CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Drew
The rain persisted all week. I woke up on Friday feeling really sad. The gray sky outside the window didn't help to lift my mood, and I went into the shower feeling restless and determined to fix this.
I need to go to Asheville.
There wasn't much I could do out here in San Diego, not when Allie patently refused to talk to me. I'd messaged every day this week. She must really be mad at me.
When I got out of the shower and sat down at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of coffee, I found myself scrolling to the airline's site on my phone. I would see if there were flights still available this evening.
“Ah.”
I found a flight – it was ridiculously pricey, since I was literally booking on the same day – but I had to do it.
As that meant I'd land in Asheville in the middle of the night, I had to organize a taxi and a hotel too, but it was worth it. I was going to visit her.
I drove to work feeling resolute. At least I was finally taking steps to change things. I wasn't going to take this lying down. I should have been honest the moment I got that call. Maybe even the moment I met Allie. Actually, make that six years previously.
I had been a jerk. I had been scared to be anything else. But now I was going to change that.
“Morning, Mr. Liston,” my secretary called as I walked to my office.
“Morning, Melody. How's my day today?”
“Not busy, Mr. Liston...at least, not by your usual standard.” She laughed.
I raised my eyebrow. “Good. Well, what's on the menu?”
She showed me the list of meetings and I felt myself wishing I was back in bed. But today I had something exciting planned.
In a few hours I would be sorting this all out.
“Right,” I said to myself. “Let's sign these papers.”
As I went through the list of things needing my signature – surprisingly many of them – I wondered if I was right to feel so good about this.
Why would Allie want me back? Maybe this time I'd really messed up. She was really mad, clearly.
But why? I could only assume that she'd made some kind of deductions about that phone-call. But what could I do? Say, “and by the way, I'm not dating someone”?
“Come on, Drew. That sounds about as convincing as Uncle's charity gala speeches.”
The thought made me chuckle. Uncle wasn't the kind of person who gave anything away lightly, not even checks to the Child Welfare guys. As if conjured by my imagination, my phone rang. It was Uncle.
“Hello?” I tensed even as I cleared my throat to talk to him. He always made me feel inadequate.
“Hello, Drew. Just calling to ask two questions. First – I wanted to discuss this deal with Smithson and sons...making a merger with them now seems a bad idea. I'll chat with you about that over dinner, maybe. Second, I wanted...”
“I'm not going to be here for dinner,” I said quickly. I could almost feel his expression change, those steely eyes widen and then narrow.
“Oh? Where are you going to be, then?”
“In Asheville,” I said bluntly. “I have unfinished business.”
“Oh.” He went quiet. “I won't ask what sort of business. I think I'll sleep better if I don't. Now, we'll have to schedule a meeting for lunchtime today then. Don't tell me you can't do that – this is urgent.”
“Okay,” I said mildly. “We'll meet this afternoon. The Drover?”
“Yes, please.”
I waited. “You had a second point?”
“Yes. I wanted to ask about Ms. Brunson. I presume you have been visiting her this week?” His voice was clipped. I think I'd made him mad.
I chuckled. “She threw me out on Wednesday.”
“What?” Uncle sounded horrified. I tried hard to suppress my laughter but it was impossible.
“She got mad – said it's damned annoying to have people hovering about like she's dying. She was teasing me, I think. But she did insist I wait until she's out.” I said.
“What the...” my uncle sounded flustered. “Well! What did you do?”
“I agreed,” I said mildly. “It's her choice, Uncle. After all, she's the sick one. I think she gets to call the shots, don't you?”
Uncle didn't say anything to that. He made a sort of “humph,” his way of dismissing a subject he found awkward. “Well, I'll see you in, what? Three hours?”
“Yes, Uncle. See you at the restaurant at one.”
After that, I carried on working. I could only imagine what his face would look like on the other side of the phone. That was for him to deal with. Carrie and I had enough of that kind of meddling. We were free to live our own lives now. And I for one was going to start doing that.
By the time four o' clock rolled round I'd managed to finish all the things I needed to do that day. I checked my watch, stood up and headed to the front desk.
“Melody?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Forward any calls that seem important, please? I need to go home urgently.”
She raised a brow, but otherwise her oval face was completely calm. “Sure, Mr. Liston. I'll do that.”
“Thanks.”
“I hope it's nothing bad?” she asked, big blue eyes concerned as I walked to the door.
I turned and smiled at her. “I don't think it is,” I said reassuringly.
I was trying to reassure myself. Inside I was terrified.
I had never seen Allie actually furious before. It was a surprising thought. We'd known each other for a while – fine, we'd only actually dated for just over a year – but in all that time I hadn't known her mad.
I've seen her really annoyed just recently. But this is different.
I packed at home the moment I walked in through the door. The traffic had held me up and it was already five past five. I got out my suitcase and threw things into it fairly randomly – a jacket, suit pants, fresh shirts, a tie. Make that two shirts, you're there Sunday too. I threw in four pairs of socks and then hesitated as I lifted a box of chocolates off the top shelf in my cupboard. Should I take those?
Allie would probably be mad at me for trying to placate her.
In any case, I packed them too. It couldn't hurt.
I grabbed some coffee and headed to my car. My flight was at eight, which meant I had one and a half hours to get to the airport. In this traffic, it would probably take that long.
I slid in behind the wheel and pulled away.
When I was sitting in the airplane, the cabin crew checking we all had our seats up, I felt my nerves catching up with me again. What was I going to do when I got there? How was I going to let Allie know I was really sorry? Actually sorry, not just superficially sorry?
“I wish there was some kind of universal guide,” I muttered. Unfortunately, there wasn't. Or was there? My heart knew.
And in my heart, I started to think of a plan.
It was a desperate, crazy kind of plan. But it was a plan that might just work. Because I knew Allie and my heart knew what would reach her, even if my mind didn't. I reached into my pocket and scrolled through my contacts list.
***
Saturday morning was a special kind of madness. Refreshing. At least while I was stirring batter, cooking, taking orders and wrestling the Evil Coffee Machine I couldn't think about Drew.
You wouldn't have thought a week could take you from miserable to totally over it?
I sighed. I knew I wasn't really “over it”. But I was having longer times of not thinking about it, which was less painful and, therefore, progressing.
“Ms. Hendricks?”
“Yeah?” I called. I had my sleeves rolled up and I was kneading a mass of dough for the croissants.
“Two Macchiatos. Could you take over, please?”
“Sure,” I called, washing flour off my fingers and heading through to the front. As I finally got the little nozzle into place and pressed the button for the coffees, Marcelle called out.
“Ms. Hendricks?”
“Yes? Here we go, Kelsey...and did you say they needed some buns?”
“Yes.”
“Ms. Hendricks?”
“Oh. Yes. What is it, Marcelle?” I called, dragging a weary hand down my face.
“Phone call. Says they want a big order for tomorrow.”
“What sort of big order?” I called, heading into the back. “Tell them we can do it...we've only got that order for a dozen scones for Sunday. We can do it.”
As I kneaded the dough and set it aside to rise, I heard her finalizing the order.
“So, that's fifty cupcakes and fifty scones? To be delivered at Treeview Lodge? Sure. At four-thirty. Cash on delivery. Thanks very much. Bye.”
I wiped my hands on my apron and turned to her. “I'll do the driving...Sunday's Trent's day off. But that sounds a big order,” I commented mildly. It was what the business needed. We needed to let people know who we were, and the best way to do it was via catering for events.
“It is...oh!” Marcelle covered her mouth with her hand. “I'm really sorry, Ms. Hendricks,” she said. Her peaceful face looked embarrassed.
“Why?” I frowned.
“I forgot. You don't want to have to come in tomorrow...it's your birthday!”
“Oh. Yeah.” I frowned. I'd forgotten too. She was quite right, though. March 10 was my birthday. “You remembered before I did.”
She giggled. “Really?”
“Yeah!” I gave her a broad grin. “That's something I really like about you, Marcelle. You pay attention to the little things.”
She grinned. “I wouldn't have called your thirty-something birthday a little thing.”
“Aw,” I said, feeling touched. “That's sweet of you.”
“We'll have a party at work!” Marcelle declared. “Kelsey?”
“Yeah?” Kelsey asked enthusiastically.
“It's a special day tomorrow.”
“Oh?”
“Ms. Hendricks is having a birthday.”
“Oh! Congrats,” she beamed at me.
I smiled. “Thanks. One disadvantage of getting older is that birthdays make you feel old.” I chuckled weakly.
Marcelle rolled her eyes at me. “Ms. Hendricks, you're not that much older than I am.”
“I guess,” I said. That morning with the stress from work and stress about Drew lurking in the background I felt about a hundred, or how I would imagine a hundred to feel. I was sad and tired and lonely and mad and I wished I could just take a holiday and cry.
I finished the dough for the croissants and then started refilling the bowl to mix another batch. I had to make enough dough for fifty of the things tomorrow.
“Marcelle?”
“Yes?”
“Could you get the buns out and start the next batch of scones for the afternoon? I'm going to get going with our order for tomorrow.”
And hopefully, sometime between now and then I'll cheer up a bit.
Or I'm in for a miserable birthday.