Читать книгу Every Kind of Heaven & Everyday Blessings: Every Kind of Heaven / Everyday Blessings - Jillian Hart - Страница 11

“Mission accomplished. No trouble at all.”

His voice moved through Ava like a warm breeze. She turned toward him as her car’s alarm went off. While the vehicle honked and the headlights flashed, he calmly opened the back door, grabbed the key ring with the remote and pressed the button. The horn silenced, the headlights died.

For him, it had been simple. But for her? She’d had to stand here and watch him, knowing he was helping her out of sympathy. Because he’d felt pity for his little sister’s friend.

She would rather fall through a big black hole in the ground than have to look Brice Donovan in the eye one more time. Sure, he was being gallant and incredibly nice, but it wasn’t as if she could erase the things she’d said to him. She heard all the adjectives she’d called him roll around in her head. Mr. Yuck. Riffraff. She’d told him to get some morals. How could she have not recognized him? How could she have made such a mistake?

“All done. And without any damage, thanks to the caterer.” He finished bending a wire hanger back into place, but his gaze seared her from six feet away. “Lucky for us she had this in her van.”

“Yep, lucky for us.” But she didn’t feel fortunate. Her nose was still strawberry red, but now it felt hot, too, as if it were glowing under its own energy source.

He opened her driver’s side door, looking every inch the handsome millionaire in the designer tux he wore, which fit him like a vision. Of course. He appeared every inch the proverbial prince. And suddenly she knew how Cinderella felt in her ragged dress, wishing she could put on a fancy dress and change her circumstances.

“Here are your keys.” They rested on his wide, capable palm.

She couldn’t help but notice how strong his hand was. Calluses roughened his skin, as if he worked hard for a living. But that couldn’t be. Wasn’t he a trust fund kind of guy?

“Thanks, again.”

It took all her willpower to meet his gaze. His eyes were so kind and tender. Clearly, he wasn’t holding the mistaken identity thing against her. What a relief.

“Goodbye, Brice.” She scooped the keys from his hand as quickly as she could, but her fingertips brushed his hand.

It was like touching a piece of heaven. A corner of serenity. The shame within her faded until there was only a hush in her soul. She didn’t know why this happened, but it couldn’t be a good sign. She hopped into her car, grabbed her belt as Brice closed her door. Their gazes met, held through the tempered glass, and her world stilled. Her heart forgot to beat.

Probably from the aftereffects of a lethal dose of embarrassment and nothing else—surely not interest, she told herself as she started the engine. But she knew, down deep, that wasn’t the truth. The truth wasn’t something she could examine too closely.

She drove away, into the sun, purposefully keeping her gaze on the road ahead. She resisted the urge to peek at her rearview mirror and see if he was standing there, watching her go.

* * *

Chloe had cried in happiness at her first glimpse of the wedding cake. The cake had been cut, pictures taken, and everyone in the ballroom had been served, and still he could hear the conversation buzzing about the unbelievable cake. It had looked like a porcelain creation of art and beauty, impossible that it was edible. But every piece, from the intricate lace ruffles to the golden beads to the delicate curls of rose petals, had tasted as sweet as heaven.

Each of the two hundred carefully stacked serving boxes, printed to match the lacework of the cake, held an individual cake for the guests to take home. A heart-shaped version with sugary miniature rosebuds and golden ribbons. He thought of the woman who had done so much work as a gift to his sister. Chloe didn’t know it yet since he hadn’t found the moment to tell her. She looked as happy as a princess in her frosty-white gown at her husband’s side.

Brice thanked God for his sister’s happiness. He wouldn’t mind having some of that kind of joy of his own. He took a gulp of sparkling cider, draining the glass. This was the spot where Ava had stood earlier this morning, with the pale morning sunshine sprinkling over her like a blessing.

Then she’d driven away. What had she been thinking? Did she like him at all? She hadn’t acted like it, and yet he’d thought he’d glimpsed something in her eyes. Something that made him think she might be feeling this, too.

Then again, she’d driven off pretty fast. That couldn’t be the best sign.

“There you are, big brother. You’ve been hiding.” Chloe swept close in her cloud of a dress.

“You know me. All this fancy stuff makes me itch.”

She slipped her arm through his. “You look dashing. Five of my former sorority sisters asked me if you were seeing someone.”

“And you said…?”

“That you seem to be interested in someone. But if I’m wrong, I have a long list of available women I can set you up with, Mr. Most Eligible Bachelor.”

“You know I had nothing to do with that. It’s not me.” That only made him feel more out of place. Like he was a rich playboy looking for a fast lifestyle or a great catch for a debutante—both equally wrong.

All he wanted was to trade in this getup for his favorite T-shirt, jeans and his broken-in work boots. That’s who he really was, and all this glam and glitter made his palms sweat. He swept his hand toward the cake. “You don’t need to set me up with a date. I can do it myself.”

“Would you rather Mom did it? She’s working on it, you know. I was just trying to help out.”

“I know.” If anyone knew how rough of a time he’d had after the breakup with Whitney, it was Chloe. She meant well. “I can handle it from here.”

“I never doubted it.” She rose up on tiptoe to brush a sisterly kiss to his cheek. “I want you to be happy. I saw how you looked at Ava at my shower.”

“Exactly how was that?”

“Like you were glimpsing heaven. Don’t worry, I haven’t said anything to her, but you should ask her out. I bet she says yes.”

“I’ve tried that, but I don’t think she likes me.” Like he needed his baby sister’s dating advice. He could handle his own love life just fine. “She said no.”

“And since when does Brice Donovan take no for an answer?” She flounced away, grinning over her shoulder at him. “Try again, silly. Look out, here comes Mom.”

The problem was, his mother had been dropping some pretty strong hints lately. Now that she had Chloe successfully matched, she must be refocusing her energy on him. She seemed determined as she barreled through the crowd. Flawless, dressed in diamonds and flowing silk, she looked deceptively like a genteel upper-class lady instead of the five-star general she really was.

“Brice. You have been hiding again.” She tugged at his tie, unknotted and hanging loose. “This isn’t a barnyard. And what are you doing all the way over here? What are people going to think?”

He accepted the china dessert plate a server handed him. “Maybe people will think that I’m having a second piece of cake.”

“Yes. The cake. Horrible, that’s what it is. I don’t know what Chloe was thinking going with that McKaslin girl.”

“That she wanted her friend to make her wedding cake.”

“Ridiculous. That cake is unsophisticated and completely unacceptable. And the taste of it, why, it’s much too sweet. What is wrong with that girl? I told Chloe. I said, you’re going to regret going with her.”

“Mom, stop. You’re doing it again.”

“But did she listen to me? No, she had to have her own way. We ought to have gone with a professional, not some iffy girl who thinks because our family is richer than hers, she has the right to charge us an arm and a leg.”

He laid a hand on his mom’s arm to stop her. Sometimes she got such a wind going—sort of like gravity’s effect on a snowball rolling downhill—that she simply couldn’t realize what she was saying. “Chloe’s happy, and that’s all that matters. Besides, how much did Ava charge?”

“Ava, is it?” Mom’s face pinched, something only she could do and still look dignified. “I wouldn’t be so familiar with her if I were you. Her family has money, goodness, but that mother of hers.”

“People have been known to say the same thing about Chloe.” He said it gently, because he knew his mother didn’t mean to be harsh. She simply wasn’t aware of it. “I think Ava did an amazing job. So does everyone else in the room. Maybe you should learn to like sweet. You’re awfully fond of the bitter.”

“That had better not be a veiled reference to me, young man.” His mom smiled and tried to hide it, but her eyes were twinkling. “I work hard for this reputation. If people aren’t afraid of you, they take advantage. Now, come with me and say hello to a few of my dear friends.”

“To the daughters of your friends, you mean.”

“Crystal Frost is back from her disastrous divorce to that big real estate broker in Seattle. She’s perfect for you.”

“Perfect? I don’t think so.” He took a bite of cake, and sweetness flooded his mouth. The frosting was as rich as cream cheese, and the cake was delicious and buttery. Perfect.

“Hello, Brice. Excuse me.” One of his mother’s friends had sauntered over and gestured toward the cake. “Lynn, this is all so lovely. I came to plead for the name of the designer. My Carly must have a cake like this for her wedding.”

Brice knew it would probably drain his mother of her life energy to say something kind about anyone. She was his mom, so he tried to save her from herself. And he wanted to help the cute baker, even if she didn’t want to have coffee with him. “Ava McKaslin is the designer and I highly recommend her. Chloe loved working with her.”

“Oh, let me think which McKaslin girl. Oh, of course. The friend of your sister’s. One of the twins?”

“Yep. She has a shop off Cherry Lane. My company starts renovation on it this week.”

“I know which shop you mean. Why, thank you, Brice. You do know that my Crystal is back from Seattle. She’s here somewhere.” Maxime scanned the room. “Where did she go?”

Uh-oh. Time to escape while he could. “I have to go. Mrs. Frost, it was good seeing you again. Bye, Mom.”

He left quickly and didn’t look back. It wasn’t until he hit the foyer that he realized he still had hold of his dessert plate. Ava’s cake. As if he couldn’t quite let her go.

* * *

The only reason Ava heard her cell ring was because of the break between songs. The electronic chime echoed in the silence of her shop’s kitchen. She set down her pastry cone, hit the Pause button on her CD player and went in search of her phone.

Not in her apron pocket. Not on the kitchen counter. She followed the electronic ringing to her gym bag. She unzipped the outside compartment and ta da, there it was.

As she grabbed her phone, she realized it was after four. Mrs. Carnahan was supposed to drop by for the birthday cake in ten minutes! Good thing it was almost done. Well, it would be done if she’d stop fussing. But after this morning’s disaster, she wanted this cake to be perfect.

She flipped open the phone. “I’m late, I know. I was supposed to call an hour ago. My bad.”

Instead of her sister’s sensible response, a man’s resonant chuckle vibrated in her ear. “Keeping your boyfriend waiting?”

It took her a moment to place that voice. Brice Donovan. If he was calling, that could only mean one thing. “Chloe wasn’t happy with the cake?”

Disappointment drained her and she sank onto the floor next to her gym bag. Not only had she failed at something she’d tried her hardest at, something that she was good at, but she’d let down a friend. “I’m so sorry.”

“Now, wait one minute. That’s not why I’m calling.”

“It’s not?”

“No.” His voice warmed like melting chocolate, kind and friendly. “I’m calling to thank you. You made her very happy. She didn’t want to cut into the cake because it was too pretty.”

“Really? Chloe was happy? Whew!” That was a relief. Now, if she could just forget flinging insults, she’d be doing well. Don’t even think about what happened, she told herself. Look forward, not back. Don’t dwell on what went wrong.

Problem was, that was easier said and not so easy to do. She took a quivering breath. “Good. Then my work is done.”

“And your work is?”

“To make this world a sweeter place one cake at a time. I know it’s not solving world strife, but it’s the only talent I seem to have, so I’m going with it.”

“Surely that’s not your only gift.”

“Uh, you don’t want to hear the long list of disasters I’ve left in my wake. Speaking of which, I have a cake to get ready and box for a client.”

“You can’t do that and talk to me?”

“If I want to drop the cake. I need two hands.”

Don’t think of him in that tux, she thought. Or how amazing he looked. Or how kind he’d been when he’d helped her recover her keys. What had he been thinking when she’d driven away? That unreadable expression in his eyes came back to her now and unsettled her. Why?

Just forget it, Ava. Just forget him. “I appreciate the call. Thank you.”

“Well, now, I’m not done with you yet.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She couldn’t keep the curiosity out of her voice. Or the smile. Both the humiliation she’d felt and the failure seemed far away. Maybe it was because she knew this was a pity call. He felt sorry for the dopey cake lady. Face it, he was Mr. Wow, and she was lucky to keep the date and time straight.

That meant this was a business call. How great was that? She hadn’t totally embarrassed herself beyond redemption after all. Cool. “Hopefully you’re interested in placing an order?”

“You’ve got a renovation coming up. How are you going to fill your orders?”

He probably knew about the upcoming renovation because Chloe had been the one to recommend a construction company. “I’m planning on using my sister’s kitchen. She’s spending most of her evenings with her fiancé and his daughter, so I’ve commandeered her condo.”

“Then maybe you and I can talk later. Say, Monday morning, bright and early?”

“Oops. Can’t. I have construction dudes coming by bright and early.”

“That’s a coincidence because I—”

“I’m totally sorry, but my customer is here. Can I call you back and we can make an appointment? I can show you my catalogue and have some samples ready.”

“Why don’t I come by on Monday sometime?” Brice leaned back in his car seat and could see the bakery’s front door over the curve of the side mirror. There was a grandmotherly woman at the front door, waving at Ava through the glass.

“Thanks, Mr. Donovan. I really appreciate this. Bye!” There was a click in his ear.

He slid his sunglasses down his nose to get a better view as the front door swung open and there was Ava, dressed in her jeans and that yellow T-shirt, her hair tied back and her genuine smile bright as she waved her hands, talking away to her customer.

Okay, this wasn’t how he figured things would go. Again. Ava wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

She caught his gaze again, moving back into sight with a cake made like a giant dump truck. The red chassis and the bright blue bed made it look like the real toy. Even from a distance, he could see the details. The driver behind the steering wheel, the big black tires, and real-looking dirt.

When she opened the other box, he watched the grandmother’s face brighten a notch. There were what had to be small cake rocks about the size of his thumb in chubby yellow buckets. One for each little guest, he figured.

The grandmother looked delighted. But it was the sight of Ava that drew him, multifaceted and flawless, shining like one perfect jewel. She probably didn’t realize how she shone from the inside out when she was happy. How caring she was as she refolded the side panels and tucked the lids of the boxes into place. How she waved away what was probably a compliment with ease. She was like no one he’d ever seen before.

Something happened inside him when he looked at Ava. Something that made his spirit come more alive.

He was going to try again. She was a sparkle he could not resist.

He put the car into gear and started driving. Her cheerful words replayed in his mind. Hopefully you’re interested in placing an order? She’d sounded so full of joy. How was he going to tell her he hadn’t meant he wanted to order a cake, but to talk to her about that cup of coffee he’d mentioned earlier?

And what about the renovation? She’d sounded as if the construction guys who were coming had nothing to do with him and his company. She did know he was a part owner, right?

Then again, Ava might not have noticed. His business partner, Rafe, had handled the contracts and the scheduling, and was supervising this project.

Brice hit the speed dial on his cell and waited for it to connect. He’d see if Rafe wouldn’t mind switching jobs. Being around Ava every working day for the next two weeks sounded like a good idea. No, a brilliant idea, considering how much he wanted to get to know her.

How would she take it? He was definitely anxious to see the look on her face when he walked into her shop bright and early Monday morning. What would happen then? Only God knew.

One thing was for sure, it was going to be a whole lot of fun to find out.

* * *

“Good news!” Ava announced as she sailed through the front door of their apartment. “Mrs. Carnahan loved the cake. She said her little grandson was going to be so happy. And your idea about adding bonus party favors at no charge—it was brilliant. She loved the little rocks I made.”

Her twin, Aubrey, poked her head out of the kitchen. “What did I tell you?”

“I know, you’re always right. I don’t deny it.” Ava rolled her eyes, shut the door with her foot and dropped her purse, gym bag and keys on the floor. “Instead of take-out burgers, I splurged and got Thai. Cashew chicken, stir-fried rice and that noodle dish you love.”

“Well done.” Aubrey’s smile turned full-fledged as she reached for the big take-out sack. “Hurry up, get changed. I’ll get us all set up.”

“I’m late, I know. But it was an excellent day despite it all. Who knew?” Ava took off for her bedroom, a total disaster. One day when she got enough time, it would be the epitome of orderliness. But since she wasn’t sure when that would be, she had to go with the flow.

Knowing Aubrey was waiting, she tossed her clothes on the floor, kicked her sandals toward the closet and dug around in the laundry basket of clean clothes for her favorite sweatpants and T-shirt. After she found her fuzziest socks, she flew down the little hall.

Aubrey was in the living room setting two heaping plates of food onto two TV trays facing the wide-screen TV they couldn’t afford but got anyway. Not smart, and her poor credit card was bent from the weight of debt, but it was nice to watch Clark Gable in forty-two-inch glory.

“If you would have remembered to call before I hit the video store, you would have had some say in tonight’s movie,” Aubrey said as she settled down on the couch.

“Hey, the cell waves work both ways. You could have called me.”

“I’m always calling you.” Aubrey reached for her napkin and shook it open over her lap. “So, I take it the Donovan cake delivery went well this morning. You haven’t mentioned the groom. What happened with that?”

“Oh, that’s a disaster. Total doom. You know me.” While she’d told her sister about insulting Brice Donovan, she hadn’t given her the day’s full update.

“Men.” Aubrey shook her head, disapproving. “And to think Chloe’s groom, Mark Upton, is supposed to be like last year’s most eligible bachelor. Philanthropic. An upstanding Christian. I guess it just shows, you never know about some men. They show one face when they really have another.”

“Well, now, that’s not exactly the case.” Ava slipped behind the TV tray and plopped onto the couch. “Whew, I’m starved. Your turn to say the blessing.”

“What happened? Are you telling me that he showed up this morning at the country club and apologized? Or no, there was a mix up. He didn’t proposition you, did he? You jumped to conclusions like you always do and accused him of it. Right? When it wasn’t true?”

“You’re partly right. I was asked out to coffee, sure, but it wasn’t by Mr. Upland. I thought it was, but you know me, like I can remember everyone I’ve ever met.”

“We went to school with Mark Upton. Don’t you remember?”

“I was busy in high school. How was I supposed to know everyone? Besides, I don’t recognize a lot of people. I’m not good with faces.”

“Or names.”

“Or names.” How could she argue with that? She wanted to keep things light and funny, that’s the way she felt comfortable with everything. Anything serious or painful, well, that made her feel way too much. And once you started really feeling, then you had to face all the other emotions you were trying to avoid.

Avoidance was a very good policy. At least, she was doing fine avoiding the things that hurt the most. Take today. She didn’t have to think about the fact that Brice Donovan might think she was a disaster, too, but he wanted to order a cake. She’d concentrate on the cake part, and try hard not to think about anything else.

Not that she was having the greatest luck with that.

“So what really happened?” Aubrey asked, taking possession of the remote before Ava could grab it and divert her with the movie. “It’s okay. You can tell me. It isn’t as bad as you think. Really.”

Easy for Aubrey, who thought things through before she opened her mouth. Aubrey who never made a mistake of any kind, who never embarrassed herself, who never locked her keys in the car.

Remembering how Brice Donovan’s voice had sounded, kind and not belittling, made the yuck of her morning fade a few shades.

“I’ll tell you after the movie.” Ava shrugged. Some things she didn’t even want to talk about, even with her twin. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be, and she knew it made Aubrey sad to be shut out like that, but she didn’t want to share every detail.

She wanted to do things right for a change—not just try really hard and then fail, but to really stay focused and careful and committed. One day, maybe she could be the girl who didn’t make a mess, who didn’t insult Bozeman’s most eligible bachelor or who frustrated people so much they simply left her for good.

As Aubrey bowed her head, beginning the blessing, Ava bowed her head, too. But she added a silent prayer to Aubrey’s. Show me the way, Lord. Please, I don’t want to mess up anymore. Show me how to be different. Better.

There was no answer, just the click of the remote as Aubrey hit a button. The TV flared to life, showing a classic movie with a silver-screen hero. Maybe if she met a man like that, she might make an exception to her no-man policy.

She grabbed her fork and dug into the cashew chicken, but did she pay attention to the movie? No. Who was she thinking about?

Brice Donovan and how he’d looked like a real gentleman in his tux. How he’d looked like one of her forgotten dreams when he’d been standing in the full brightness of the morning sun, looking as vibrant and as substantial as a legend come true. But it was just a trick of the light. Legends didn’t exist in real life, and real love didn’t happen to her.