Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“I appreciate the offer, and I just might have to take you up on that again sometime.”
Joanne’s fork clanged down onto her plate, and she shot each of us a dark look.
It was such a contrast to the look she had given me just that morning, when I had brought her coffee, that it felt like a cold jab to the gut.
That other look—and the sunflower-bright smile that had gone with it—had felt really good. Now, though? Now that I knew I was probably mostly responsible for Joanne’s dark mood, based on how quickly her light had dimmed once I'd started talking about selling that morning.
I didn’t know Joanne very well, but just the thought that I’d upset her left me feeling like all kinds of shit. It made me want to make it right.
But… I couldn’t.
“Something wrong, dear?” Tammy’s voice was high-pitched and sugary-sweet as she turned to her daughter. “You haven’t been yourself all night, Joanne.”
My gaze darted between mother and daughter. I could feel the tension in the air as if it was a physical thing. As uncomfortable as it was to get caught in the middle of, though, I wasn’t about to interrupt.
“You know perfectly well what’s wrong, Mom,” Joanne said tightly.
For just a moment—so quickly I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been looking right at her—the smile and sweetness left Tammy’s face, replaced with a steely look that caught me by surprise. Just as quickly, though, her face softened again, and she turned back to me.
“Joanne told me before dinner that you plan on selling the flower shop, is that right?”
That coldness was instantly back in my gut, making it clench tightly around the amazing meal I’d just eaten.
I held eye contact with Tammy, but I could feel Joanne’s gaze lock onto me as she waited for my response. I’d never felt the need to weigh my words so carefully in my life.
“Yes, ma’am, that is the plan.” I kept my voice calm and measured.
I wasn’t sure if I could ease the tension around the table, but at the very least, I was determined to do my best not to make it worse. Hopefully I could find a way to quickly—and politely—get out of the situation before I said anything stupid.
“And is that the reason you’ve been so quiet tonight, Joanne?” Tammy turned her attention back to her daughter, who wasn’t even trying to hide her embarrassment or disbelief.
“Seriously, Mom? You want to do this now?”
She shrugged. “I think it’s important to say what’s on your mind. You sitting there being miserable isn’t helping anyone. In fact, it’s probably making our guest feel uncomfortable.”
Joanne rolled her eyes. “And I’m sure this conversation isn’t helping Brady’s comfort level. But okay, fine. I don’t mind telling the truth and saying what’s on my mind, if that’s what the two of you want.”
I felt like a deer caught in headlights. Of course, I didn’t want to keep Joanne from saying how she felt, but at the same time, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to like the part that came next. Still, there was really only one thing to do. One thing I’d learned from Dad was that when shit got tough, you had to put your head down and push through.
It was the one piece of advice that had stuck with me, and it had served me well throughout my sports career.
“Yes, Joanne. It’s what I want,” Tammy said firmly.
I could only nod in agreement, even though “want” might have been a stretch.
“Okay. Great.”
Joanne shrugged as if she didn’t mind, but her brows were furrowed, and her teeth were clenched as she turned to face me directly for the first time all night.
Damn, but she was still beautiful, even when she was mad. Or… hurt. Or whatever it was I was seeing on her face.
“Yeah, I guess I understand your decision to sell the place, Brady. I mean, it’s your business, your prerogative. But I hate it. I hate that you don’t love it as much as I do. As much as—” Joanne swallowed hard, and my gut clenched again at the tears I could see welling up in her eyes. “Anyway, I just hate it,” she went on, her voice husky with emotion. “I hate that you don’t see what I see in that shop—all the years of hard work and hopes and dreams and love. And I hate that you’re willing to throw all of that away simply because it might be… be hard for you to deal with.”
Joanne snapped her mouth closed, sucking in a shuddering breath, and the sick feeling in my stomach got even worse.
Then, without another word, she stood up from the table and left the room. After a few moments of silence, I heard the jingle of her keys followed by the front door opening and then slamming shut.