie lifted a shoulder in a half shrug as she shook her head. “I’m not opposed to that, and I don’t see the problem.” They bothlaughed softly, and then Scottie closed a hand over Adley’s forearm. “I understand. I do. I know you, and I see how sad you are lately. I know how much you miss your shop. I just…” She pressed her lips together in a thin line and held Adley’s gaze.
“It’s okay. Go ahead and say it.”
Scottie leaned forward and tapped a finger against Adley’s chest. “I worry about this. Right here. I know how you felt about her last year, and I know you’ve probably promised yourself that you’ll be careful, that you’ll keep things strictly business if you decide to say yes, but…is that possible?”
It was Adley’s turn to half shrug. “It’ll have to be. Right?” Scottie still had a slightly skeptical edge to her expression, so she went on. “If this is what I want to do, if I want to get back into ice cream, I don’t think I can turn down an opportunity like this. It has literally just fallen into my lap.”
“Or been placed there gently by somebody you find devastatingly attractive. Oh, and that you’ve had sex with. The best sex of your life, if I remember correctly.”
A nod. “Yeah, there is that.” She had to give it credence. Didn’t she? Scottie was not wrong. But she’d been rolling it all around in her head for hours. And it was true, she’d need to take more time before she made a definite decision. “I just…I miss it so much.”
“I know you do.”
“And this is an opportunity that I’m not going to get anywhere else. Artisan ice cream maker isn’t exactly a common category on job search sites, you know?” She gave a bitter chuckle. “Believe me, I’ve looked.”
Scottie pushed the remaining salad around in her bowl for a moment, and when she looked back up at Adley, her face was dead serious. “Just please promise me you’ll watch out for your heart. Okay? Don’t make me worry about you.”
Adley made apfftsound. “Who are you kidding? You’re going to worry no matter what. It’s what you do. Look at you. You’ve already started.”
“Truth.”
Eventually, they shifted to other topics. The end of school approaching, which would leave Jaden to visit different family members and would free up much of Marisa’s time to teach more dance. Howmuch Scottie was looking forward to their first vacation together, just the two of them. They talked about Trio, the salon Scottie co-owned, and Scottie gave Adley’s dark hair a tug and let her know her ends were fried and it was time to make an appointment.
By the time Adley got home, she felt lighter. She always left Scottie’s place feeling that way. Happier. Calmer. She’d promised Scottie that she’d give herself until the end of the day on Wednesday before she made a final decision. That way, her brain would have a chance to examine both sides, the good and the bad, the pros and the cons. It was a reasonable request, and Adley agreed to it, even though she was pretty sure of her answer.
She woke up Tuesday feeling the same way but went through her day like normal. Stopped in to see her mother at her office in the morning. Did some long-overdue grocery shopping to fill her empty cupboards and barren refrigerator. Went for a walk around Black Cherry Lake just to soak in the spring air and play peekaboo with the sunshine as it hid behind clouds here and there. She went to work at Chumby’s and still felt lighter. There was a little spring in her step that she could feel, and she knew she was smiling more than usual—or at least more genuinely than usual. She ate a dinner of chicken French that was the night’s special—and insanely delicious—in the kitchen as she chatted with the cooking staff. When she finally got home, just before eleven o’clock, she found herself not at all disappointed that she hadn’t heard from Sabrina. She was giving her space, and Adley appreciated that more than she’d realized at first. It was clear Sabrina didn’t want to push her. Adley poured herself a glass of cabernet and took it to the bedroom with her. She did her nightly routine, slipped under the covers, and clicked on the television to the Food Network. She watched three episodes ofChoppedbefore her eyes started to get heavy. With one last glance at her phone’s screen—nothing from Sabrina—she turned everything off and went to sleep, dreaming of freshly made waffle cones and big tubs of ice cream and Sabrina smiling at her.
Chapter Twenty-two
