can end in heartbreak for no good reason, how could I possibly stand a chance? I’m overthinking things again. I mean nothing’s even happening with me and Guy, we just kissed a little. We’re not even a couple. It would be ridiculous to already be anticipating our breakup.
“What’s this?” Fred asks when there’s a lull in business. She’s holding up the white bag I took from her when she first arrived.
“You had it when you came in. I thought it was yours.”
She shakes her head and hands it to me. “It was outside on the bumper.”
I take it from her and peer inside. There’s a chocolate croissant wrapped in paper and a folded note. I peel it open.
Can I take you to dinner later? I know a place that has fancy macaroni and cheese. Guy
I smile. His handwriting is perfect block script. That’s just like him.
“Why are you smiling like a dope?”
I drop the smile. “It’s a chocolate croissant. From Guy.”
She grabs the bag from me and chucks it in the bin.
“What did you do that for?”
She rolls her eyes, a little spark of her former self returning. “Scarlett, don’t be naïve, it probably has ex-lax or something in it.”
I bite my lip.
Her mouth pops open before I can even get words together in my head to tell her anything. “What aren’t you telling me? Have you been consorting with the enemy?”
“I don’t want to ruin your perfectly good mope, but I think the pranks are done. After the whole salt-for-sugar issue.”
I explain everything, how Guy helped with the wedding catering, and then sent Carson to be my last-minute savior. Then I tell her about dinner, and how he was with his sisters. I don’t tell her every little detail, as some of it is too personal and doesn’t feel right to share. But I give her the gist. “He’s like a whole different person than you would expect.”
Fred is quiet when I finish and I sort of expect her to deride the whole situation, especially after all the “down with love” monologuing that’s been happening for the past few hours, but instead she nods and says softly, “Maybe you should give it a chance. You and Guy.”
“You really think so? Even though . . .”
“Just because I suck at picking men doesn’t mean you should be lonely forever.”
“You don’t suck at picking men. You’ve only had the one. When you’ve made half a dozen bad decisions like I have, then we can talk. And besides, I’m not lonely.”
“Oh, Scarlett, maybe you’re not lonely, but you want love. You love love. Half your cupcakes are named things like Love Me Lavender and Romantic Raspberry. You’re obsessed with weddings. You want to get married and have a thousand babies to spoil. You can be strong and independent and still want a partner and a family. Don’t let your fear of getting hurt hold you back from your dreams, and from something that could be amazing. And Guy clearly isn’t the total cretin we thought. Maybe he acts like a dick sometimes, but he probably needs someone just like you to make him less of a douche nougat. I can’t think of anyone that could do a better job.”
I don’t know what to say after her speech. That’s the longest, most sincere thing she’s ever said to me. I move to stand next to her, leaning into her side. “Are you saying that maybe our weird matches?”
“Exactly.” Her smile is small but it’s there. I give her a hug and as we part, she glances out the window. “I think your weirdo is coming over to see you.” She nods in the direction of Decadence and my gaze swivels outside.
Guy stalks across the lot and my eyes devour him. He’s wearing dark jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Such a simple outfit that would be so much better on my bedroom floor. Oh no, there’s a pervert in my mind and he’s rasping out terrible pick-up lines. I banish the internal creep and swing open the back-door right as Guy is lifting a hand to knock.
His eyes lighten when they meet mine, but he doesn’t make any moves in my direction. Instead, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.”
He breaks our stare and rocks back on his heels slightly. “Did you get my note?”
“I did. I actually saw it a minute ago.”
“Oh. Are you free tonight?”
I glance behind me at Fred who’s stabbing a cupcake with a spoon.
“Rain check? I promised