Already Home. Susan Mallery
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As if he were the kind of guy who laughed a lot.
“I’m Cliff,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Violet.”
“Nice to meet you, Violet.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” She paused, not sure what to say next.
Cliff continued to smile at her, as if she were the brightest part of his day. “I work in finance, which sounds more impressive than it is. I’ve been in town about five months and the only people I know are the ones on my floor at work. I’m putting in eighty hours a week because I don’t know what else to do with my time. Have dinner with me?”
Nice, she thought. The guy was nice. And, of course, she wasn’t the least bit interested.
“Thanks, but no.”
He gazed into her eyes. “I know meeting a guy in a grocery store isn’t much better than meeting a guy in a bar. What do you really know about me, right? Giving me your number wouldn’t be safe. So let me give you my card.”
He withdrew a card from his suit jacket pocket. “My work number is there, along with my cell. How about next Tuesday?”
“I don’t get to Austin much. I live in Georgetown,” she said without thinking, not sure what to do about the invitation.
“That works for me. How about the Wildfire Restaurant? It’s next to the Palace Theater. Tell you what. I’ll be there at seven. I hope you’ll join me.”
He held out the card until she took it.
“I’m a good guy,” he told her. “Ask anyone on my floor.”
She stared at the card. The company name was one she recognized and the location was a high-rise in Austin. Apparently Cliff really did have a job, and it was a good one.
She looked up only to see he’d turned away and was already at the end of the aisle. He rounded the corner without looking back.
He probably was a good guy, she thought as she tucked the card into the back pocket of her jeans. No man had ever gone out of his way to make her feel safe before. Women like Jenna were probably well-treated all the time. They didn’t know the world could be different. But Violet did. She knew how ugly it could be.
She was tired of losers who made her heart beat faster. Of jerks who hurt her, either physically or emotionally. Jenna made normal seem pretty damned wonderful. Maybe it was time for Violet to experience normal for herself.
Five
The last time Jenna had had this many butterflies in her stomach, she’d been getting married. Hopefully the reopening of her store would prove to have a happier ending. She waited anxiously by the oven as cookies baked. As per their plan, food would be available the second the doors unlocked.
While she waited for the three-hundred-and-fifty degrees to work their magic, she glanced around the store. She and Violet had rearranged a few shelves and reworked most of the displays. Gone was the rigid order she had so loved, and in its place was a welcoming riot of color and equipment. Dish towels spilled out of mixer bowls, mugs nestled next to coffee-makers. A gourmet coffee display was nearby.
The website was up and working, ads were in all the local papers, coupon inserts in two, and somehow Violet had managed to get them interviewed for a local blog.
She checked the cookies, then eyed the class schedule on the wall. The big dry-erase board was filled with offerings from organic food for babies and toddlers during the late-morning to a singles cooking class on Friday night. Her perfect kitchen would be invaded by people who had no idea what they were doing, and she was actually sort of okay with that.
Even more surprising, she was trying something new. The organic food for babies and toddlers was completely out of her comfort zone. She’d nearly vomited when she’d agreed to the class, but she was going to do it. She figured an eighteen-month-old wouldn’t be as critical as Aaron.
Giving up control was a good thing, she reminded herself. At least it would be when she got used to it and stopped hyperventilating at the thought. Trying to keep control of everything had become a habit in recent years. Maybe it had been a way not to notice how out of control her marriage had become.
She returned to the oven and pulled open the door. The timer dinged just as she drew out the tray and set it on the waiting cooling rack.
Across the room, Violet groaned. “What are those? They smell amazing.”
“A brownie-cookie with a melted chocolate center.”
“I’m going to gain weight working here, aren’t I?”
“If I’m doing my job right.”
Violet grinned. “Tell me when they’re cooled. I want to taste one and make sure they’re okay. For marketing purposes.”
Jenna laughed. “Thanks. We wouldn’t want to risk serving our customers anything that wasn’t good.”
“Exactly.”
Jenna slipped the second batch into the oven and shut the door. Precisely two minutes after the cookies had come out of the oven, Jenna used a spatula to transfer them from the cookie sheet to a second cooling rack. She glanced at the clock. They were less than five minutes to the grand reopening.
What if nobody came? What if all the changes didn’t make a difference? What if she failed?
The swirling thoughts made her want to pound her head against the wall. Instead she forced herself to breathe slowly. Everything was going to be fine, she reminded herself. Her new plan was in place and it was based on making customers happy, rather than being everything she wanted the store to be. Even as she hovered, twenty dozen sugar cookies waited to be decorated for today’s class on decorating with spring flowers.
The table by the register held fifty brightly colored lunch-size paper bags Violet had bought at the dollar store. Inside some were the nonperishable ingredients for the sugar cookies. The others held the same for the brownie-cookies. Recipe cards were attached. Everything was premeasured in sealed plastic bags. All that was required were eggs and butter.
Next to the bags, stacks of mixing bowls, cookie sheets and cooling racks partially blocked printed schedules of the cooking classes for the next two weeks. Later in the week there would be a ribbon-cutting ceremony with members of the Georgetown Chamber of Commerce stopping by.
They’d done what they could do, she reminded herself. What happened now was up to the good people of Georgetown.
“It’s time,” Violet said as she walked toward the door. “Oh.”
“What?”
“There are people waiting outside. I hadn’t noticed.”
People waiting, as in customers? Jenna walked toward the front. Sure enough, there were five or six women standing on the sidewalk. As soon as Violet unlocked the glass front doors, they walked in.
Several of them held flyers or coupons in their hands. They looked around eagerly. A couple inhaled, then groaned.
“What are you baking?” one older woman asked. “It smells wonderful.”
Jenna smiled. “A brownie-cookie. I just pulled some out of the oven. Have a taste.”
She handed out the samples.
“Do you have the recipe?” another woman asked. “I came in for the sugar cookie class, but these are delicious.”
“We have recipe cards,” Jenna said, pointing to the front of the store even as she wondered if she recognized the woman. She might have been a retired teacher from her elementary school.
“We also have the ingredients ready if you want to buy those and make them at home yourself,” Jenna added. “You’ll need eggs and butter, but we’ve taken care of everything else.”