You Smiled (7 page)

Alex wondered briefly if Grace was going to follow and go back to work. His heart sank at the thought.

She finally walked over to the other side of the booth and sat down. Adjusting the band on her watch, she and folded her hands on the table.

“She’s a pretty girl,” Grace observed, watching Becky interact with a group in the middle of the store.

“She is.” It wasn’t necessarily what he wanted to talk about, but he’d follow her lead.

“It’s funny to think about her taking my brother on,” she mused.  “Becky’s so cheerful and he can be, well, pretty grumpy.”

“They might be good for each other.”
Speaking of which …

Grace finally looked back at him. “I don’t think he’s her type.”

Alex nodded, waiting. He really didn’t have an opinion on the subject.

“So, it looks like I’m going to be busy today.”

“Yes, it does.”

She had trouble making eye contact. “When do you leave town?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“I see.” She traced one of the nondescript carvings in the tabletop. “You’ll stop in to say good-bye?”

“I was hoping to spend a little more time with you before I leave.”

She definitely seemed uncomfortable. “There’s just so much going on. My brother’s ready to talk, the shop is so busy, yet barely breaking even. I just don’t know if I can do this right now.”

“Do what, Grace?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. This.” She look
ed around the store, as though the definition of their relationship was written on one of the walls.

“
This
being?” He wasn’t about to let her get away with not describing
this. This
might end up being a very good thing.

She did look at him then, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “I don’t know. Trying to figure out if I’m falling in love with an old high school friend.”

That was more than he expected.

“I guess love is a strong word. But whatever it is, I’m not sure I’m ready for it.”

Alex leaned back and regarded her. “Do I get to say anything about it?”

She eyed him warily. “You’re leaving town tomorrow. What could even happen?”

“I’d like to find out.”

“Find out and then go back to Chicago.” She looked at him pointedly. “I’m not sure that works for me.”

“I’m not a careless person, Grace. I would never be careless with you.”

A spark of hope flickered in her eyes and she quickly looked away. “And another thing. It’s not cool that I never noticed you in high school, but now that you’re…” she looked back at him and colored.

“Don’t, Grace. This isn’t about how I look.” He grimaced at how he currently looked and probably smelled. “Your sitting here with me now is testimony to that.” The humor he tried to inject was lost on her.

“There isn’t a woman in this room who wouldn’t change places with me right now,” she said. “You’re very …” she hesitated, “well, it’s all very evident.”

“I came in here looking for
you
. This store could be filled with lobstermen, for all I care.”

Her eyes widened, a sparkle of humor lighting them briefly.
“But you’re leaving tomorrow, so what’s the point? We’re both incredibly busy and invested in our own lives. It’s not like anything could happen, anyway.”

“Anything could happen, Grace.”

Their eyes met with the force of a physical touch. She seemed hopeful, vulnerable, uncertain.

“I need this shop to succeed. There’s never been so much riding on it. I was so distracted this week.” She tried to look at him accusingly.

He couldn’t help smiling. “Sorry for the distraction.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I can’t say I regret that our lives have been derailed a little by my visit. It might be a good derailment.” He looked at her earnestly. “Can’t you at least entertain the idea?”

“Another time I might,” she replied with resignation. “I talked to my brother last night, and it sounds like he might be pulling out. I don’t really think he will, but he’s not himself right now, so I don’t know what he’ll do. I have to find a way to finance without him.”

She glanced at her employees. “A lot of people are depending on me right now. I’m just … afraid.” She looked at him. “I can’t deny that I’d like to spend more time with you. This week has been fun, and I appreciate that you went to the trouble of finding me.”

He was being dismissed. She was convinced that what they’d discovered wasn’t worth her time right now. He took a deep breath and tried to think. He had to figure out something to say, and still get out through the throng of women in the store. Old anxieties threatened to take over, so he stood up, the physical action helping to jumpstart his brain.

“I hope you and your brother can work things out.”

Grace stood.
“I’m sorry.” Her resolve faltered somewhat, but Alex wasn’t looking to wear her down or change her mind. He needed space and time to think, and more than likely, she did too.

He did look into her eyes one last time. “I am, too.”

They stood for a moment, then Alex nodded and walked away. He tuned out the stares and whispers as he made his way to the door. After ten years, Grace had almost been within reach and everything seemed possible. He wasn’t going to let a few hours change that.

Sunday

Grace couldn’t concentrate on the order. Why did people have to drink such complicated coffee, anyway? She willed herself into automatic mode; she could make these drinks in her sleep. It wasn’t even all that busy, and the crew behind the counter really didn’t need her help. She just didn’t want to be alone in her office, or anywhere else for that matter. There was too much to think about on too many fronts. Better to focus on coffee.

She got another look from Daphne as they maneuvered around each other in the tight space. Her assistant manager was not pleased with her. Grace squeezed by to check the pastry display. The apple cider donuts were going fast; she’d probably have to call the cider mill and see if she could send Drew for another couple dozen to get through the morning.

She should just get out of the store and pick them up herself - maybe drop some off for her brother, not that he deserved them. They’d actually had a decent visit the afternoon before. Things had gone better than she’d expected, which is to say that he’d spoken to her. He’d given her some details about his injury, more about how it had happened and the prognosis. Although he hadn’t made his peace with giving up football, he seemed slightly less angry about the whole thing. At least his tone had improved from the night before.

Then they’d driven to the bank so he could get money for “that awful woman who runs the B&B.” Grace tried not to smile as he ranted about Becky. Apparently they’d had another run-in after she returned from the coffee shop. Most people were understandably intimidated by her brother, but Grace had the feeling Becky could handle him. She could hardly wait for the next report.

On their way home she’d heard an earful about how he’d had it with the girly B&B, and was ready to find a place of his own. It was encouraging that he was ready to find a more permanent residence, so she let him vent about seashell decor while they drove around town. When they drove past the cottage they’d grown up vacationing in, they were delighted to see a “For Rent” sign out front. Well,
she
was delighted. Tank had just grunted and slumped down in his seat when she pulled up to the curb to call the number on the sign.

She wasted no time in pursuing the rental on his behalf, even going so far as to put down a deposit with her own credit card. Ignoring his growling and sighing, she pretty much agreed to anything the real estate agent said. When the phone call was finished, she informed her brother that the house was furnished and he could move in the following week. He hadn’t thanked her; just nodded curtly,
brooding out the window. At that point, she’d had about enough and dropped him off at the inn. She hoped that Becky would intercept him and give him some grief. Now that Tank was facing the world again, it was good for him to be sparring with someone, especially if that someone wasn’t her.

She jumped out of her reverie when the phone rang. Kelly grabbed it while she flipped the switch on the espresso machine. “Phone for you in the office, Grace.” She didn’t even look back, just hung up and kept working on her drink.

Grace trekked to the back of the store. She was getting a little tired of people being rude to her. The only person who hadn’t been, she’d sent packing.

Opening the door to her office, she noted the receiver lying carelessly on her desk. Jen’s face was all but pressed to her computer screen. Apparently she wasn’t talking to her boss, either.

Grace kept her voice steady as she inquired about the caller, information that Jen would normally offer as soon as she entered the room. Of course, it wouldn’t be
him.
Not only was he unlikely to call, but there was no way Jen would be nonchalant about it if he was on the other end of the line.

Her assistant kept her attention on the screen. “The guy from Maplewood. He insisted on talking to the owner.”

Grace thanked her and picked up the phone. She answered questions about a coffee contract that Jen could easily have fielded. When her customer asked if she was free on Friday night, she inwardly groaned, remembering that she’d met Maplewood’s owner briefly at a small business owners’ meeting early in the fall. She could see Jen’s smirk in profile as she awkwardly refused the invitation. When she finally hung up, the room was silent. Jen would normally have had a great deal of fun at her expense. Not today.

All she needed was for her parents to show up and remind her of their disappointment over her divorce.

No wonder I don’t smile anymore. I can’t seem to make anybody happy, least of all myself.
Sitting down at her desk, she mindlessly flipped through her neat stack of papers and came across a note that had been written to her a few weeks ago. Everyone had thought the note was hilarious because Jen had added the letters “im” to the middle of her name. The word “Grimace” leapt off the page at her. Why had she even kept it? She took down the contact information for one of her customers, wadded the paper and threw it away. Then she picked it up out of the garbage can and threw it at Jen’s head.

“Hey!”

“That’s for being rude to me today.”

Jen was about to throw it back when Grace said, “Open it.”

Jen picked up the wad and flattened it open on her desk. She giggled. “Why would you throw this away? It’s some of my best work.” She peered up at Grace. “Did you ever notice that if you take the ‘im’ from your last name and tuck it into your first, you have ‘Grimace K-ball’? You have to admit, it’s funny.” She slapped the paper down on Grace’s desk.

Grace scowled. “I used to be a very cheerful person.”

Jen snorted in disbelief. “Well, you were cheerful this week, so I guess it’s possible.”

Grace frowned at her friend. “Am I usually that grumpy?” She thought about her brother and how difficult and unpleasant he’d been the day before. It hadn’t surprised her; she’d expected it from him. Was it a familial thing?

Jen waited for her to come out of her daze. “You with me? Good. ’Cause if you promise not to fire me, I’ll tell you the truth.”

Grace nodded her hesitant approval. Did she really want to hear this?

“You’re a good employer. Everyone here knows they’re lucky to work for you. You’re fair, you’re consistent. We know what to expect.” Jen sat down in her chair and rolled it closer to Grace. “But you - cheerful? Before this week - never. It was okay before. Like I said, we knew what to expect. But now that we’ve seen the other you - the happy, almost light-hearted Grace, well, we want more of that.” She stood. “And it’s good for business. People notice.”

Grace sat motionless, considering. Jen wasn
’t finished.

“What none of us can figure out, is why you’d throw away something -
someone
- who made you so happy. You lit up when he walked in the room. We’ve all talked about the transformation. Whatever he does to you, he should market and sell it. It’s a powerful thing.”

Grace looked up. “It was that noticeable?”

“Please.” Jen folded her arms. “Tell me you’re okay with just dismissing this guy. Are you really happier now? ’Cause if you are, you have a funny way of showing it.”

“Of course I’m not happy.” Grace surprised herself with her honesty. “It’s just that I can’t be in a relationship right now, especially with someone who lives halfway across the country. I’ve got to get this business on solid ground. My brother needs me. Alex is great, but …”

“But what?”

“He scares me.”

Jen sat down again. “So he’s not the sweet, incredibly handsome, surprisingly Grace-focused guy that we’re seeing?”

Grace rubbed her temples. “Yes, he’s all that.” She tried to shake off her irritation. “I think that’s why he scares me. He’s too good to be true. Something isn’t right, and I don’t have the time to figure out what it is right now.”

“I see. What do you have the time for, if not to figure out if a wonderful man who wants to get to know you is worth getting to know? Life is short, Grace. This coffee shop is going to be fine. Your brother is going to be fine. You? I’m not so sure.”

Grace swallowed. “I’m not sure about me, either.” She took the “Grimace” paper and folded it mindlessly on her desk. “He really is a great guy. And shocking as it may be,” she gave a side-long look to
her friend, “I think he honestly likes me. Or he did. I’m not sure our friendship or whatever it is will survive what I did to him yesterday.”

“Well, call him.”

“I don’t have his number.”

“Well, that’s it then.” Jen threw up her hands. “There’s no hope. It’s not like he found you halfway across the country after ten years.” Her voice didn’t reflect disgust so much as sadness as she walked to the door. “Don’t let him go, Grace. Even if
you
don’t want to be happy,” she stopped and regarded her boss, “the rest of us want it for you.”

***

A few minutes later, Grace was back behind the counter, irritating her staff, and replenishing the creamer jugs. Sunday mornings were usually busy, and this was one of those jobs she had to continually remind them to do. Apparently people who wanted cream in their coffee didn’t like it when the creamer jugs were empty. No use making anyone else unhappy this morning.

She crouched to put the cream away and felt a hush come over the store. A few appreciative murmurs from the women behind the counter mixed with a low growl of disapproval from Drew. No doubt about it, Alex had entered the room.

She stood slowly, heart pounding, confusion ruling her normally organized brain, as it had for the past week. Like he’d done just six days before, Alex came to stand directly behind her on the other side of the counter. The looks on the girls’ faces were almost comical as they stared. Nothing short of Alex sporting a clown suit would explain their reaction.

Grace pivoted
and made an effort to hold her jaw in place. While he looked great in running shorts, Alex was devastating in Armani. He stood regarding her with what she could only assume must be his business persona: confident and unwavering. It was a compelling sight.

Grace managed a relatively stable, “Hello, Alex.”

“Grace.” He always used her name. Didn’t even greet her, just said her name in a way that made her want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“Can we talk?” It was less a request than a gentle order.

She inwardly shook herself. This was Alex. He wasn’t likely to be ordering her around. She tipped her head, gesturing to the booths.

Putting one foot in front of the other, she endeavored to calm herself, well aware that her staff’s collective gaze was following their parallel path to the back of the store.

So he’d come back. Maybe he was going to let her have it for the way she’d treated him yesterday. Even as she sat down in the booth, she knew that he wouldn’t have anything negative to say to her. He would be kind and charming, probably just stopping in to say good-bye. She took a deep breath, but it didn’t matter. Her heart continued to pound audibly as she watched him approach the booth.
The man wore a suit well.

A new reason to panic assailed her when Grace considered the potentially sticky bench to which Alex was headed. He didn’t hesitate at all as he flipped his jacket tails back and sat down.

“Why are you dressed like that?” She had to ask.

He looked down briefly, as though he’d forgotten what he put on in the morning. “I went to church.”

“That’s what you wear to church?”             

He shrugged. “It’s the suit I had with me.”

“I see.”

“Are we good with my clothes? Because I know you’re busy and I don’t want to take too much of your time.”

“Actually, I’d like to know where you got your tie.”

He looked down, then up, a slow grin forming on his lips. “Somewhere in Chicago.”

“Somewhere incredibly expensive.”

“Could be.”

“I guess your business is pretty successful.”

“I guess it is.”

They eyed each other for a moment.

“So, when does your flight leave?”

“You’re still trying to get rid of me?”