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I only glare at her, my mood already foul by the bright, sunny morning. “I wouldn’t snap at people if they did their job properly, and didn’t forget half my order,” I growl defensively, under my breath. The carriage of the delivery truck slams shut, as the driver I was berating when Veronica arrived, gives me the not-so-subtle stink-eye.
“I very much doubt that Willard here is to blame for us missing only two crates,” Veronica points out acerbically. “There’s a whole chain of command in the supply line, and being a little short on inventory is not what has got you so bothered lately.”
Groaning, I rub tiredly at my face as I begin the process of opening the store. Ronnie comes up to help me faithfully, but I can tell from her expression that she isn’t done reaming me out just yet.
“You’re mad because things didn’t work with Gabriella, the way you wanted them to.” Her assessment is accurate, loathe as I am to admit it. Veronica has always been a smart cookie, and infuriatingly perceptive.
“Look, I thought we had a real connection, but she just doesn’t seem that interested. I’m not going to stew over it, I’m just going to get over it, and move on,” I reply tersely. It’s been my self-mantra for the past week, and so far, it’s working splendidly.
Sort of. There’s the sound of tinkling laughter already coming from the cafe, and my eyes automatically snap in that direction, before I recall my words. To her credit, Veronica says nothing about my reaction, she simply continues to shove boxes inside.
“You know, you really ought to try talking to her again. Maybe somewhere more intimate,” she suggests softly, her tone lacking her usual sarcasm.
“Like I said, she’s not interested. She’s turned me down, or blown me off, every chance she gets,” I ground out, scowling resentfully.
Veronica shrugs, and we spend the next few minutes in contemplative silence, before she speaks again. “Perhaps you’re right— maybe you guys just aren’t meant to be. Who knows, maybe she’ll find someone at the auction tomorrow, and you won’t have to concern yourself with impressing her anymore,” she contributes.
I lock instinctively when hearing this information. Something dark and turbulent stirs in my stomach, while I try to swallow down a sudden bolt of anxiety. “Gabriella is going to be at the auction?”
The community center charity auction has been the talk of the town for a few weeks now. After many faithful years of service, the haunted rec center that had served our beloved town for decades was more ruin than actual building. At which point, Mayor Wendell had declared the land ‘hallowed ground’, and put forth the proposition for a new community center.
Practically everyone in town would be stopping by at some point, and most of the town’s eligible bachelors and bachelorettes would be in attendance, with the spotlight on Curiosity’s loveliest ladies. I know that the last thing Gabriella would want is to be put under the town’s microscope.
Veronica simply shrugs in response. “The ladies at the sewing circle recommended that she use it as a way to meet some more of the townspeople, and she seemed keen on the idea. She looked a little lonely, and the women thought it would be a good way to raise her spirits.”
I spend the rest of the day thinking about the information Veronica dangled. Sure, Gabriella’s rejection hurt, but that doesn’t mean I want to see her discomfited. Not that I think anyone in Curiosity would behave maliciously, but I also know how she has struggled to adjust to our community’s ways.
At the very least, I don’t want to see all of her efforts go to waste. I also ignore the tinge of jealousy I feel, at the thought of her offering herself up for a date with a complete stranger.
Which is how I find myself striding into the venue the next afternoon, with a few saved bills, staring at Ms. Perez trying to keep up a brave face, subjecting herself to the town’s scrutiny.
Before I know it, I’m waving a fresh note in my hand, and offering up one of the highest bids for an afternoon with her.Also for charity, I remind myself. But as she practically runs toward me, perfect in pink, the only thing I am thinking about is how wonderful it is to be back in her atmosphere.
She looks up, smiling shyly at me, and the tight knot that has been pressing on my chest for the last week starts to loosen. “Care to have lunch with me, Ms. Perez?” I ask, as casually as I can muster, as I hand my money to one of the coordinators. Gabriella nods enthusiastically, and I grab her hand as we walk out the door, determined this time to not let her go so easily.
It’s another breezy day, and the clouds are bright in the sky. She looks so beautiful in her sundress and matching slippers tapping on the sidewalk and smiling at me as if I had just given her the sun. Although I had resolved to bury my attraction for her, just being around her for a few minutes is enough to bring it back full force.
Doesn’t this woman realize she has me completely enthralled under her spell? We walk together along the sidewalk, enjoying the day, and she directs me toward the cafe. “Don’t worry, I closed it up for the day.” she answers my silent concern, as if she was reading my thoughts. Maybe she picked up a trick from Sybil, our local clairvoyant. “That way it will be just the two of us.”
I suppress a shiver of delight, recalling the last time it was the two of us. She unlocks the door and we enter through the kitchen at the back. Studying her, I watch as she flips on the lights and begins pulling out the ingredients for a meal, fascinated by her thoughtful and precise movements. Gabriella may be awkward and uncertain around the people of Curiosity, but here she is in her element.
“I can’t thank you enough for this Chet, really,” she starts suddenly, breaking me out of my train of thought. “You really are my lifesaver.”
“It wasn’t a problem,” I reply easily. It wasn’t really. Just the slightest hint she might be in distress, and I was like a dog seeking its master, despite whatever promises I had made to myself. “Besides, it was for a good cause and I get a free meal out of it. What’s on the menu, anyway?”
Something like a cloud seems to pass over her eyes, but it’s gone in a moment. She goes back to prepping. “I was thinking shrimp primavera, if that’s alright with you, or I could get something else together, if you’d prefer?”
“That’s fine,” I answer, my gaze thoughtful. I take in her small movements, and the way her dress swirls around her knees. “How… Well, how are things with you lately?”
“Oh, it’s going well, really, just getting to know the townsfolk and all, like you suggested.” She moves to set a pot in the sink, and I automatically turn the water to fill it. “The charity might have been a bit much though, and I was so embarrassed!” she exclaims, moving back to the cutting board.
“You were great up there,” I say reassuringly, as I shut off the water. Moving the pot to the small stove, I light the burner, appreciative of the distraction. With something to occupy my hands, there is less chance of me taking her in my arms.
“Yeah, right,” she quips back, chopping some herbs. “I was a melting cupcake that no one wanted to waste their money on—not even for charity.” My eyes widen in surprise at her assessment, but she continues, voice picking up speed.
“Really it’s understandable, after all I’m the oddball out here. But not a single person even raised their hand, and you had to rescue me—again, and you’re angry with me! I’m just so, so grateful, I can’t tell you how much, and I’m so, so sorry for what I did to make you mad—”
“Whoa, Gabriella, slow down,” I murmur, looking at her incredulously. Turning, I gently reach out to draw her to me, crooking a finger just under her chin. It’s a simple, innocent touch, but after depriving myself for a week of her presence, just the contact alone is enough to make my blood sing.
