“Hello,” he said, offering his hand to Georgia, that dashing smile filling his face again. “I’m Dominick Russo.”
“Georgia,” she said, leaning forward with a posture that seemed just a little cocky. “I own Georgia’s Sport Supply down the street. You’re doing some project for the city, I hear?”
“That’s why I’m here, actually,” he answered, turning to me. With our bodies square, I could feel how much larger he was, his dimensions seeming to tower around me. “I did some asking around about your corner. It seems like there was a lapse in communication with your specific small-business group, as well as a couple of others around here, I’m sorry to say.”
“Does that mean there’s a chance to change the plan?” I asked, brightening a little despite how intimidated I felt. If anything could pull me back from the woozy feeling Dominick gave me, it was the future of my shop.
Dominick shook his head, frowning. “Well, I’m afraid the lot has already been purchased by the city, as well as another building around the corner that’s reserved for some future development. I took over this project when the previous Operating Officer had to depart for personal reasons, and a lot of things have already been set in stone.”
I deflated again as Georgia gave my hand a firm squeeze. Flowers were poking out of the overgrown weeds around me, and the garden suddenly felt so precious. I just couldn’t imagine how Dominick could be standing there and telling me that the city was going to rip it up.
“There’s really nothing you can do?” Georgia asked. “The businesses on this corner all rely on each other, you know? We have for years. I’m sure a bus stop could bring some customers, but that doesn’t mean you have to tear apart what’s already here.”
Dominick nodded, and I noticed the way he held his sunglasses between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing circles on the arms as he talked. “I’ll look into it,” he said firmly. “But I came here to let you know that the community groups should be hearing from the communication department for my project shortly. If you can get the other business owners to express the same sentiment, you have a much better chance of getting a different plan approved.”
“That’s easy,” Georgia said quickly. “I’ll make some phone calls tonight.”
Dominick nodded, then looked up to the sky. He squinted for a moment before throwing his sunglasses back on, then ran his hand through his neatly styled hair. Turning back to me, he finally spoke. “Small businesses are important to how a city functions,” he said, then handed me a business card. “This is a woman in my office. I’m often wrapped up in meetings during the weekdays, but if you think of anything else, don’t hesitate to contact her.”
I held the card limply, still processing the fact that the garden might really be torn apart. “Thanks, I guess,” I said.
Georgia stepped forward, interrupting us. “Even if you do have meetings to rush off to,” she told Dominick, “you surely have time to grab a little treat on the way?”
Dominick glanced at the shop, then nodded. “No use coming all this way and not grabbing myself something.”
I felt a little dizzy, and blood warmed my cheeks. “Of course,” I said, hustling myself forward to hide my face, not to mention my blush. “Always happy to have a guest in the shop.”
I swallowed as Georgia and Dominick followed me inside. Rhonda was chatting with a customer from behind the counter, her braids tumbling down the back of her summer dress. I waved and smiled, then held the door open, shooting death stares at a grinning Georgia behind Dominick’s back.
“You have any suggestions?” Dominick asked, spinning a little on his heel as his eyes drew a slow line across the store. It was like his gaze was swallowing up every inch of the place. “Any recent favorites?”
I reminded myself that I was proud of the shop. It had been my father’s life’s work, and now it was mine, too. Sharing it with new people was a joy, especially when they joined in the delight.
I’d just never had a wolf in the candy shop before. I’d never had to share it with someone who sent me reeling by looking at me. Someone who claimed he was there to help, even as he was ripping the world I knew to pieces.
And I’d never felt so self-conscious about my candy before. Dominick looked like he snacked on imported chocolates flecked with real gold.
“What’s your flavor?” I asked. “We’re known for having the biggest variety of candy in the state.”
He glanced around. “Chocolate,” he said casually.
Of course, I thought.
My mind danced around the chocolate aisles, thinking of the different treats that might please his palate. All of a sudden, a specific chocolate bar jumped to mind, although I couldn’t say why. I took a few hurried steps forward, grabbed it from the shelf, and offered it to Dominick.
“The chocolate is imported from Italy,” I said. “It’s very good, but the hazelnut cream filling is what makes it really special.”
He held the bar in the air, glancing at the curled script on the packaging. “My grandmother loved hazelnut cream,” he said, as though to himself. “I haven’t had it in years, though.” He turned back to meet my gaze, then smiled. “Thank you.”
He turned toward the counter to pay, and I cleared my throat. “On the house,” I said. “Enjoy.”
My breath caught in my throat as I waited for him to unwrap the bar and taste the candy. I wanted to see that moment when the chocolate and the hazelnut landed on his tongue and the look on his face when he was satisfied by what I had given him. I wanted that so bad that I could practically taste the chocolate in his hand.
“I will,” he said, slipping it in his pocket. “It will be a nice treat later.”
My heart sank as he turned to Georgia, exchanging some pleasantries and reminding her to reach out if she didn’t hear from the city soon.
Then he turned back to me, his smile like a spotlight.
