Reminder: Challenge accepted!
Ha!
My mouth drops open.
Holt sent me flowers?
Holt, aka Hot Guy, aka Hot Dad, was thinking of me?
Holt remembers his parting words?
Oh. My. God! Holt was actually flirting.
Lord, help me. This guy is too perfect.
“Who are they from?” Virginia asks.
Clearly, she’s oblivious to my internal freakout moment. I find my composure and answer her. “Holt. The customer who bought Mrs. Dillard’s donuts.”
“Aww, how sweet,” she says. “He's hot and he's a gentleman, too. What a catch.”
I agree.
“You caught his attention,” Virginia says.
“She’s right, Everly,” Callum echoes.
“It's nothing,” I dismiss. “He’s just another customer I helped out. I made his daughter happy. That's it!”
I really can't believe he did this.
“I know you kept brushing it off when I brought it up on Friday when we were closing, but it didn't go unnoticed how cozy that conversation between the two of you was.” Callum won’t let it go.
“And I told you you’re making a lot out of nothing.” I stick to my guns.
I glance up at him and see his unconvinced expression.
“You are,” I insist.
“Bullshit,” he rebuts. “I'll say this about your guy, he's persistent.”
I furrow my eyebrows.
“First off, he's not my guy.” I know my face is beet red from Callum’s insinuation and because I like how it sounds. “Second off, what do you mean by he's persistent?”
“Your guy dropped by the shop on Saturday looking for you.”
“He did?” Virginia and I ask in unison.
“Yup. I told him it was your day off and you’d be back on Sunday. He came back yesterday with his daughter in tow, but I had to burst his bubble again.”
“Wait. What? You mean, he was here and it’s only now you tell me?”
“I thought he’s just another customer?” he grins. “What’s the big deal?”
Callum is enjoying himself immensely at my expense.
“Oh, stop it,” I swat his arm. “Why didn't you say anything?”
“I didn’t tell you because I thought you would be in yesterday, and this morning has been so busy it slipped my mind.”
“Yeah, sorry about yesterday again.”
“Don't be. It's my fault. I'm partially responsible for your temporary inability to walk,” he laughs.
“I still hate you,” I volley.
“Oh, how quickly she changes her tune. I thought you loved your trapeze lesson.”
“Yeah, that’s before I was able to understand what Oliver meant by, ‘Things might be a little sore tomorrow’.”
A little?
More like a whole lot.
Ainsley was on the waiting list for a later appointment for a mani-pedi. When her beautician called and told her two clients had canceled, she enlisted me as a replacement. Her treat. After spending four luxurious hours of pampering—which included a facial, a back massage and lounging—we headed back to her place for the rest of the afternoon. After dinner and a generous amount of wine, I decided to lie down on her couch for a few minutes. Well, I passed out. When I tried to get up to go back to my place, I couldn’t move. I ended up spending all of Sunday at my cousin’s. Callum had to give up his day off to cover for me. It took me three steam sessions before my muscles were willing to cooperate again. Thank God Ainsley has a spa-like bathroom in her sprawling Bel Air home.
“Anyway, he was here,” Callum says.
“I can’t believe it was my day off,” Virginia frowns.
“This is what I had to deal with all weekend long.” Callum shakes a parent-like finger at Virginia.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Just like the first time he was here, he created quite the commotion.”
“Translation, please,” I demand.
“The staff couldn't stop talking about, and I quote, ‘the very hot dad, his adorable little girl and his super cute dog’. After an hour of that crap, I had to put my foot down and forbid anyone from mentioning him again. It was like working with hens in heat.”
I fight off a smile.
I don’t blame them.
“I told him to come back because I suspected he wanted to deliver his message in person. I was right. Case in point,” Callum’s eyes shift to the flowers. I follow his gaze, my cheeks instantly burning up again. The thought of Holt going through all that trouble is endearing.
“I’m sure he’ll drop by today again. He’s determined,” Callum says.
I shake my head. “He’s out of town.”
“Too bad,” Virginia says.
“Indeed. Pity,” Callum mocks.
I’m about to throw a stinky repartee his way, when the front door swings open again. My cousin Skylar strolls in, looking as chic as ever in a puffy white shirt, a red midi-skirt that hits her below the calf and a pair of matching to-die-for red high heels. Her brown hair is piled up in a messy topknot bun and barely-there make-up only add to the effortless look.
For God’s sake.
It’s only nine-thirty in the morning and she looks like she just stepped off the runway. I, on the other hand, am wearing skinny jeans, a pair of cute ballerinas from Ainsley’s latest collection, and a t-shirt that reads, ‘STRAIGHT OUT Of Everly’s Donut Shop’. Yup, Callum’s idea. It’s a miracle I’m not covered in flour and sugar.
Skylar is the best-dressed doctor I know. I keep promising myself I’ll raid her closet. I still haven’t gotten around to it. She has a flawless style. There’s a height difference between us, but we’re both quite toned. In Skylar’s case, it’s genetic. Just like her cousin Ainsley, she has a slim and slender model body type. I’m more on the shorter side. Given what I do for a living, my religious exercise routine is my savior. What can I say? I love sugar.
“Hello, Sugar Glaze Shack,” Skylar says as she struts toward the counter.
“We’re closed,” Callum tells her.
“Hey, I’m family,” Skylar argues.
“Family we never see,” he says.
“I’m a busy doctor. And I do my part by ordering donuts by the dozen as often as I can,” she says in an almost indignant tone.
“Yeah, yeah,” Callum says.
“She does,” I defend.
Just like Ainsley and Callum, Skylar has been incredibly supportive since I took over this bakery.
“Thank you, coz,” Skylar’s hazel green eyes twinkle with complicity.
“Always, coz,” I respond with as much connivance.
“To prove my point, I’ll order three dozen donuts for a meeting with my peers at the University Sports Medicine. We’re getting together over lunch on Thursday. Just give me a variety, hon.” She turns to Callum. “There.”
“See, Callum. Good customer,” I tease as I type her order on the iPad.
He shakes his head.
“Thank you, Everly.” She takes a seat on one of the stools in front of the counter reserved for coffee orders. “It’s good to see that not everyone is grouchy this morning,” she rolls her eyes at her cousin. “In any case, how’s Monday treating you so far?” Skylar moves her attention back to me.