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“So, is this like a delayed offshoot of Stockholm syndrome?” Jane’s tone softened, but it still held notes of confusion. The answer had Elle’s mind winging back to that day in the library when Daniel had kissed her.
“I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone before. I’m telling you this in the cone of silence. So, you can’t tell anyone.” She started to say, Not that it matters. But it did matter. It mattered to her.
“Daniel kissed me when we were in high school, when I was tutoring him. He had only lived here about a month. I was dating Roger at the time, but it was before he and Roger had become friends. He kissed me, and I was so sheltered and naive he scared me to death. Jane, he made me feel things I’d never felt before. Even though we mostly avoided each other after it happened, I guess I never really got over that kiss. I didn’t even know it until I saw him again. It made me a believer in that old saying, ‘There’s a thin line between love and hate.’ It’s so complicated, but I think I have a better idea of which side of that line I’m standing on now. Because I certainly don’t hate him anymore.”
Jane was silent. Elle’s heart sank. She wasn’t sure what she’d wanted Jane to say, but she only knew that confession made her feel vulnerable because she didn’t want her to downplay it or say, So...? That kiss had shaped her, even if it had taken all these years to realize it. Maybe she hadn’t been ready for Daniel Quindlin back then. Maybe she still wasn’t ready for him. But the only way she’d ever know if she was edging too close to the fire was to risk getting burned.
* * *
Chloe was a stabilizer. Everyone minded their manners when she was at the inn. Everyone—especially Zelda and Gigi, bless their hearts—made an effort to watch their tones and soften their prickly edges. Because despite the tragedy of her daddy being in the hospital, Chloe was still a happy little girl with a sweet disposition. When she was around, she brightened the Forsyth like Savannah sunshine on a perfect spring day.
Plus, the guests loved her and the ever-present Princess Sweetie Pie, who was always tucked under Chloe’s arm or sitting close by when she was playing the My Little Pony game or painting at the small easel that Elle and Daniel had picked out for her. Gigi told Chloe she was the ambassador of the Forsyth Galloway Inn.
“It’s like you’re a princess who makes everyone feel happy and welcome.” That was the beginning of a brand-new game of make-believe that had Chloe pretending to be a princess. Gigi was her faithful servant.
They were having so much fun that it shouldn’t have been surprising when Gigi suggested Daniel and Elle have a date night so that Chloe could stay and play longer. After what had transpired the other night when she had blurted out her feelings for Daniel and then Gigi and Zelda had come to verbal blows, Elle had been hesitant to ask for Chloe to stay, but Gigi had relieved her of that task by volunteering. Actually, she had insisted.
On Friday morning, when Daniel and Chloe had arrived, Gigi said, “Why don’t you leave that sweet little girl here with me and y’all go out and have a good time. She goes off to camp next week. I’m going to miss having her here.”
That evening, he had done just that. He had gone home to change and then returned to the Forsyth to pick up Elle.
* * *
She was gorgeous in the not-too-dressy black dress—that still showed she’d made an extra effort—and flat sandals laced around her tan ankles. She looked so good it almost stopped him in his tracks. She had twisted her long, blond hair off her face and put on enough makeup to look polished but not spackled.
First they drove to the Crystal Beer Parlor on Jones Street, where they had dinner and drinks. They were seated side by side in a booth in the back of the restaurant. He’d turned on the seat so that he was facing her. His knee was touching her thigh under the checkered tablecloth. He put his hand on her leg, caressing it, inching it ever so slightly under the hem of her dress.
“What’s the story behind this place?” Her body shifted so that she pressed into him a little more. The connection was electric. He could tell that she felt it, too. He wished he could scoop her up and take her to his house and forget the pretense of dinner. But he wanted to give her more than that. Their history had been him taking what he wanted. He wanted to show her that he was better than that. She deserved better than that.
