She glared at him, anger simmering just below the surface. Did he think a half apology would change anything? “Gavin, you’re impossible to be around. You’re hot and cold. Caring and icy. You’re always pressing your opinions on me. Telling me what I should or shouldn’t do. And I frankly don’t have the energy to deal with your moods anymore. I have things that need to be done. The grand opening is near. I can’t waste time worrying or dealing with your ever-changing moods.”
“I really am sorry.” His words were soft and sincere.
“Fine. I accept your apology.” Though she really didn’t. His words still stung. Deeply. Like he’d accused her of being some kind of diva. The furthest thing in the world from who she was now.
“So things are… okay? Between us, I mean?” His expression looked hopeful.
“Sure. We can be colleagues. But only because Miss Eleanor insisted. Once the theater is up and running, I hope… I hope you can just stay far away from me.”
Hurt flickered in his eyes and just as quickly disappeared. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” She nodded firmly, steeling her resolve.
He stared at her for a long moment, then turned and disappeared out the door. Her triumph for taking a stand was short-lived as his footsteps echoed down the hall. She slumped in her chair. But she’d done the right thing by sending him away. Now maybe he’d leave her in peace to get the theater up and going. He could go back to his bike shop and annoy people there. Sit by himself and brood at the counter at Sharky’s.
She didn’t need his help. Didn’t want it.
Still, she sat at her desk, fingering the pendant and staring at the empty doorway.
Tori saw no sign of Gavin for days. Which was exactly what she wanted, right? The question echoed through her mind. Growing more uncertain with each repetition. Was it really what she wanted? She did catch herself thinking she needed to tell him this or ask him that as the days went on. His absence had opened up a void she hadn’t known existed.
But it was better this way, she tried to convince herself. She didn’t have to worry about what kind of mood he’d be in. Or listen to his opinions. Or be accused of something she hadn’t done. Still, the theater felt empty without him.
She grabbed her bike and headed over to Coastal Coffee for breakfast before going into work. She found herself in need of company. She’d been used to the workers, and then Gavin always being around at the theater. Now, the emptiness clung to every aisle, every seat in the vast theater.
Dress rehearsals began next week, and the theater would once again be alive with activity, but this week had been filled with unwelcome silence and a loneliness she couldn’t shake.
She pushed into the cafe, and the welcome aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods surrounded her like a friendly embrace. The murmur of voices and clatter of ceramic cups were a sharp contrast to the silence of the theater and a mocking reminder of her solitude.
Beverly waved to her as she took a table and soon came over with a pot of coffee. “Coffee, yes?”
“Yes, please.” She moved her cup closer to Beverly.
“You haven’t been in here for a bit.” Beverly’s eyes held a hint of concern.
A concern that warmed Tori’s heart. She was making friends here on Magnolia, ones who noticed when she wasn’t around. It made her feel more like she was becoming a part of the town. “I’ve just been busy with the theater.”
“I saw the posters up. I’ve bought my ticket for opening night.”
Pride swelled through her. “You did?” A surge of gratitude swept through her at her friend’s support.
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it. Gavin has been in here and just about every other business in town putting up posters.”
Miss Eleanor approached the table, joining their conversation. “Yes, Gavin has been busy promoting the theater.”
“He has?” She couldn’t hide her surprise.
“Yes. He seems pretty proud of all you’ve accomplished.” Miss Eleanor gave a brief bob of her head.
She doubted that. “I’m surprised he’s putting out the posters. We had a bit of an… argument. I did an interview with a reporter about the theater and how it was opening again. Gavin accused me of seeking the limelight. Wanting attention. Said I shouldn’t talk to the reporter. That I’d regret it, which really makes no sense. But honestly, I just wanted some free publicity for the theater. He was totally overreacting. And his accusation—it—it hurt.”
Miss Eleanor tilted her head. “And did he apologize?”
“He tried to, but I didn’t really listen to him. He’s moody and I never know which Gavin I’m going to see. The nice, helpful one or the grumpy, opinionated one. I just wanted to be left alone to finish everything that needs to be done before the opening.”
“Gavin is a good man. He’s just had some trouble in his life with the media.” Eleanor motioned to an empty chair. “Do you mind?”
“Please, take a seat.”
