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“It’s fine, really. Sand Dune Studio has been quietly struggling for a while. Quirky, high-end ceramics are just not working in a tourist town. People want cheap knickknacks from their vacations.” I shrugged. “I get it.”
Lee tipped a dark eyebrow upward. “What about the other idea?”
I frowned at him. A few too many glasses of wine and I’d spilled an idea for a space that I truly believed would be amazing for Outtatowner. The idea really came from his niece. Wyatt had been struggling to come up with a birthday party idea, so his girlfriend Lark and I had suggested throwing an art party. I had molded and fired cutesy shapes—beehive mugs, piggy banks shaped like unicorns, a goofy-looking cobra with googly eyes—and the kids had a blast decorating them with various colors of glaze. At the party I taught them different techniques and reveled in the laughter and the mess. Afterward, I finished the pieces in the kiln and, within a few days, each little guest had his or her own unique piece of art.
Penny had beamed and made the comment, “I would do this every day if I could!” It was then my wheels had started turning.
I envisioned a large open-air space. Soaring ceilings with a vintage charm. An art studio where anyone, regardless of age or artistic talent, could come and explore art and crafting. Tourists and townies alike could spend hours—a whole day—painting their own pottery, stringing beads, and mosaicking. I envisioned a space where I could share my passion for art, but let artists of all ages explore it at their own pace. They could leave with unique, custom art created with love by the artists themselves.
But it was a pipe dream that required money.
“I can barely afford this place.” I gestured toward the paper he held. “Definitely can’t afford it now. Plus, I would need a space for tables and unfinished pottery. Paints, mosaic tiles, kilns—plural. It’s just too much.”
Lee frowned at the paper. He knew I was right.
I tipped my head toward Lee and sighed. “This is depressing. Can we please talk about something else?”
Lee rubbed his hands up his jean-clad thighs. “Yep. Let’s talk about our date.”
My mind sputtered to a halt, and I choked on absolutely nothing. “Date?”
His eyebrows lifted up. “Yeah. Date. You told Bug we had dinner plans so ... pick you up at seven thirty?”
“Lee. Come on. You didn’t think I was serious, did you? I was just helping you out.” I laughed and turned away to keep him from seeing the color flood my pale cheeks.
“Oh, I am serious. And youaregoing to help me out.”
I painted on a smile but could feel the tension wobble at the corners. “You know I only said that to keep her off your back about the gala.”
“I’m aware, and it was genius. But it’s out there now. I already got, like, four calls about us going out, and I haven’t heard another word about who I plan to bid on at the Matchmakers' Gala.”
I stared at my best friend. In the years we’d known each other, we’d neveroncebeen on anything remotely close to a date.
“Come on. We eat together all the time. Only this time I’ll pull your chair out, politely nod, and say,Oh, that is so interesting, Annette,to whatever it is you’re talking about.”
Right. Only ...notlike a real date because this is Lee and he is never serious about anything, especially relationships.
I laughed. “You’re a real charmer. You know as well as I do, girls like me and guys like you never work out. But look at us––we’re proof why friends are better.”
Instead of laughing at the joke, a small muscle in Lee’s jaw flexed, my smile slightly wobbling at the corner under his unwavering gaze.
He stood from the stool and crossed his arms. “Fine. You don’t want to do it, help me find someone else.”
I rolled my eyes with a snort. “Like you need any help getting a date.”
Lee paused and stopped me with his suddenly serious stare. My breath hitched at his intensity. “I really can’t go through the gala this year. It’s humiliation disguised as charity. Please.”
It was the sad way thatpleasetangled with a sigh that did me in.
“I know.” I frowned as I considered what he was saying. My own dating life was totally lackluster, but I knew plenty of women who would find Lee absolutely charming. Girls who came from nice families and had smooth straight hair and didn’t fill awkward silences with random internet facts.
I sighed. “You know, everyone is always saying there are plenty of fish in the sea, and somehow I got hung up on one specific emotionally distant salmon with commitment issues.”
Lee laughed. “Charles is an idiot.” He lifted his hands after I shot him a dirty look. “What? He is.Youare the catch. Maybe you just need to show him what he’s missing.”
I had been talking about Charles, hadn’t I?
I cast a wary gaze his way. “I don’t even know where to look anymore.”
