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She couldn’t tell if the frown was new, or if his wrinkles were permanently knit that way, but regardless, Grouchy Man stomped his cane toward a nearby table and planted himself in a chair, arms crossed.
Lori turned back toward the machine and drew a fortifying breath. She was so having a chocolate crocodile after this.
Andy tried the handle on the door of the Chocolate Gator. Locked. The hours posted informed him the shop closed at six, and it was fifteen past. He cupped his hands around his eyes and peered through the glass into the dim boutique. He could barely make out Lori’s sprawled form at a table, one arm hanging limply over the back of her seat. Her legs were crossed, and she rubbed one bare foot with her free hand. Red high-heel shoes lay on the floor by her chair.
He winced. High heels on the first day at a new job? Big mistake—but knowing Lori and her accessory fetish, she’d be back in a different pair of equally ridiculous shoes tomorrow, and probably sporting a matching purse. He knocked on the glass.
Lori waved and gestured at her feet. As in, she wasn’t about to get up. Part of him couldn’t blame her; the other part wanted to point to her shoes and yell duh. He knocked louder.
“Coming!” an Italian accent bellowed through the glass. Andy jumped. The door was flung open to reveal a tall, dark-haired guy about his own age, maybe late twenties. “Ciao.”
“Uh, ciao.” Andy stepped over the threshold, taking in the chocolate smeared on the sleeves of the man’s white shirt and the flour dusting the top of his shoes. “I’m Bella’s nephew, Andy Stewart.”
“Ah, si! You are the one who secured this angel a job.” He gestured toward Lori, who grinned and offered an innocent shrug. Angel? Apparently this guy had never experienced Lori’s temper—or witnessed her reaction to an empty doughnut box.
Andy cleared his throat. “I guess I am. And you are?” The chef, obviously. But Andy wanted a name—and he really wanted the odd twisting sensation in his stomach that began the moment this dude called Lori an angel to quit.
“Edmondo, or Monny. I cook with Bella.”
They shook hands, Andy’s grip a bit tighter than necessary. He forced his palm to relax. “Nice to meet you.” His aunt told him months ago about her new chef from overseas, but failed to mention he was this young—and this Italian. Hopefully Lori wasn’t one of those crazy girls who got all excited hearing a foreign accent….
“Monny, say that thing you said earlier.” Lori flipped her long hair over her shoulder, the light returning to her tired eyes. “About chocolate.”
“You mean cioccolata, mi cara.” He winked.
Andy’s eyes narrowed. Cara? From the look in Edmondo’s eyes, that term of endearment definitely didn’t mean coworker. He pulled out the chair across from Lori and sank into it, the screech against the tile floor interrupting the annoying flow of foreign words from Edmondo. Just his luck, the guy could probably make the phone book sound romantic.
“So, how was your first day?” He scooted a vase of flowers to the side so he could see Lori’s face. She was his friend before this guy’s, and he needed to tell her what happened at the church. Monny could wait.
“Thanks for the job, Bella. You can’t train me in the shop? No problem, I’m a quick learner. I can figure it out, Bella. Of course I can make coffee, Bella,” Lori mocked, her hands covering her face.
“That good, huh?”
“Yes.” She peeked through her fingers at Andy and smiled. “But I loved every minute of it.”
He laughed and tugged her hands down to the table. “You’ve got flour in your hair.”
“Thanks for that, Monny.” She pulled free and patted at her head.
Monny flipped the lock on the front door and grinned. “Just be glad it wasn’t the raspberry crème.” He paused at their table. “I’ll leave through the back so you won’t have to lock the front door again. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye.” Lori wiggled her fingers in a wave. “Maybe tomorrow will be easier since I’ll have help at the front.”
“You did a wonderful job.”
“Only because of your help.” She smiled.
Andy’s stomach rolled. Was Lori flirting back with this guy? The fake charm practically oozed from Monny’s tanned skin. Lori couldn’t be actually falling for it…right? He wadded a stray napkin into a ball and clenched it in his fist as Monny disappeared through the kitchen doors.
Lori met Andy’s gaze with a slight frown, gesturing at his white-knuckled grip. “Are you okay?”
He dropped the napkin and opened his mouth, and then hesitated before answering. If okay included his job being all but threatened, and this sudden burst of jealousy over one of his best friends, then sure. He shook his head to clear the random thoughts. Pastor Mike’s talk on marriage must have put crazy thoughts in his mind.
“Earth to Andy.” Lori waved a hand in front of his face. “I thought I was the one who was worn out. Don’t make me put you in the ring with that cappuccino machine.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down. “You might not come out alive.”
He leaned back in his chair, away from her teasing and the suddenly overpowering scent of her fruity perfume. Combined with the aroma hovering in the shop, she smelled like a chocolate-covered strawberry. What was wrong with him? This was Lori, the girl who passed hastily scribbled notes to him during church with smiley faces asking where they were going for lunch. The girl who ganged up with his youth group to spray him with Silly String one summer morning on his way into the office. The girl who knew most of his secrets, brought him back to reality when he got prideful and encouraged him when he felt like a failure.
The girl who’d been so close to his side for so many years that he’d failed to see what was directly in front of him.
Andy stared at Lori as if for the first time. Long brown hair swept into a partial ponytail. Eyes twinkling with laughter despite the fatigue lining the edges. A few freckles spattered across her nose that she never tried to cover with makeup. Lori. His best friend…and the woman who just might make the senior church staff—and him—very, very happy.
His lips spread in a slow smile. “Actually, yes. I think I am all right now.”
Chapter Three
Lori drew a deep breath of chocolate-scented air and closed her eyes. Tuesday. A new day, a fresh start, a second chance to succeed.
Or fail miserably.
Her eyes popped open. She had to think positively—surely her second day would be better than the first. The part-time worker, Summer Pierce, would be there after noon to help run the register and bag orders. Besides, Lori now knew what Mr. Grouchy’s “usual” was, and she’d won more rounds than she’d lost with the coffeemaker. It couldn’t get any harder than that, right?
The sound of Monny’s melodic humming from the kitchen lightened her mood, and Lori swayed in rhythm as she fanned Bella’s signature pink and black napkins on the counter. She’d taken interior-design classes in college, and she really appreciated Bella’s decorating skills. Everything in the shop blended, but didn’t match. That was important in drawing the eye and creating an environment.
Lori’s eyes narrowed as she took in the room. Had Bella ever considered selling other coordinating products in her store? The setup was perfect for merchandise. Pink and black mugs, for example, or mini stuffed animals carrying bags of chocolate. Even logo purses would probably sell, if done in the shop’s signature colors.
She reached for a pad of paper under the register and a pencil. Maybe she could jot down a few ideas to mention once Bella came back. Or better yet, create a pro/con list to show Bella how well her ideas would work.
“Lori, mi cara!”
Lori jerked at her name, still not used to it being followed by Monny’s ever-present “my dear” tag. “Coming!” She dropped the pad and pencil and pushed through the swinging kitchen door. Much as she hated to admit it, Monny’s attention the last two days had soothed the raw spot left from Jason’s betrayal, and the ache from Andy’s lack of interest. If a cute Italian chef was possibly attracted to her, who cared what her ex or her best friend thought, right?
She hurried into the kitchen. Monny stood over a giant pot of churning ingredients. “I’m making fudge. Will you stir this while I check on the sponge cake? Prego?”
“Sure.” She took the long wooden spoon and ran it through the white mixture. “What’s in here?”
Monny donned an oven mitt. “Sugar, milk, vanilla…and a secret ingredient or two.” He yanked open the oven door with a smile. “Bella would not be happy if I told.”
Lori stirred the thickening concoction faster, trying to ignore the twinge of hurt in her stomach. She couldn’t exactly blame Bella for not trusting her with the shop’s secrets. It was enough she trusted Lori with the store itself. Besides, it wasn’t Bella who refused to tell her, just Monny doing what he thought was the proper thing. Right?
Her thoughts trailed off. The oven door shut, and Monny called instructions over the sound of the kitchen’s whirring exhaust fan. “And add the chocolate, in the bowl to your left.”
Lori jerked back to attention. She grabbed the mixing bowl, full of chopped chocolate pieces, and added it to the boiling mixture in the pot. She stirred harder, hoping Monny hadn’t noticed her zoning out. Not that she was trying to impress him—was she? She chewed her bottom lip, the spoon slowing in her hand. She hadn’t been on a date in so long she’d forgotten the rules of flirting. It was all Andy’s fault. If he’d just paid attention to her in the way she wanted him to, instead of being such an oblivious guy, maybe they could have—
“Watch out!”
Monny’s warning cry came too late. Thick chocolate bubbles popped. Lori shrieked. Chocolate sprayed, barely missing her face. She stepped back, wielding the wooden spoon. The thick mixture dripped off the edge of the spoon and onto her clothing. She shrieked again as the warmth seeped through her thin sweater.
“Hot!” Lori fanned her shirt away from her body. The spoon clattered to the floor. Monny ran toward the pot as more bubbles popped. He ducked as one splattered the oven backsplash, and reached for the burner. Another bubble burst and sprayed his wrist. He mumbled in Italian and turned off the burner. His other hand with the oven mitt moved the steaming pot away from the heat.
Monny turned to Lori, chocolate coating his apron. He slowly took off the mitt, his chest expanding as he drew a deep breath. “Mi cara, I said to remove from heat before adding the chocolate.”
“Oops.” Lori felt a flush creep up her neck. Or maybe it was just the result of her hot-chocolate dance. “I must not have heard that part. I’m sorry.”
“No problem. It will be—what do you say?—Saveable.”
“Salvageable?”
“Si.” Monny picked up the spoon from the floor and tossed it into the deep stainless-steel sink. The corners of his lips crinkled into a smile. “One disaster averted. Let’s see if we can make this fudge—”
“The cake!” Lori gestured wildly to the oven behind Monny, where smoke started to seep from the edges.
Monny grabbed the oven mitt again and wrenched open the door. Smoke billowed. He hefted the pan from inside, and it landed on the counter with a clatter. The chocolate batter had bubbled over onto the oven rack and burned. He stared listlessly at the hardened, crusty shell of what was supposed to be one of the Chocolate Gator’s best-selling products.
Lori waved one hand at the dissipating smoke and coughed. “Maybe we can still sell it and call it Cajun?”
Andy stared at the pen in his hand, willing it to obey. “Write. Something, anything—just write!” But no words formed on the card lying on his desk. Big surprise. Penning thoughts to your good friend turned best friend turned love interest wasn’t exactly easy.
He dropped the pen with a groan and flopped back in his office chair. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Last night, sitting in his recliner and flipping channels on the TV, the concept of sending secret gifts seemed ingenious. Surely it’d break the ice between him and Lori and warm her up to the idea of being more than friends. Hey, it worked for the guy in the Lifetime movie, didn’t it? But now it just seemed ridiculous. Lori said herself a year ago that she was through with the dating game after her ex-fiancé hurt her so badly.
The church staff was being unfair. Like finding true love was so easy. Like discovering the one person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with was this no-big-deal, everyday occurrence. Maybe he should forget the idea of finding a woman and remove himself from the game as Lori had done. Being a bachelor wasn’t that bad—although he could stand a home-cooked meal or two. And someone to remind him not to leave wet towels on the bedroom carpet so his room wouldn’t smell so moldy the next day. And it wouldn’t be awful to have someone to fight with over leaving the toothpaste cap off or whose turn it was to wash dishes or how much spice to put in the jambalaya.
But was it worth this kind of headache?
He grabbed a Hershey’s Kiss from the bowl on his counter—the bowl he kept for Lori when she was hanging out at the church—and let his eyes drift back to the greeting card in front of him. It was catchy and corny, just Lori’s thing. Two grinning cartoon characters with big moony eyes, one shooting pulsing heart beams toward the other with a bow and arrow. The text read Cupid Ain’t Got Nothing on Me. But what could he write underneath? And wouldn’t she recognize his handwriting?
The guy in the movie hadn’t had these kinds of problems.
Andy raked one hand through his hair. At least the bouquet of daisies and stargazer lilies would be a winner. Lori told him a year ago that lilies were her favorite flower because she figured they were God’s favorite, too. When he questioned her reasoning, she simply said a flower that smelled that strongly was obviously trying to waft its aroma toward Heaven.
He sniffed and fought a sneeze. She wasn’t kidding. He grabbed for a tissue seconds before the allergy attack began. Leave it to Lori to prefer the least subtle flower in all of nature. The sooner he figured out this card thing and delivered the gift, the sooner he could breathe again. Although Lori’s potential rejection would probably suck the life from their friendship. He wondered if he should even risk this.
The phone jangled on his desk, and he eagerly snatched it up. Any distraction was better than hovering over this greeting card, feeling like a poetic failure. “Youth pastor’s office, this is Andy.”
“Andy, my favorite nephew.” His aunt’s voice rang through the line with her usual flair of Southern charm.
He laughed at their long-standing argument. “Aunt Bella, I’m your only nephew.”
“Psh. Details.” He could just imagine her flipping her manicured hand in the air as if brushing off such a concept. “Listen, dear, I’m at the airport and don’t have much time. I need a favor.”
“Sure, Aunt Bella. It’s the least I can do after you hooked Lori up with a job.” Andy rolled a pencil between his fingers.
“That’s why I’m calling. I have no doubt Lori can handle the store. Our quick interview together and her résumé proved her competent.” Bella drew in a deep breath. “But I don’t know her very well, and since you obviously do, I was hoping you might keep an eye on things while I’m gone. Be there to lend a hand if she needs it. Unofficially, of course.”
“Of course. You’d hate to cut another paycheck.” Andy grinned.
“Boy, you know good and well—”
“I’m just kidding, Aunt Bella.” Andy dropped the pencil on his desk and leaned back in his chair. “I’m happy to help, for free. I’m sure Lori won’t mind if I hang around the shop a bit.”
Bella paused. “I was also sort of hoping you wouldn’t tell her.”
Andy swallowed. Not tell Lori? That was sure to blow up in his face later. “Aunt Bella, I—”
“I don’t want Lori to get paranoid about my faith in her abilities. I just want someone to keep a watch out and be nearby if there is an emergency.” Bella’s voice turned pleading. “I’m talking about a few pop-in visits, a few phone calls. Nothing you probably wouldn’t do for her anyway.”
She was right about that—of course Andy would visit Lori at work. But if Lori found out about the ulterior motive…Andy winced. It wouldn’t be pretty.
Her voice was beginning to sound far away. “I’ve got to go, dear. The signal is fading. Just say yes.”
Andy released his breath, regretting the words he knew he had to speak. “No problem, Aunt Bella. I’ll keep an eye on Lori and the store for you. Don’t worry about a thing.” He squeezed his eyes closed as he disconnected the call. Maybe Lori wouldn’t ever have to find out. Maybe he could stay subtle enough that she wouldn’t feel that he was doing anything more than being a good friend.
His eyes drifted back to the still-unsigned greeting card. A good friend with a secret motive that had nothing to do with the store or his aunt.
“Pastor Andy?”
Andy looked up from the card. Haley stood in his open office door. “Haley! What are you doing out of school?” He swiped the card into his desk drawer and slammed it shut.
She slowly approached his desk, brow furrowed. “What do you mean? It’s after three o’clock.”
“Are you serious?” Andy glanced at his watch—3:22 p.m. The afternoon sun streaming through the slanted blinds confirmed that the world continued to revolve…and not around him. Had he really been sitting there staring at Lori’s gift for almost two hours? He groaned again.
Haley plopped down in the chair across from his and smoothed her cheerleading uniform over her legs. “I came by to tell you Jeremy and I tried making a strawberry cake for the youth service tomorrow. But he can’t cook at all. He totally ruined our practice cake.”
“You made a practice cake?” He bit back a grin. Somehow, he didn’t picture Jeremy hanging out in a kitchen more than absolutely necessary. But at least they were working together and learning teamwork, as was the goal.
“Tried to.” Haley tossed one braid over her shoulder. “The whole thing tasted like glue.” She wrinkled her nose.
He decided not to ask how she knew what glue tasted like. “And it’s entirely Jeremy’s fault because…?”
Haley stared, duh written all over her expression. “He was the one who stirred.”
“I see.” Andy rubbed his fingers over his eyes. Note to self: pick up dessert for Wednesday night. Maybe that was a good thing. He could swing by the Chocolate Gator, pick up some brownies and visit Lori. If he could find a way to secretly deliver the gift before the service tomorrow, then he could gauge her reaction while he was there.
He sat up straight in his chair. Finally, a plan. Now he just needed to figure out what to write on the card and how to deliver it to the shop. He frowned. There was the problem. He couldn’t just stroll inside with a mustache and hat and plunk the vase on the counter. She’d see right through it.
Right through him. He shuddered. No, he wasn’t ready for that yet. He needed to see how Lori responded before he could open himself to that kind of vulnerability. But who would take the gift and keep his secret? Who did he even trust with his secret? He drummed his nails on the desktop.
“Who are those for?” Haley leaned forward and brushed the petals of the lilies with her fingertips.
“Nobody.” The abrupt dismissal rolled off his tongue before Andy could process how suspicious it sounded, and he winced. Maybe Haley wouldn’t notice.
“Yeah, right.” She stood and leaned over the vase for a better view. “You have a girlfriend or something?”
Or something. Andy coughed. “No, they’re for…” He stopped. He couldn’t lie to his own youth-group member. “A friend.”
Haley winked. “A special friend?”
“Just a friend.” Andy stood as well and gestured toward the open door. “Thanks for stopping by. Don’t worry about getting the dessert. I’ll let you guys slide this time.” He’d probably pay for it later, but the last thing he needed was Haley snooping around and figuring out his plan. Despite her off-again, on-again status with Jeremy, the girl was a super romantic and had at one point tried to set everyone in the youth group up with someone else.
Haley stayed by the flowers, seemingly oblivious to his attempt at her dismissal. “Come on, who is it?” Her hand stilled on the petals. “Not Tawny.”
“No, not Tawny.”
Her breath exhaled in a whoosh, and she continued to fluff the arrangement. “Good. She’s not your type.”
Andy agreed. It was debatable if Tawny Sinclair was anyone’s type, especially after what she did to his best friend, Carter. Gracie and Carter’s relationship was almost over before it began, thanks to Tawny’s seductive meddling, but it had all worked out. At the end of the day, she was still a woman in need of God’s grace, a more conservative wardrobe and a healthy relationship—just definitely not with him. Thankfully Tawny’s youth-group volunteer days were long over.
“Then who are they for?”
Haley wouldn’t quit. Andy came around the front of the desk and steered her toward the door. “Isn’t it enough I’m letting you off dessert duty?”
“No.” She grinned. “I’m a teenager, Pastor Andy. You know it’s never enough. Come on, spill it.”
“Never.” He opened the door wider, and it caught the rug at their feet. He kicked to free it while Haley continued to meddle.
“I’ll do Wednesday desserts for two weeks.”
Andy straightened, feigning interest. “Make it four.”
“Okay, four.”
“Nope, still not telling.” He grinned back.
“Pastor Andy!” She huffed.
“I’m not telling you, because there’s nothing to tell.” A headache started at his temples. Why did he suddenly feel like he was in high school himself? The girl was persistent—no wonder Jeremy looked frustrated all the time. Going against his girlfriend had to be tougher than any opposing school’s quarterback.
“Will this tell me?” Haley dangled a small white card in front of his face.
The delivery card with Lori’s name on it.
The blood rushed to Andy’s head, and his temples pounded harder. When had she—He sucked in his breath. The little minx, when she’d been playing with the arrangement! He’d dodged a zillion buckets-over-the-door and glue-on-the-toilet-seat pranks, but this one he never saw coming.
“Haley, give me that card.” He held out his hand, but she pranced out of his reach and lifted the flap.
“For Lori?” She squealed, then clamped one hand over her mouth. “That’s so perfect. Why didn’t I think of it? And just in time for Valentine’s Day!”
His anger at her disobedience fled. “Perfect? You think so?” He quickly shook his head. Now he was encouraged at the approval of a high-schooler? Still, no one knew him and Lori better than the youth group.
“You guys would be great together.” Haley handed over the delivery card. “And I won’t tell. I promise. I want to help.”
“How in the world could you possibly…” Andy stopped as an idea formed. He looped one arm around Haley’s shoulders and leaned down. “Ever had experience as a delivery girl?”
Chapter Four
Lori stared at the flowers sitting on the counter. Where’d they come from? She’d gone into the kitchen to ask Monny about sugar-free chocolates, and when she came back, the flowers had appeared in all their fuchsia and burgundy glory. The store was deserted, as it was almost closing time, so it couldn’t have been a customer. Maybe Bella had ordered them for the display before she left for Shreveport.
“Summer? You know anything about these?” Doubtful. The twenty-year-old, multipierced college student usually had her nose buried in a magazine during the store’s late-afternoon lull. Or was jamming with her iPod.
Summer straightened from her slump against the counter and shrugged a thin shoulder. The fluorescent lights above glinted off her eyebrow ring. “Beats me. I must have been in the stockroom. Though I’m surprised I didn’t smell those things coming a mile away.”