Marry Me, Jackson (Best Friends To Forever Book 1) Page 19

  When he asked for her address she chuckled. “I live right over the big event,”' she said.

  “That sounds convenient,” he said, with surprise in his voice.

  “I guess. The space was empty when I moved in. Empty and quiet. I might be looking for a new living arrangement in the near future.” Her voice fell. The thought of moving made her miserable. But it might be worse to stay and work around the drama queen.

  “That shouldn’t be too hard.”

  Not hard but inconvenient. She had to get away from Victoria and Jackson. If she was going to start over, she needed a clean break. But she wasn’t ready to make another move. Not yet.

  Chapter 15

  Emily tried not to spy on Victoria the day before her opening. The rumbles and bumps had quieted down. Occasionally, she’d peek through the kitchen blinds. Sometimes Jackson’s truck was parked out back. Not that she noticed.

  Miss Charlotte’s comment about the baking on the first floor got Emily thinking. More than once she’d stepped into her hallway to sniff. Nothing. She would have thought those huge refrigerators that had been installed would be chock full of goodies for the party. On a particularly warm day when spring came drifting through her open windows, she felt restless. The day called for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

  The baking kept her occupied. Maybe she’d put some aside for Trevor. But Jackson’s comment about cookies signaling the end of her romances made her drop them off at her parents, some for them and the rest for Miss Charlotte. Emily felt at loose ends.

  As she sampled her cookies during her break, she figured that Victoria would offer far fancier cookies than these at her opening. Maybe even petit fours along with her scones.

  The Sweetwater Gazette had run a quarter page ad for the open house. The Penny Saver had been carrying an open invitation for Victoria's Pantry for a while now. Whether Emily stopped at Winn Dixie for orange juice or walked down to the marina with Josie and Bryn, a buzz was in the air. Sweetwater Creek didn’t have open houses often. This was a big event.

  Or maybe it was just in her own mind. Emily was eager to have those vans and trucks gone from the back. But then she’d only have Victoria’s red convertible parked back there. Not Jackson’s truck.

  She reached for another cookie.

  Trevor had asked her what he should wear for the “occasion,” as he said jokingly. Her father was more than curious when she texted him the question. Her phone rang promptly. “And could I inquire why my little girl is asking what a gentleman should wear to an open house?” She could hear the smile in Daddy’s voice.

  “I'm just curious. That's all.”

  Daddy chuckled. “Since it's spring I would think a sport coat would be appropriate. But you might just go downstairs and see what Victoria thinks of it. What are her expectations?”

  Emily hissed in a breath. “Daddy, you have just stepped over the line.”

  “All I’m saying is that this is a Pomeroy event. Maybe everyone else will be wearing tuxedos.”

  “Oh, I doubt that.” Jackson in a tuxedo? The idea took her breath away. “Well, Daddy, I have a blog post that's due.” He was still laughing when she ended the call.

  A sport coat would probably be fine, she wrote to Trevor.

  No trouble there. Just didn’t want to embarrass you.

  No way would he do that. Well, unless he started talking about food poisoning. Was she silly to have so much hope riding on a man she’d just met? Guilt dried the cookie in her mouth. Had she invited him so she could get to know him? Or because she wanted to show him off?

  She was definitely rushing things. Josie and Bryn had been speechless when she told them that Trevor was going to be her escort that night. Then they both bombarded her with questions.

  “Oh my,” Bryn had said. “Should we bring dates?”

  “Absolutely not.” Josie snorted. “Emily's only doing that to make a point, right?”

  Well, she certainly wasn’t going to admit that. “The open house seemed like a good idea. Trevor lives in Asheboro and I thought the open house would introduce him to our town.”

  “Trevor from Asheboro?” Bryn asked. “I used to live there, you know.”

  “Right. Maybe you’ll know him. This Trevor was married to a woman named Delia.”

  Bryn shook her head. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

  They were sitting on one of the broad swings down at the marina. The sun was heating up and the bay glittered. The scene felt so peaceful. If only Emily could silence this edgy feeling that something was not right about the upcoming event. “You know, I haven't smelled anything going on downstairs.”

  “What?” Bryn’s face emptied with disbelief. “No cookies baking?”

  “Nope. Amazing, right?”

  “No scones crying for honey butter?”

  Josie waved a hand. “Skip the sweet stuff. What about bacon? What about miniature quiches and grilled paninis? Weren’t those in the ad?”

  Emily didn't want to start rumors. So she said nothing.

  Now she turned her mind to work. Jackson drove up the alley and parked. The rumble of his engine was starting to sound familiar. She heard Victoria’s back door open and close.

  “I’ll be right back,” she told Sasha. Tiptoeing into the hallway, she flattened one ear against the wall. This eavesdropping was becoming way too familiar and easier with habit.

  The raised voices almost made her topple from the stairs. “My job was to give you a storefront you could be proud of,” Jackson was saying.

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” Victoria’s voice cut through the wall.

  “What else do you need?”

  The voices dropped to murmuring. Her ear ached from smashing it against the hard surface. Dashing back into her apartment, she grabbed window spray and paper towels. That front storm door was a mess. Scooting back down the steps, she got busy spritzing and wiping.

  Victoria’s door remained closed. Jackson’s truck was still here. Spraying the window, she yanked off two squares of paper towel and rubbed the glass in a slow circular motion. After just a few swipes, she started to sneeze. Once, twice, three times. The trees were blooming and the air was thick with pollen.

  The back door of the pantry sprang open and Jackson leaned out. When the breeze lifted his hair in a roguish way, he looked way too handsome. “Emily. What are you doing there?”

  “Getting rid of this pollen.” She gave another spritz, hoping she looked convincing. “Terrible this spring, isn’t it?”

  Squinting up at the budding trees, Jackson nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.” Then he glanced behind him, the smile fading. The man look worried. And he wasn't a guy who worried a lot. At least, not that she recalled.

  Victoria had come to the door. Her nose was red and her eye makeup had smudged. Any fool could see she wasn’t in tiptop shape. When her hand went to Jackson’s shoulder, Emily wanted to slap it away.

  Instead she kept spritzing, the air clouding with her efforts.

  After a dainty cough or two, Victoria said, “So you'll take care of that, Jackson?” Her voice was filled with tears.

  Now, Victoria was not her favorite person, not by a long shot. But Emily hated to see a girl cry for any reason. And apparently so did Jackson. He blew out a breath. “Yes. All right. I’ll handle it. You’ll have to take care of your end too.”

  “I’ll...I’ll try.” Victoria’s full lips trembled.

  Dying to know what was going on, Emily ducked her head. Her roll of paper towels was almost gone. And with the breeze and everything, it was hard keeping the used ones from taking flight. She kept them crushed beneath her feet, but a few escaped. No way was she going upstairs.

  What did Jackson mean by “her end”?

  Victoria’s hand dropped back where it belonged. Lips moving with mumbled words, Jackson climbed into the truck. Unfortunately, Emily didn’t know how to read lips.

  The truck roared to life. Victoria disappeared back inside. His window lowering, Jackson stuck his
head out. “I think that window’s plenty clean, Emily.” He threw her a saucy grin that made her stomach tumble.

  Well, he had a point. Jackson roared away, the truck bouncing a bit on the uneven cobblestones. The back alley was empty and wonderfully still, except for the cardinals chirping in one of the trees. Emily crept closer to the window that opened onto the kitchen of Victoria’s space.

  A furtive glance in every direction told her the coast was clear. No one was around. With her blue bottle in one hand and what was left of the shredded paper towels in the other, Emily stared through the window. Of course they were clouded by pollen. Spritzing and swiping, she cleared a circle.

  Victoria’s kitchen was a thing of beauty. The countertops were stainless steel. A butcher block table stood in the center of the room, its surface suspiciously clean. In the corner of the counter sat a huge mixer, so shiny she wondered if it had ever been used. Emily wanted to grab a sack of flour, some butter and sugar and start right in.

  What was cooking in Victoria’s Pantry? Apparently nothing.

  Some movement in the doorway sent Emily scurrying. Questions buzzed in her mind as she opened her own door. What was going on down there?

  That night she hardly slept, listening for sounds of activity downstairs. Nothing. And the opening was tomorrow. Sasha left for the living room sofa where Emily found her curled up the following morning. No walking today. As the sun rose over the trees, trucks and vans began arriving. A blanket wrapped around her, Emily watched trays of pastries and breads being carted inside. Servati’s Bakery, Greta’s Cupcakes, Daisy Cakes and The Divine Delicatessen arrived first, jostling for room in the back. The chaos continued all morning.

  Finally, the smell of bread drifted up through the vents, along with the distinct scent of sugar. Her mouth watered. She could hardly write her next blog post. Healthy dieting was on her schedule for this week. But since she didn’t plan on doing it herself, how could she write about it?

  Watching the trucks cluster in the back, she imagined the same thing happening out front in the evening. So she texted Trevor, suggesting he park on the side streets if there were no spaces available on the square.

  Throughout the day she found excuses to trek outside. She needed to check the weather. Or she’d forgotten something in her car. She’d loop around the building, eager for one more glance at Victoria’s display. A pretty little green bench now sat in front of the large front window. Camera in hand, Emily pretended to take pictures of the square. Lush azaleas were in full bloom. Whirling around she snapped a few pictures of the elegant sign and the shiny purple door.

  The window was now filled with platters of real food––scones, cookies and kolaches. Kolaches. Would they be the same delicacy that Milda sold over in Waynesville? That’s when she began to wonder. Deep in thought, she lolly-gagged back around the building.

  Half an hour later a white van arrived from the Scorsese Brothers bakery over in Sumter. Of course she’d heard of them and opened the sliding glass door in her kitchen. A muscular older man rolled out trays of something that smelled divine. The scent wafted up on the spring air. Victoria had gathered the best bakeries and delicatessens in the area. Her wonder grew along with a little dose of envy.

  Victoria Pomeroy was one sharp cookie. Her business would no doubt be a major success. Looked like the food for the party was all being trucked in. The Pomeroys had pulled out the big guns. Although Emily tried to concentrate that day, she failed miserably.

  The weather was so mild that she decided to wear a cute little sheath that she’d picked up at Coralee's. The hot pink color seemed to fit the season and would look great against Victoria’s green and purple decor. Thank goodness the people who rented out their cottages along the shore were beginning to show up before Easter. And they'd been cleaning out their closets. The labels found in Coralee’s were brands Emily could never afford.

  By the time Trevor rang the bell that evening, she’d been dressed for an hour and could hardly wait to get down there.

  “Don't you look nice?” her date for the evening said when he reached the top of the steps.

  She flushed with appreciation, dropping her eyes to the pink patent flats she’d also scored. “Thank you. You look pretty great yourself.”

  Yes, he’d do nicely. Trevor looked freshly showered and shaved, his damp hair curling at the collar of a sage green shirt under a trim navy jacket. Those dark eyes twinkled with fun. She imagined that his daughters had a good time with their dad. He seemed like that kind of man. Well, when he wasn’t policing the area for undercooked meat.

  Of course Sasha wandered out to give Trevor an inquisitive sniff. “I didn't know you had a cat.”

  Emily squatted to give Sasha a scratch behind the ears. “Didn’t I have that in my profile?”

  Instead of reaching to pet Sasha, Trevor backed away. “No.”

  “What? So you don't like cats?”

  His hands were jammed in his pockets. “Sorry but I'm allergic to cats.”

  “Oh, my goodness.” Jumping up, she went to the sink to wash her hands. Her jittery excitement faded. If Trevor was allergic to cats, that was a problem. She’d think about that later. Wiping her hands on a towel, she said, “Guess it’s time to get downstairs.”

  “Right. Plenty of cars out there.” Trevor peeked through the front window. “The whole town must be here.”

  “Probably.” Did she really want to face the entire population celebrating Victoria’s success? No. But she’d go of course. And she’d smile.

  Joining Trevor on the landing, she locked the door and led him downstairs. Cars had taken all the private parking spaces in back. Now, that was irritating.

  Trevor circled a trim gray sports car. The kind of car Emily never rode in, that’s for sure. The kind of car she’d spotted in Jackson’s garage.

  “Wow, a Porsche.” His eyes lit up. “Look at that roofline. Those wheels.”

  While she eyed the smart little car, her misgivings grew. “Victoria’s family knows people who drive Porsches.”

  Trevor sure appreciated it. “Which way?”

  She took a right. “Follow me.” Of course they weren’t going in the back door. Tonight was special. She led him down the cobblestone alley and around the building. The spring evening air was still warm with southern humidity. Her long curls would soon be a mess. Self-conscious, she fingered one. Did it matter? When they reached Main Street, cars were parked everywhere. “Oh my.”

  Each diagonal parking place was filled. “Looks like I got one of the last parking spaces,” Trevor said. “This new pantry must be a big deal.”

  Her stomach plummeted. “I guess so. The free food probably helped.” And the family name, but she wouldn’t go there.

  Next to the green bench, a clown stood making up balloon animals for the children clustered around him. “My girls would love this,” Trevor murmured. The children clamored for a giraffe or a dog. The clown’s fingers flew and the colorful creations brought smiles from the kids. Emily had to admire Victoria for even thinking of this special touch.

  Circling the group, Josie and Bryn strolled down the sidewalk. Emily had mentioned what time Trevor was picking her up. Quickly she made introductions and didn't miss the appreciative glances Josie and Bryn gave Trevor.

  Bryn’s head tilted to the side. “Trevor. Trevor Daniels from Asheboro? Do you remember me?”

  His eyes lit up and he smiled. “Bryn. Really? Here in Sweetwater Creek?”

  “Yep, I was in eighth grade when we left Asheboro to move here for my dad’s job.”

  “Trevor’s a marine biologist,” Emily threw in, as if she hadn’t already mentioned it to her friends.

  “No kidding?” Bryn sent Emily a sly smile as she whisked past Trevor. “Not surprised at all. I almost couldn’t finish my science project without you.”

  When he went to open the door for them, Josie gave Emily a thumbs up.

  The place was packed. Laughter and excitement danced in the air. Two girls
in green aprons that said Victoria’s Pantry circled the room with platters. One held fragrant slices of french bread with pesto and red peppers. The other dispensed filo pockets filled with brie, bacon bits and figs. Of course the four of them accepted a napkin and samples. As the brie melted on Emily’s tongue, she marveled at how Victoria had pulled this off.

  With Jackson’s help, of course.

  She almost wished it didn’t taste so good. Waiters in black slacks and tees negotiated their way through the crowd with trays of champagne. “Emily?” Trevor turned to her.

  “Yes, please.”

  He swept two flutes from the tray and handed her one.

  Bubbles rose in the pale liquid while her spirits sank.

  This was everything she’d feared it would be.

  “Emily. How nice to see you,” Victoria said, as they approached. Her arms opened as if they were great friends. Bryn raised her eyebrows while Victoria gave Emily an air kiss. “

  “Congratulations. Everything looks wonderful,” Emily murmured, shocked by this unexpected show of affection. “You’ve done so much work.”

  She waited. Certainly, Victoria would admit that she hadn't cooked up all these little dainties. But that wasn't happening.

  Her hands folded demurely in front of her immaculate blue linen dress, Victoria smiled but her lips look strained. “Thank you, it’s been quite an effort.”

  “And well worth it,” Trevor said. His eyes swept the room with appreciation. “I’ll definitely be stopping by if I ever have work over this way.”

  “I don't think I've met your friend,” Victoria said with an expectant smile.

  “Oh, sorry.” Somehow Emily found her voice. “This is Trevor Daniels.”

  “So glad you could come, Trevor.” Victoria fluttered her eyelashes. “Do you live in these parts?”

  Emily was tempted to say that he’d flown in from New York for the affair. But what would Trevor think? Must be the bubbly doing its magic.

  Where was Jackson? While Victoria impressed Trevor, Emily looked across the room. Her father was chatting it up with Jackson. They’d always gotten along and that hadn’t changed.