Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
“I have to go. Early morning,” I tell her as I lean in and kiss her on the forehead.
I turn before I talk myself out of it. I sit in the truck until I see her disappear into the house. Even then, I sit here and wonder what the hell I’m doing. I shouldn’t leave it like this. I can’t. But hearing how excited she was about the job and knowing how young she is, I know I can’t ruin this for her. She needs to live her life and figure out what she wants.
11
Janie
It’s been three days since I’ve heard from Carter. I never thought he’d be this way, but obviously I know nothing. Maybe he just wanted to prove that he could get into the pants of the preacher’s daughter. I blush just thinking about it. It’s all I’ve thought about since that night.
I’m loving my job. I’m really enjoying the marketing part, but more than anything, I’m loving learning to bake. Every day I’ve brought home new treats I’ve made for my father, and he loves them. He knows something’s up with me, but I’m glad he hasn’t asked me about it. He’s only offered to listen if I wanted to talk.
My first night at Sugar Glaze, two of the girls were going to The Whiskey Whistler. I went, and it was my first time in a bar. I was expecting to get looks or disappointing stares, but I didn’t. But also, I didn’t see anyone from my father’s congregation either.
“So are you in tonight?” Tara asks me on my third night at Sugar Glaze.
“In for what?” I ask her as I start to count the till. She’s been training me on closing, and she’s been so much fun.
“For The Whistler. I’m meeting April, and I thought you’d like to go.”
I shake my head. “No, I’d better not.”
Tara, who has been super sweet to me, leans across the counter. “You have to get over him.”
Confused, I ask her. “Who?”
She crosses her arms on her chest. “Carter Grant. I mean he’s hot, I’ll give you that. But you can’t just mope around. He’s not really a settling down kind of guy and—”
“Wait!” I stop trying to count the till and hold my hand up. “What are you talking about? Carter and I weren’t dating.”
She looks at me like she doesn’t believe me. “Really? Everyone... I mean—”
“No, what do you mean everyone... is everyone saying that Carter broke up with me?”
She starts to look uneasy, and I’m sure it’s because my voice is raised. She shrugs her shoulders. “It was all over town that you were seeing each other, and well, now you’re not. People are just saying that they feel sorry for you.”
I gasp. “Feel sorry for me?”
I roll my eyes. The joys of living in a small town. My mind starts to go a mile a minute. Is that why he hasn’t called? Did he think that I planned this—that I told everyone he broke up with me? I put my hand to my head. “Oh my God, are people saying things to him?”
She shrugs again. “I don’t know. I heard over at Red’s Diner earlier that he hadn’t been in town. They’re talking about when he does they’re going to say something, though.”
I grab on to her hand. “No! They can’t do that. We weren’t dating. We’re just friends,” I tell her, even though just saying the words makes me feel not right.
She shrugs. “Well, if that’s true, I feel sorry for Carter. I’m sure people are going to say something to him. You’re sort of the sweetheart of Whiskey Run. Everyone loves you and wants to look out for you.”
I cover my face and start to pace. How do I fix this? How do I fix this? I ask myself. A thought pops into mind, and I whirl on Tara. “Yes, I’m going with you tonight. Let’s finish up so I can get ready.” I look down at my pink Sugar Glaze T-shirt and jeans. “I can’t go like this.”
“I have a shirt you can wear.”
I shake my head. “I’m sure it won’t fit.”
She jumps up and down. “No, it will fit perfectly. Now let’s get going.”
We finish cleaning up and doing the closing procedures. Everything runs smoothly, and I feel like I’ve got a good handle on things. When we’re done, we go into the bathroom and both start to get ready. I didn’t really have close girlfriends growing up, so when Tara offers to do my hair and makeup, I sit back on the stool and let her do it. When she’s done, I can’t stop staring at myself in the mirror. I look like a completely different person. I don’t look anything like Janie Bradshaw, preacher’s daughter.
“And for the finishing touch, here you go.”