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“Eh. Sort of. Sometimes the discount buyers turn into regular buyers when they realize I have the same prices as the big online store who shall not be named. Of course, I don’t drop it on their doorstep within twenty-four hours. They have to drag themselves out of the house and come to me.” She gave her head a firm shake and looked down at the desserts I’d brought. “Tell me why I’m eating this?”
“Because the bakery called and they can’t do the custard on that big of a scale after all. I guess they talked to their chef and he was adamant that it only worked in small batches so it was too much work for the price we already contracted.” I hadn’t really bought that explanation, but what was I going to do? It wasn’t like I could prove any of it. And I really wanted to stay with this vendor, if only because the idea of finding something else made me want to hop on the plane I shared with the guys and see what living in Bora Bora was really like. “This is their suggestion as an alternate.”
“Did you try them?”
I nodded.
“And?”
I gestured to the samples in front of her. “And I need you to tell me which one.”
Megan scowled at me, but she peeled the lids off both containers and took one of the spoons. After wrestling with the wrapper for a moment, she finally got it free and dipped into the chocolate mousse.
I could see she was taking her job seriously. She pondered, then took another little bite of chocolate before nodding and repeating the procedure with a new spoon and the strawberry mousse.
“Well?” It was good the guys didn’t invite the women to play on poker nights. Megan would clean us all out. Either that or she genuinely didn’t have a strong opinion either way.
“Strawberry.”
“Really?” One corner of my mouth poked up. “That was the one I liked better, too, but I thought maybe I was being dumb. It feels like chocolate should be a no-brainer. But…” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. There was nothingwrongwith the chocolate mousse. It just wasn’t as good as the strawberry.
Megan held her hand up for a high five. I slapped it.
She picked up the strawberry and scooped another bite. A much bigger one this time. “I liked the chocolate. I’d eat it if it were all there was and I wanted something. But the strawberry? I feel compelled to finish it, and I know I’m going to want more when it’s gone.”
I chuckled. “That’s a pretty good summary. All right. I’ll let them know. Thanks.”
“That’s it?”
I nodded. “Yeah? Unless…never mind.”
“Gah. Don’t do that. Unless what?” Megan set down the container and crossed her arms.
Me and my big, dumb mouth. “I know you can’t leave, but what if I brought you dinner? We could eat and hang out a little.”
It was like Megan’s gaze was boring into my soul. “You don’t like living alone.”
“Yes, I do.” Sort of. Some of the time. I shrugged. “It’s an adjustment.”
She started to laugh and had to sit down on the stool behind the counter because she didn’t seem able to stop.
“Glad I could provide some entertainment.” I frowned. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Wait.” Megan held up a hand and took a deep breath. Then another. “I’m sorry. I just know exactly how you feel. I thought it was going to be so great not having Austin around all the time. I mean there were days when I just wanted to go home and have some peace while I watched TV, but there was Austin asking about my day and all that. I miss it now, though. I get home and the house practically echoes.”
“Yes.”
I came back to the counter. Megan was batting a thousand today with her ability to put my thoughts into words. Not that it was all that unusual. It was one of the reasons I’d noticed her in the first place. After the initial, “wow, she’s cute” reaction that I figured any guy would have when they looked at her. Then, as I got to know her—because she and Austin were peas in a pod and you couldn’t know one without the other—well, I’d just say she’d carved out a part of my heart and claimed absolute ownership of it.
“I thought about getting a dog, but it doesn’t seem fair when I’m gone all day. I don’t think Mr. Ballentine would be on board with me bringing an animal into the office.”
“Aw.” Megan looked around. “You could get a cat instead. I could get a cat for the shop.”
I wrinkled my nose. “That doesn’t seem like a way to attract patrons. Allergies are a thing.”
“Yeah, I guess. There are all these books about funky bookstores that have shop cats named Lizzie and Darcy or Jane and Rochester.” She shrugged. “It’s adorable.”
“Sure. In a book. Do you want to go buy books covered in cat fur?”
