Infusing her voice with a confidence she didn’t fully feel, she said, “I’m excited. I’m being spontaneous and adventurous.”
Rylee laughed. “With only a couple of months’ planning to put it all together.”
True, but it was still one of the most impromptu things Presley had ever done. Emmett often complained when she wanted to make plansfor a Friday night on Monday, telling her sometimes he just liked to see how things went.
“He’s going to be so surprised. When he was working to secure the Get Lost account, he kept saying he wanted to go there. There’s a little town on another island about a ten-minute ferry ride from the lodge that we can explore. There’s a craft beer tour and little shops. And at the lodge there’s hiking, fishing, canoeing. Plus, there’s the beach and swimming.”
She knew she was repeating herself, but it was almost like a checklist, a way to remind herself that she’d thought this through. When she’d asked Emmett about a trip to New York to see some plays, he’d said that was definitely not his thing. Well, this wasn’t hers and she was still doing it. Give and take.
Presley turned right at the light, the butterflies now doing jumping jacks in her stomach.
“It sounds awesome. Let’s just hope he appreciates it. I’ve never seen him do any of those things here, so don’t be afraid to do some of what you want on this trip, too.”
Presley knew her friend worried that she did a little too much of the giving in her relationships. Particularly this one. Presley loved her best friend, but Rylee was the queen of one week or less, no strings attached, and multiple dating apps. Her bestie was working her way up to head chef at a popular downtown restaurant and didn’t want to be tied down. If a person started to truly fall for Rylee, she ended things. Presley, on the other hand, had always been a full-meal-deal relationship person. She didn’t mind making allowances or being flexible with her life, because she wanted to share it with someone.
This would be worth it. Emmett would love it, they’d reconnect, and they’d maybe even talk about their next steps. Together.
After promising to text Rylee, Presley hung up just as she pulled into Slices Pie Shop. She parked, got out, smoothed out her button-down blouse, and picked a little piece of lint off of her pants. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she headed for the entrance. Emmett’s carwasn’t in the lot yet, but he’d be here any minute. She was craving the strawberry rhubarb they’d had on their first date.
As she slipped into a booth and ordered a pop for each of them, along with a slice of pie, she thought about how they’d met. His company had held a weekend conference at La Chambre Hotel even though the firm was local. It wasn’t uncommon. Companies rented rooms, set up workshops, and let their staff bond for a couple of days over free food and drinks. Presley was almost in charge of the team-building activities. That is, she planned and executed them but received none of the credit.
Whatever. It had been a great success personally and professionally. He’d asked her out on the second evening, and after work they’d come to this diner, sat in this booth, and shared her favorite pie.
“Here’s your drinks. Pie will be out in a minute,” the waitress said.
Emmett came through the door as Presley was putting his present on the table. It didn’t look like much in its black trifold packet, but she had a lot riding on this. Those butterflies were backflipping like divers off the high diving board now.
His blond hair was perfectly styled; not one hair dared to move. His blue eyes sparkled, and every time he leaned in for a kiss, Presley breathed deep, wrapped herself up in his scent, not entirely sure what it was but enjoying it all the same.
He slid into the booth as the waitress came back with one piece of pie and two forks. He gave her one of his shining grins.
“Hey. Would it be too much trouble to get lemon meringue instead?” Emmett asked.
The waitress glanced at Presley, raised her brows a little. She felt silly for wanting the romance of sharing the same type of pie they once had, so she smiled at the woman. “Lemon is my second favorite.”
Once he opened his gift, the pie wouldn’t matter.
The waitress took the plate and went to get the other dessert.
“Sorry I’m a couple minutes late.” He took a long drink of his pop. He was fidgety. She could feel his knee bouncing from across the table.He seemed to be looking everywhere but into her eyes.We’ll reconnect on the trip.
“No worries.” Presley reached for his hands. “Happy birthday.”
He met her gaze, his smile a little tight around the edges, and pulled his hands back. “Thanks. Listen, about tonight.”
The waitress showed up with two plates of pie. “Here’s your lemon.” She set it in front of Emmett and looked at Presley as she slipped the original piece in front of her. “It’s already sliced, so it’s on the house.”
Simple, random acts of kindness could not be outdone. “Thank you so much.”
The waitress’s gaze softened. “It’s just pie, hon.”
Not to Presley. It was memories and the start of something special. The waitress wandered off to help two new customers.
Presley tapped her fingers on the packet. “I have your birthday present here.”
Emmett was a few bites into his pie. “Thanks,” he said around a mouthful. “Some of the guys want to go for drinks tonight.”
Her smile slipped. “But you said no, right?”
