Fool for Love (6 page)

“I don’t want to talk about Jayce.”

“You never do.” Devlin noted her flushed cheeks and racked his memories and, as always, came up with nothing. “One day, one of you is going to tell me why.”

“I need you to be nice to Chloe,” Rocky said after loading their plates with scrambled eggs and buttered toast.

Devlin poured boiling water into their mugs. “Why?”

“Because I need some peace of mind. I’m worried Gram is going to seriously hurt herself if she’s left unsupervised. I think she’s going through some crisis and she doesn’t want to confide in family or friends. Sometimes it’s easier to work your problems out with people who don’t know you well. People who won’t try to influence you or judge you or out-and-out tell you what to do.”

“We still talking about Gram?” Devlin asked as he sat across from his sister.

“Of course,” she said without making eye contact.

Huh.

“I’ve known Monica for a few years now. She’s as down-to-earth and trustworthy as they get. She loves Gram as much as everyone else in Sugar Creek. She wouldn’t set her up with a total incompetent. No matter what Jayce told you, remember, there are two sides to every coin.”

He could mention that Jayce had pointed out the very same thing but didn’t. He did, however, flash on the woman he’d run into at the supermarket and the woman his friend had described. Last night, sitting beside her at the Shack, he’d gotten a peek of both sides—sweet and flaky. It was part of what had kept him awake all hours. Chloe was a tantalizing enigma. She was also a keen distraction to the possible Walmart disaster. He couldn’t take action until his dad green-lighted his plans for J.T.’s, and the man was dragging his golf-cleated feet. Devlin glanced at his sister, the apple of her father’s eye and able to sweet-talk the old man into almost anything. He flashed on Chloe, wondering if he’d learn more by taking a softer approach. They’d clicked before they’d known each other’s identities. They could click again.

Slathering his toast with orange marmalade, he said, “You know my idea about remodeling and expanding the store?”

The tension between them evaporated with that neutral question. She glanced up from her plate. “Yeah?”

He smiled. “I’ll ease off Chloe if you work on Dad.”

She smiled back. “Deal.”

SIX

Chloe stared at Daisy Monroe’s mammoth three-story home with a combination of dread and awe. Colonial Revival, Monica had called it, one of eight popular historic architectural styles in Vermont. To be honest, it looked a little scary. Like a haunted house or the creepy house in Hitchcock’s
Psycho.
“It must have a gazillion rooms.”

“Close.” Monica parked the Suburban and cut the engine. “I’ve been in the house several times—every member of Cupcake Lovers takes turns hosting meetings, including Daisy—and I still don’t think I’ve seen every room.”

“How does she keep up with it?”

“Devlin’s dad, Jerome Monroe, Daisy’s son, hired a professional cleaning service about ten years ago after Daisy refused to move in with them or into a smaller home.”

“Is that how long she’s been a widow? Ten years?”

“More or less.”

Chloe remembered what it was like when her mom died. Heartbroken, Chloe’s dad had never remarried and, as far as she knew, he didn’t see anyone steady. If he had the occasional affair, she didn’t know. She couldn’t imagine. Or maybe she didn’t want to imagine. Who wanted to think about their parent having sex? All she knew was that he, too, lived alone in their big old house in Marlton. “Must be lonely.” Maybe that’s why it had taken Chloe so long to commit to a relationship. Subconsciously she couldn’t deal with loving someone for years only to lose him to death.

Or a Parisian tart.

“I never met Daisy’s husband, but I’ve heard he was domineering and stuffy. She doesn’t talk about him much, so, I’m not sure how much she misses him. As for being lonely, the Monroe clan is huge, lots of uncles and aunts, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren. Plus they’re related to the McCloud and Bentley crew. Plus Daisy has a lot of friends, although her closest buds starting dying off a few years ago.”

Chloe’s friends hadn’t died off, but most of them had faded away. You can only turn down so many invitations before people stop calling. Crazy, she hadn’t met Daisy, yet she felt a weird bond. “That’s sad.”

“Yeah, but nothing keeps Daisy Monroe down for long. She’s a real pip. Funny thing is, folks say she used to be conventional and reserved.”

“Probably because of her husband,” Chloe said, thinking on how she’d curbed her enthusiasm because of Ryan’s influence.

“Maybe,” Monica said. “She really came out of her shell about three years ago.”

Chloe’s lip quirked. “At seventy-two.”

Monica laughed. “Gotta watch out for those late bloomers.” She squeezed Chloe’s knee. “Ready?”

“Sure. No. Give me a minute.”

“I’ll give you several. Want me to drive around the block a few times?”

Chloe shook her head. “Just need a sec.” She blew out a breath and swiped her clammy hands over the legs of her grey chinos. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’ve held dozens of different jobs, worked with and for all kinds of personality types. “

“I blame Dev. He made you self-conscious last night. I knew he was going to be a pain, but I didn’t count on him being a jackass. What was with the condescending attitude?”

“I don’t know.”

“And
you.
I’ve never seen you so easily flustered. The old you would have won him over with bubbly charm.”

Chloe flushed remembering how she’d morphed into an antisocial butterfly. Even after he’d left, she’d been unable to rally. More than anything, she’d been stunned that, even though he’d acted like a jerk, she was still attracted to the man. How pathetic was that?

Too pathetic to even share with her best friend.

“I know,” Chloe said, feeling hollow. “I think I lost the old me somewhere in the first year after I moved in with Ryan. He was molding me into a more sedate, stable, well, adult, I guess. Only that wasn’t really me, just his vision for me, and when I realized
his
potential … he dumped me.” She glanced at her friend, panic fluttering in her stomach. “I’m not sure I know who I am anymore.”

Monica grasped her hand. “Maybe today’s not the best day to start a new job. Come home with me; stay another night or two. I’ll square it with Daisy without sharing details.”

Chloe squeezed her friend’s hand and forced a smile. “No. I’m good. Really.” She’d heard Monica and Leo going at it late last night and again early this morning. They were head over heels in love and trying for a baby. Chloe couldn’t be happier for her friend, and at the same time it made her absolutely miserable. A reminder of what she didn’t have and wouldn’t have for a very long time, if ever. She pushed open her car door. “Let’s go.”

A few seconds later, she was rolling her mega-sized suitcase along the sidewalk and up Daisy’s driveway. Monica led the way. Chloe inhaled the scent of freshly mown grass and admired the beautiful landscaped lawn. So different from the occasional tree and patch of grass in Manhattan. And instead of soulless skyscrapers, she was surrounded by majestic mountains. The sights and scents of nature reminded her of simpler times. The closer she got to the massive house, the calmer her nerves, and when the front door swung open she felt a bit of balance in her wobbly world.

“You’re younger than I expected, Miss Madison.”

“You’re hipper than I expected, Mrs. Monroe.” Chloe stared at the short, spry woman on the threshold. Betty White channeling Whoopi Goldberg. Daisy’s silver hair was a halo of short, frothy curls and her cat-eye glasses were tinted pink and accented with subtle bling. Her attire was equally funky—faded jeans, a bohemian peasant blouse, and a pair of metallic gold sneakers. Compared to her—dressed in straight-legged chinos, a light pink knit tunic, and grey ballet flats—Chloe felt like a preppy sorority sister.

Daisy scrunched her penciled brows. “Is hip cool?”

Chloe smiled. “Very.”

The woman extended a wrinkled, age-spotted hand. “Call me Daisy.”

“Chloe.”

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Monica said with a huge grin. “See you at the meeting tonight, Daisy.”

“Did you get the call?” she asked. “Rocky’s oven’s busted. We’re meeting at Devlin’s.”

“Got it,” Monica said with a sympathetic glance at Chloe.

Chloe telegraphed a silent,
No problem.
She’d drive Daisy to the meeting, but she wasn’t going inside, no matter where it was being held. She wasn’t ready to meet an entire social club, especially a club devoted to baking cupcakes. Desserts equaled heartache and the urge to do bodily harm with assorted kitchen utensils. She imagined Rocky serving chocolate cupcakes and Monica having to tackle her to the floor as she lunged for a cast-iron baking pan and started swinging. Not a great first impression.

Daisy ushered Chloe inside. “Park your suitcase anywhere, kitten. We’ll pick out your room when we get back.”

“Where are we going?”

“Sugar Creek.”

“But we’re in Sugar Creek.”

“No, I mean
the
creek. I’m in the mood for a picnic.” She pointed to her left. “Kitchen’s that way. Make us some sandwiches and nab a bottle of wine. I’ll fetch my hat and purse.”

She took off and Chloe sought out the kitchen, instantly charmed by the woman and her home. It might have looked intimidating from the outside, but the interior couldn’t have been more warm and welcoming. A mix of colonial and Victorian décor. Exquisitely perfect. Like something out of
Better Homes and Gardens
magazine. Chloe soaked in the antiques, the collectibles, the perfectly arranged clutter.

She stopped cold on the threshold of the spacious kitchen. She could scarcely believe her eyes. State-of-the-art appliances and a gazillion culinary gadgets. A Cuisinart food processor, KitchenAid stand mixer, waffle baker, slow cooker, Breville Café Roma espresso maker. She checked her pulse, because she was pretty sure she’d died and gone to heaven.

*   *   *

Devlin was pretty sure he’d died and gone to hell. “What do you mean, a quarter of our employees put in applications at the supercenter?”

“You can’t blame them, Dev.” Chris Bane, his assistant manager, dragged a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Walmart’s offering—”

“I know what they’re offering.” A better health plan and a generous benefits package. J.T.’s was an independent store. Small potatoes compared to a national chain. “Dammit.”

“There’s also a growing fear that the supercenter will put us out of business. Why shop here when—”

“I’m working on that,” Devlin said. “Renovation and expansion should keep us in the game.”

Chris angled his head. “Shame your dad’s opposed to change.”

“Working on that, too. Do me a favor and temper the gossip on the floor. Tell them we’re in there swinging and have no intention of going down.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask.” Devlin drank the last of his coffee and texted his sister:
did u call dad?

did u mk nice w/chloe?

will do after wk

now wd b better

“Dammit.”
on it

*   *   *

“Why are you driving so slow?”

“I don’t want to risk a ticket.” Or a fender bender. Chloe was supremely uncomfortable in this four-wheeled boat. She had to sit on the same pillow Daisy usually sat on to see over the dashboard, and the gearshift wasn’t even in the right place. It was on the freaking steering column!

Daisy leaned left and peered over the rims of her prescription Jackie O sunglasses. “You’re going ten miles under the speed limit.”

“The slower I go, the less damage I’ll do if I hit a deer or squirrel or anything. Besides, this road is rutted with potholes.” Chloe flexed her hands on the steering wheel of Daisy’s 1964 Cadillac.
1964!
Chloe still couldn’t believe it. This car had been made almost twenty years before she was born. Even so, it was in good working order and pristine condition. Sort of like Daisy. Chloe felt like she was transporting precious cargo in a priceless antique.
Hello,
pressure
?

They were at least twenty miles from town in the fricking middle of nowhere driving through the middle of the fricking woods. According to Chloe’s new boss, this one-lane dirt road was a shortcut to Sugar Creek—the river, not the town. Chloe didn’t want to damage the car, and she certainly didn’t want to damage Daisy. Either would prompt a visit from Devlin Monroe. Chloe hoped to avoid him for a week or two while she reconnected with her old self or discovered an enlightened new self, someone capable of handling an Alpha Manipulator.

“No offense, kitten, but you drive like an old lady.” Daisy crossed her arms over her chest and grunted. “I would’ve been better off with Morgan Freeman.”

It took a second, but then Chloe flashed on the award-winning movie they’d watched in one of her film classes. “I get it,” she managed without rolling her eyes.
“Driving Miss Daisy.” Ha.