Snorting a laugh, I too grab another cookie. “Glad to hear it.”
Before I’m able to take a bite, Nan’s warm, weathered hand is on mine. “I’m worried about you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Because I didn’t seduce my boss?”
“Yes. Well, yes and no.”
“Nan!”
“Charlotte Wren. I’ve known you since you were seven years old, and watching you grow into the beautiful woman you are has been an absolute delight—minus that awful blue hair phase.”
My stomach drops remembering the dark age of mine and Nan’s relationship. A year of my life I won’t ever get back, and one of the biggest reasons I’m working as hard as I am to see her dream alive again. I owe her everything, always have, but especially after Axel and the blue hair phase. Nan lifts her hand and swats at the air as if she’s shooing a pesky bug.
“Never mind that, where was I?”
“You were showering me with compliments,” I tease.
She gives a withering look, but continues. “I’ve watched you overcome the worst this world has to offer, and for what? For you to spend all your time with men and women you have no intention of actually dating.”
For a moment, I’m worried Kara shared more than just my meeting Noah at the bar, but Nan continues before I can confirm it.
“You should be finding someone who can help you build the life you want to live—not spending your time working for someone else, or being someone else’s cheap thrill.”
I sit back in my chair, folding my arms, and wait for her to finish.
“All I’m saying”—she pauses to brush her hands on the floral apron tied around her waist—“is that you have so much to offer and I want to see you taken care of. Happy with someone who understands you.”
“Is this you telling me I can get blue hair again? I think I have a coupon for the beauty supply store floating around the bottom of my bag.”
“It wasn’t your color, dear. Drop it.”
“Nan!”
She chuckles and I reach out to touch her arm. “I’m happy. Most of that is due to you and the way you opened your home to that hungry little girl, and then again when I was a stubborn nineteen year old with blue hair. I don’t want you worrying about me like you worried about her. She’s all grown up now. My job is to worry aboutyou.”
She seems to take this as the end of the conversation, and stands to take our empty coffee cups to the sink.
This kitchen is the first place I remember feeling safe, and the image of Nan washing dishes at the sunbathed sink surrounded by pale yellow walls is as familiar as anything in my life. She gave me a second chance, and returning the favor for her run-down diner is the least I can do. I don’t need the security of a relationship like she thinks I do. Besides, if my judgment is to be trusted, security is the last thing a relationship will bring.
A knock at the door and my phone ringing in my bag pull us each in separate directions. Henrietta’s voice fills the entryway with a greeting as I look down to Noah’s name on the screen.Shit.I definitely don’t need the two matrons in the other room to find out Noah is calling me on a Saturday afternoon. Checking to make sure they aren’t watching, I slip out of the back door and onto the small patio.
“Hello?”
“Charlotte?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Noah.”
“What do you need?”
My question comes out brisker than I intend, and I make to clarify my elderly friends might be watching me, and it’s putting me on edge, but Noah speaks first—saving me the awkwardness of an overshare.
“Sorry to call you on the weekend, it’s not my style. I like to let people live their lives without interference outside of the office.”
“It’s fine. What’s up?”
My foot taps against the patio, my impatience too much to contain.
