She picks up a spool of thread from one of the shelves. “We’ll figure it out, but she would’ve wanted you guys to have it. What am I going to do with it? I can’t thread a needle, let alone teach someone to sew.”
“Thanks, but it doesn’t seem right that we’re talking about it today.”
She smiles at me. “Maybe, but when then? I couldn’t be in that bar with all those people staring at me for any longer. Xavier’s all over me like a damn linebacker. I appreciate it, I do, but I just want to be by myself. Handle her affairs, remember her, and move on.”
I hug her. I was exactly where she was years ago. “I know it hurts and you want to move on and forget this pain, but believe me, one day you’ll think of her and it won’t hurt nearly as much.”
She squeezes me. “Thank you for that.”
I nod.
“There you are.” Xavier walks in, stepping over patterns and fabric that must have fallen at some point.
Clara smirks. “I’m here. Can you just take me home?”
Xavier nods and puts his arm around her. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
“Thanks, Clara,” I say.
She turns around. “You’re welcome.”
Xavier is babying her because we know what it’s like to lose a parent. Clara’s lost two and her grandma. As annoying as my big family can be at times, I can’t imagine having no one left.
As I’m about to pocket the key and keep this conversation to myself until I know she means it and wants to sell it to us, Jed walks through the door. “So is it true?”
“What?”
“That she gave you the key? That she’s going to sell us the space?”
So much for keeping it quiet and making sure it’s not just her grief talking.
I look around the space, trying to figure how much we’ll have to renovate, how we’ll manage the support beams by tearing down the wall.
Jed’s already got a pencil and an old pattern laid out, writing a floor plan on the back of it. “Do you think we need more seating? Maybe we should just expand our production so we can offer more flavors, more options for grocery stores.”
“I think we should expand the seating. Remember during tourist season how long the line was? We had to turn people away. Doubtful we could get a beer garden in here, but it might be worth talking to an architect.”
“Then we’d have to go to the town and get approval. Plus, we’re in Alaska. We’d only be able to use it less than half the year.”
“You make Alaskans sound weak. We’re used to braving the cold.” I walk to the front window and the foggy glass that Mrs. Harrison used to keep crystal clear. “This seems horribly disrespectful. Let’s wait to make plans until Clara has a few days to think this through.”
He drops the pencil and crosses his arms. Jed isn’t an asshole—he’s become my best friend over the years, which is funny since I hated him when he first came to town—but sometimes he gets tunnel vision and forgets his manners.
So I’m not surprised that after a moment he nods, agreeing with me. “Okay then, let’s talk about the blonde.”
“I don’t really care who she is.”
He jumps off the table and meets me at the window. “I’m not saying you care in the same way Nikki does, but you couldn’t stop looking at her.”
“Funny that you think I was into her, yet you went and tried to snatch her up first.”
He laughs and stuffs his hands into his jeans pockets. “Why do you think I did that?”
I glance at him. “Because she was more into me, you’re gonna act like you hit on her to spur me to make a move? Of course you’d play it that way.”
He chuckles again and holds up his hands. “I swear. I have no interest in the woman.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, okay.”
“She didn’t give off the vibe I like.” He shrugs.
“Vibe?”
“She looks like the kind of girl who has a stipulation of, like, four dates before she’ll sleep with you.” He smacks me on the back. “That’s more you than me.”
I tilt my head and wrinkle my forehead. “And what exactly does that say about me?”
“Come on, you were the steady boyfriend in high school. Reese?”
“I’m far from the guy I was in high school.”
“I’m amazed you got out of college without a fiancée.” He walks back, snags the papers from the desk, folds them, and puts them in his back pocket.
“I wasn’t looking for one. In fact, I purposely made sure not to go down that road.”
He turns around and points at me. “Exactly, and that’s the difference between us. I didn’t have to mentally tell myself not to get serious with anyone. I knew I’d never get to that point with a woman.”
I’m not going to call Jed out on his crap, but his parents’ divorce kind of messed him up. His dad was a complete douche and cheated on Marla, then he apparently cheated on his second wife too. I think Jed is worried that adultery is a genetic affliction or something.
“Tell me one reason why you aren’t married with two kids yet?” He crosses his arms and gives me a look like, “This should be good.”
“First of all, I’m only thirty. And I’m not getting married, maybe ever.” I brush past him toward the back door. I haven’t made my mind up completely about whether I’ll ever get married, but I’m damn sure not ready to open myself up for that anytime soon.
Jed stops before we exit and stares at me for a moment as though he wants to call me out, but he places his hand on my shoulder and doesn’t go there. Instead he says, “A date doesn’t mean forever. If you see the blonde again, ask her out.”
I say nothing. Presley’s and my conversation was easy. I love that she knows nothing about me. She doesn’t know I’m Cade Greene, once a twelve-year-old boy who lost his mother tragically. Cade Greene, son of handyman extraordinaire, Hank Greene, who took over the business from his dad. Cade Greene, stepson to Marla Greene, the woman involved in every fundraiser and committee in town. And Cade Greene, brother to four, stepbrother to four, and half brother to one. My family name in this town has a long past, and I never forget that. Neither does anyone in town.
I shrug. “Maybe if I ever see her again.”
He opens the door, the low light flickering through the trees behind the back parking lot. “Thata guy!”
Of course, I’m sure that woman is long gone by now.
The next morning, I take an Uber from Glacier Point Resort in Lake Starlight to the lawyer’s office since I didn’t want to stay in Sunrise Bay.
I climb out of the car under the dark awning that says Trent Lawson, Attorney at Law. The bell rings when I step into the small office. There’s one desk with a middle-aged receptionist sitting behind it.
She peeks up and her eyes widen. I saw her at the funeral yesterday. She was among the group of people talking about whatever that competition thing was. “Hello,” she says and looks down. “You must be Presley Knight?”
I nod.
She smiles. “Let me just poke my head in to see if Mr. Lawson is ready for you.”