She set the vase on the coffee table, opened the envelope, and stared at the two words scratched in black ink.
Say yes.
Her hands trembled, and she dropped the card.
Hank’s words from the night before floated in her brain.Please tell me you’ll see me tomorrow.And her response:I will see you tomorrow. You’re fixing our building.
If she needed proof Hank wouldn’t give up until he’d won her over, she had it. And she had to admit, the flowers were gorgeous, the man was charismatic, and the weaker half of her wondered why the heck she resisted his advances. Why not forget the bargain she’d made with Elizabeth and enjoy the time she and Hank had together, fleeting as it would be? What woman wouldn’t want to date a television star? Imagine the tales she could tell her grandchildren one day.
She picked up the card and set it among the flowers. She had to remain firm because the saner part of her understood that any kind of relationship with Hank would turn her ordinary life into something entirely different. Something that could only lead to heartbreak.
No sense dwelling on it. She was a working girl and needed to get her butt in gear or she would never get to Grandma Lou’s on time. Hank was pumping iron this morning, so she wouldn’t see him anyway. And she had tosend the lease agreement to her lawyer, put out an e-newsletter, update their website, post on their social media accounts, and pass out flyers encouraging customers to vote for their recipe, starting Saturday.
She went up the steps and hurried to her bedroom to get dressed, then knocked on Travis’s door until she heard his sleepy mumble.
“What?”
She cracked the door open and spoke to the mound underneath the blankets. “I’m heading out to open Grandma Lou’s. You’ll need to take care of Tana and bring her to Rosie when she’s up.”
“I will,” he mumbled, turning over and burying his head in his pillow.
An hour later, Bethany donned an apron, whipped up some batter, and placed a batch of apple-cinnamon muffins in the oven. While she waited for the muffins to bake, she put the lease agreement in an envelope and addressed it to her lawyer. She glanced toward the door when the first customers entered, half expecting Hank in his maintenance-man garb. She told herself she was relieved when it was only a few regulars, wanting their donuts before work.
She stocked shelves and made broccoli cheese soup, turkey club sandwiches, two gallons of sweet tea, and a strawberry Jell-O salad for the lunch crowd, but when she served her first plate, Hank still hadn’t put in an appearance.
At three, she paused on the way to the kitchen with an armful of dirty dishes and glanced out the window. Sunshine beat against the glass. A few cars moved up and down the street. A typical late afternoon summer weekday in Tremont, Ohio.No Hank.Maybe he’d already grownbored with her—succumbed to Daphne’s charms, or those of some other crazed fan of his?
She made her way to the kitchen and piled the dirty dishes in the sink so she could unload the dishwasher. She opened the door and clutched a handful of silverware. From the other room, the jangle of the doorbell sounded. Her heartbeat tripped into high gear, but when she set the silverware down and walked into the dining room to see who’d entered, it was not Hank. She tried to ignore the heavy feeling settling in her stomach like a bad batch of brownies.
She wiped her hands on her apron. “Hi, Patty. Everything okay next door?”
“Oh sure, everything’s fine.” Patty’s family had owned the antique bazaar for as long as Bethany could remember. She was a large woman who laughed a lot and often braided her long dark hair, although today she wore it down. She also made pasta sauce that could rival that of the best chefs in Cleveland’s Little Italy. Desmond, the thief, had nagged her for the recipe before he’d left town. Later, they’d discovered that he’d used it on his show, claiming he’d tweaked the recipe, making it his own.
Patty twirled a strand of hair with one hand and gestured with her other hand toward the large black kettle plugged in behind the counter. “I came over to see if you had any soup left. Mitch and I didn’t have time for lunch.”
“Sure. I’ll get it for you.”
Bethany grabbed two to-go containers and ladled hot soup into them. “Busy day?”
“I’ll say. Our Hollywood hunk was in—replaced the rotted wood step out front. Attracted a few onlookers, so he took off a while ago. For a television star, he’s mighty handy with a hammer. Heard he saved Tia’s life last night too.”
Bethany placed the bowls of soup in a brown paper bag. Patty handed her a ten-dollar bill and rambled on.
“Mitch and I are thrilled with him as our new landlord. He’s done so much for this old place already.” Her cheeks turned from ivory to a cherry red. “Not that you and Travis weren’t good landlords before the bank seized the property. I know that you did everything you could do for us, given the state of your finances.”
Bethany deposited the money in the cash register, counted out the change, added spoons and napkins to the bag, and tried not to let her embarrassment at her own deficiencies as a landlord and surprise at Patty’s praise of Hank show on her face. “No offense taken.”
Patty leaned against the counter and cupped her hands around her mouth, as if imparting a grave secret. “Of course, one of his onlookers this morning was Daphne Miller. You shouldn’t let that woman get a jump on you.”
Bethany set the bag on the counter in front of Patty. “Hank’s our landlord, Patty. I’m not in competition for his attention.” But wasn’t she?
“Daphne spent the entire afternoon at our store yesterday. And this morning she showed up at ten with coffee. I told Mitch as soon as I saw her, she wasn’t there for the antiques. And boy, was I right. It was Hank this and Hank that all afternoon long. He drank her coffee.”
She laughed like she told a good joke, but Bethany couldn’t find any humor in the image of Daphne pursuing Hank. “She still over there?”
Patty grabbed the bag. “Nah. He put her to work holding boards and handing him nails. She finally got fed up with all the sawdust in her hair and left. Can’t say I blame her. You don’t suppose a big shot like him would seriously consider a woman like Daphne, do ya?”
Bethany hoped not but shrugged like she didn’t care. “What did Daphne do with Gulliver while she was playing the part of assistant?”
