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. I’m sure that kind of thing would’ve been about right, but I never got any of that. No one has ever been in love with me before.”
“What?” Emmett said, his brows knitting together in confusion. “How is that possible?” Madelyn might be a handful, but she was a beautiful, popular, rich handful. Guys should’ve been tripping all over themselves to get with her back in high school, and even more so now.
Maddie shrugged. “I don’t know. I dated pretty regularly before I left for Paris, but it’s never gotten to that point, I guess. The closest I ever got was with Blake’s friend Joel, but I was wrong about him in the end. He was just like the rest of the guys who are only interested in my family and whatever money they think they can milk out of it. The ones with enough of their own money not to care about that just think I’m a diva and would rather have a doormat for a wife. You of all people know what I can be like. Who can fall in love with a woman like me?”
She sounded almost defeated for the first time. Emmett didn’t like it. Their battles had caused some of the biggest headaches he’d had since he moved to Rosewood, but they’d also been the source of the most excitement he’d had. He hated to think that a beautiful—albeit stubborn and sassy—woman like Maddie felt she was unlovable somehow.
“I think you just need to find the right man. A real man, not just some punk trying to weasel his way into a cushy lifestyle. A real man wouldn’t be intimidated by a strong woman. He’d take everything you dished him and fire right back.”
Maddie turned to look at him, their proximity to each other suddenly more notable than it had been just a moment before. Her eyes met his and they both seemed to realize at the same time that he’d just described himself as being her perfect partner. “Someone like you, you mean?” she asked quietly, her lips a mere fraction away from his.
His gaze dropped down to her soft pink lips. “Maybe,” he said. Even as he spoke the word aloud, he knew that would never happen. He harbored an attraction to her, and he was certainly capable of handling what she could dish out, but they were a social mismatch in her eyes. He was certain she thought he was below her—a poor, lowly bartender. That would be her loss.
Her gaze searched his face for a moment before she shook her head. He was right. All she saw in him was a loser at a bar. A peddler of liquid poison and loose morals. She’d made those decisions without knowing anything about him, and yet she asked others to see beyond her own crusty exterior. If she was willing to let her own prejudices get in the way of a potential relationship, then she was right. It wouldn’t happen.
“I think it’s time for that second coat of paint,” she said.
Before he could respond, she stood up and walked back over to pick up her paint roller.
Chapter Eight
When Maddie unlocked the door of her bakery Thursday morning, she was a little stunned. She’d been nervous about letting her new employee close the shop, but she hadn’t had a choice. To compensate, she’d given her very specific instructions. Gertie was to straighten up, box up any leftover pastries, hide the cash in an envelope inside the freezer, and leave the keys to the shop in Maddie’s mailbox. When she got home Wednesday evening and the keys were where they should be, she never thought to go by the shop to follow up.
If she had, she would’ve been equally stunned. It was 4:00 a.m. and her eyes could be deceiving her, but it appeared as though the place was spotless. The shop was usually pretty clean—she had health department requirements to meet—but the place looked as good as it did the day it opened. The front part of the shop was immaculate, and the glass windows were smudge-free. The trip into the kitchen proved Gertie hadn’t stopped there. All the previous day’s baking equipment was washed and put away. The countertops were wiped down and the floors were swept. A pastry box was sitting on the counter with the previous day’s pastries for donation.
A glance into the freezer showed the envelope of cash was right where it should be, and a peek into the refrigerator revealed a batch of blueberry muffin batter and what looked like whoopie pie batter ready to go for today. She hadn’t even asked Gertie to do that.
As part of the bakery tour, she’d shown Gertie where she kept her recipes and the daily schedule for what they sold when, so Gertie would know the answers if someone asked about a special. Apparently, she’d taken it on herself to look at the next day’s offerings and make up a few things that could be prepared ahead of time.
Maddie was picky about her products. She’d test a batch and see how the muffins turned out before she was willing to put them out for sale, but if they were satisfactory, she was giving that kid a raise. She already felt bad enough that Gertie had taken the job without even asking about the pay. It probably didn’t matter. Maddie could tell by her clean but threadbare clothes and out-of-date cell phone that Gertie and her family could probably use the money.
Looking around, Maddie assessed her workload and decided to fire up the ovens and get a batch of blueberry muffins baking while she started on the breakfast rolls. The muffins came out perfectly, as did the whoopie pies, saving her a ton of time. By the time she opened the doors at eight she was ahead of schedule and some of her cookies and sweets for the afternoon were already cooling on racks in the kitchen.
Dotty was the first one in the door. Maddie looked up and immediately noticed that her regular customer was sporting a fancy new hairdo. She was also decked out in full makeup, with jewelry to match her new outfit. Since Miss Dotty usually ran around town in elastic-waist jeans and old sweaters, the difference was obvious. “Looking mighty fine this morning, Miss Dotty.”
Dotty beamed, running her hand over her new curls. “Isn’t it great? It’s just what I was looking for. It’s given me a whole new outlook on things.”
“Where are you off to today, all dressed up like that?”
Dotty leaned into the counter to share her secret, although they were the only two people in the shop. “The midmonth brunch at the senior center. I’ve decided that today is the day I’m going to ask out Dick Campbell.”
Maddie had a vague recollection of who he was. His ex-wife, Irene, had come to the house several times over the years to have tea with her grandmother. Granny had always referred to him as Richard, though. Maddie couldn’t imagine the word “dick” ever coming out of Adelia Chamberlain’s mouth, even in such an innocent context.
“So you’ve got your eye on Mr. Campbell, huh?”
“I do, indeed. He’s been divorced for about ten years now. He’s a few years younger than me, but after sixty, who’s counting? I heard he likes old black-and-white movies, so I’m going to ask him to join me for a showing of Casablanca at the old theater in Gadsden.”
Maddie hadn’t heard of anything like that. “They’ve got a place that plays old movies?”
“Yes,” Dotty explained. “When it got outdated and couldn’t compete with the fancy multiplexes, it became a dollar theater, and then someone bought it and fixed the place up. Now they show old classics on the weekends. I thought it’d be nice. It’s been a long time since I’ve dated, but going to the movies is always fun. Sitting in the dark, butter-covered fingers brushing each other in the popcorn, making out where your mama couldn’t catch you . . .”
“Miss Dotty!” Maddie said with a touch of scandal in her voice.
“I know, isn’t it naughty? I so hope he says yes.”
Maddie didn’t want thoughts of Dotty and Dick making out to manifest in her brain, but the idea of a senior romance in general was more inspiring than unsettling today. That conversation with Emmett on the water tower had put those thoughts at the forefront of her mind. She hadn’t intended to open up to him like that, but he was easier to talk to than she expected. It must be the bartender in him—half alcohol server, half therapist.
It was more than she’d said to anyone about her love life in a while. She didn’t have many people to confide in. Discussions with Lydia always seemed to circl
