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“I wanted to help wherever I could,” I explained, sitting down and folding my hands in my lap. “Ivey’s has become very dear to me, and I had no idea that you were in the hospital until Frankie told me a little while ago. I would have helped sooner had I known. And because of the nature of our transaction, I couldn’t help but feel… responsible.”
“How so?”
“When I bought your shares, I wasn’t aware of the reason you were selling them. I’d had my eye on the store for a long time, and when I found out you were selling, I jumped. I had no idea you’d lose more than you’d gain out of the sale.”
“I understand that,” she said, smiling ruefully. “I take it you go this far for all your employees then?”
I stared at her, too shell-shocked to form a verbal response. She smiled knowingly.
“That’s-,” I paused, wilting a little under her gaze. “I mean,no. But I’ve never really been personally involved until now.”
“Personally involved?” she echoed, and I wanted to punch myself for my very,verypoor choice of words.
“What I mean is, Ivey’s has been a very different acquisition,” I said, desperately trying to cover my slip-up. “And with Frankie at the helm, fighting me tooth and nail to keep the essence of her family alive and well, it was difficult not to feel involved.”
“She’s my fighter,” she said, a quiet pride in her words. “I’m surprised she didn’t send you running for the hills.”
“Oh, it would take a lot more to get me to give up.” I laughed. “She was never unpleasant, just vehemently against everything I suggested.”
“I may owe you an apology for that.” She chuckled. “My husband and I asked her to take care of the store and keep our vision for it alive. She may have taken it a little too far.”
“No apology necessary. She showed me the true value of the store and its potential. Any success we have from now on rests largely on her stubborn shoulders.”
Mrs. Ivey smiled to herself, her fingers toying with her wedding band.
“It makes me very happy to hear you say that,” she confessed. “I know that a lot of people won’t see my daughter for what she is, or what she tries to do. She can come across as a difficult woman, but she’s loyal to a fault. Sometimes too loyal.”
“Loyalty is certainly something I could get used to,” I admitted. “And, after fighting old white guys over business ideals, Frankie’s as difficult as a kitten. She is, however, terrifying when she’s mad.”
Mrs. Ivey laughed out loud, the sound so strikingly similar to Frankie’s that my stomach squeezed.
“That,” she said, chuckling to herself, “she gets from me, I’m afraid. Her father is the softer of the two of us. She got his heart and my temper.”
“Which of you is the cook?” I joked. “Because she clearly inherited that as well.”
“Me, actually,” she replied. “Although, I don’t think I’ve cooked in ages.”
“Why not?”
“My husband loves to cook for me,” she said sweetly like it was a secret of sorts. “From the moment we met, he insisted on making sure I always ate. So he taught himself to cook all my favorite dishes; even if he was terrible at them.”
Warmth fluttered in my chest, at the sudden need to experience a love like theirs for myself.
“At least he improved, right?”
She chuckled again, lifting her clear eyes to mine. “Not at all,” she said, her smile wide. “But I eat whatever he cooks, and he sings his own praises.”
Chapter thirty-five
Making Music
Frankie
Myfingerstrembledonmy guitar strings, the silence in the music store yawning wide like a chasm. “I haven’t really, uh,” I paused, and swallowed, unable to meet Hayden’s soft gaze for longer than a second. “Never really played for anyone outside my family.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said, her smile warm and open. “It’s not like this will be the only opportunity for me to hear you play.”
She said it so easily, as if she really believed there would be ample time in the future.
