The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love - By Beth Pattillo Page 0,44
should call and tell them to take her off the mailing list; she was only tormenting herself. She’d thought that once her mother was gone, she would finally be free to leave Sweetgum and pursue the future she’d always dreamed of. That dream had been the one thing that kept her head above water during the upheavals of the last five years, but her plan had depended on finding someone to buy the dress shop, and given its current financial state, who would throw their money away like that?
Camille slid the pad to the side and flipped open the catalog. If she could go to college, what kind of classes would she take first? She enjoyed fashion and looked forward to her modest buying trips to Atlanta twice a year. But maybe she’d rather try something new—computers or engineering or fine arts. Anything, really if it got her out of Sweetgum.
After a long, silent morning, the bell above the door rang.
She looked up, thankful for the first customer of the day, and saw Dante. He wore a shirt and tie and looked far more enticing than he had a right to. She felt a strange fluttering in the region of her heart and tightly curled the fingers of one hand in protest. She was determined not to let him get to her.
“Afternoon, Dante.” She came around the counter and stopped beside one of the clothing stands. She put a hand on a rack in a nonchalant pose, but really it was to steady herself.
“I thought I’d drop in and renew my invitation. I’ll make reservations at the Watermark.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Dante—”
“C’mon, Camille.” He stepped closer, and she gripped the rack more firmly. He was like a magnet, always drawing her closer even as she fought against it. “We’d have a great time,” he said, tempting her. “And you need to get out of Sweetgum, at least for a little while.”
Truer words had rarely been spoken, she thought glumly. But was an evening’s liberation worth the risk of his company?
Her hesitation encouraged him. “We could drive up early in the afternoon. See a movie first. I’ll even take you to a chick flick.”
She smiled in spite of herself. “My choice?”
His face tightened in a pained expression. “Yeah. Your choice.”
She was sorely tempted. “I don’t know.”
He looked so delighted at her hesitation that she would have thought she’d already agreed. “I’ll take that for a yes.”
“Dante, you can’t just—”
“Camille, I learned a long time ago that with you no means no. But hesitation means you can be persuaded.” He smiled and her willpower softened in proportion to its charm.
“When did you learn I was so persuadable?”
His expression grew serious. “When you almost agreed to go to the prom with me.”
“When did I do that?” But the moment she asked the question, the memory came tumbling back.
He’d cornered her coming out of the girls’ bathroom a week before the senior prom and asked her, probably for the tenth time, to be his date. She’d wanted to agree so badly, and she’d had such a horrible day. At that moment, she’d have liked nothing more than to grab him, tell him to put his arms around her, and bury her head against his broad shoulder. He seemed to promise security and comfort. But then Natalie and Cody had walked by and called out some teasing remark about how Dante was finally going to get lucky, and she’d withdrawn, packing her emotions back into their deep freeze, and turned his invitation down flat.
She looked at him now, a little older, definitely a man and not a boy, and she had the same urge to cling to him for strength and support.
“I’m not asking for anything big, Camille. Just an evening of your company”
“Okay” What? Had she lost her mind?
“Okay?” His smile was as wide as his chest. He pounded one hand with the other. “All right. I’ll pick you up at one o’clock on Saturday.”
“Not this Saturday, Dante.”
“Then the next one.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Then the one after.”
Camille nodded, the adrenaline rushing through her veins at odds with her outward calm. “The one after,” she agreed.
He turned and hustled for the door.
“Dante? Where are you going?” Camille felt a knot form in her stomach. She didn’t want him to leave.
He looked back, laughter in his eyes. “I’m getting out of here before you can change your mind.”
And then he was gone, and Camille was laughing too. It felt good, though