And I have no idea why I’m getting nervous.
Maybe more like unnerved, and there’s only one person who can do that to me.
“What do you want?” Danielle asks, and for a brief moment, I think she’s asking what I want with Owen. Then I realize she’s looking at the display cases of sweets.
“Cupcakes,” I say, swallowing down the lump in my throat. I need to get it together. I’m going back to work to meet with a new client, and this time, he’s all mine. Since Mr. Fenton is retiring in a few months, there was no point in starting work with someone new.
“Any particular flavor? We have like a dozen options. I’m all about the red velvet ones with sprinkles right now.”
“Yeah, those sound good. Do you make them?”
“No,” she says with a laugh. “I’m no baker. Which, I know, sounds weird since I own a bakery. It was my grandmother’s dream to run her own bakery, and when this place went up for sale last year, we decided to buy it mostly to keep it running, but as a business venture. I have this whole five-year plan to start new businesses in the area.”
“That’s awesome.”
She shrugs. “Thanks. Gotta put that Yale degree to use somehow, right?”
“You went to Yale?” My eyebrows go up. “That’s impressive!”
“It’s not as impressive as it sounds, even though I suppose it is.” Shaking her head, she goes around the counter and puts four cupcakes in a box for me.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, nothing at all. It’s on the house.”
“Really? No, I can’t.”
She presses her lips into a smile. “Well, you could pay for it with a favor.”
“Huh?”
“Sorry,” she says with a sigh. “I’m not good at this. I need Quinn. Or Scarlet. Yeah…Scarlet is the professional.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What is Scarlet a professional of?”
“She’s out of the business now. We want you to go on a date with Owen.”
“You too?”
She tips her head. “Who else wants you to?”
I shift my weight, fingers pressing into the sides of the pink cupcake box. “And I appreciate how much you all care about Owen. I still care about him too, but in a different way. Going on a date…I just…I don’t know if I can handle it.”
Danielle’s expression softens. “I don’t really know what happened between you two. Logan’s only told me so much, and I don’t think even he knows the whole story. I do know that Owen is a great guy and we all want him to be happy. You seem to make him happy, but if it doesn’t make you happy too, then it’s not fair and I’m sorry for trying to push you two together, even though I suck at it.”
Her words hit me, and I can’t really deny that Owen makes me happy. “It’s hard trusting someone who hurt you,” I admit.
She gives me a sympathetic smile. “I know. I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the cupcakes, and I hope to see you tonight.”
“Thanks again.” I weave my way through the crowd, chewing on the inside of my cheek the whole time. Bright sunlight streams down on me as I walk down the block and back to the firm. I do plan on eating one of these cupcakes as I fill out the paperwork necessary to officially hire me on at the firm now that I have one client of my own.
The rest of the afternoon goes by fast, and I swing by the house for more clothes before going back to Owen’s place. Libby has her dolls all set up in my room. That girl has more Barbies than anyone I know, and Mom dug mine and Carly’s old dolls out of the basement for her to play with as well. She has about a dozen of them tucked into the bed, and a few others are sleeping on the floor, covered with washcloths and hand towels as blankets.
Coming back here and kicking her out seems a little selfish. After all, I have a place to stay and the two nights I’ve spent at Owen’s haven’t been bad at all. I grab enough clothes to last me three days, toss the bag in my car, and drive to Owen’s.
He’s outside doing yard work again, and Lord have mercy, he’s shirtless and sweaty again. I park along the street, grab my bag, and get out.
“Hey,” I call with a wave. My heels click as I walk up the driveway, and Owen straightens up, turning away from the weeds in the landscaping he was pulling.
“Hey, Charlie.” He wipes sweat from his brow with his arm. “Have a good day at the office?”
“I did, actually. I have my first official Eastwood client now.”
“Fun. Is he a big crime lord you’re going to defend?”
“Hardly. And you know I can’t talk about things. Lawyer-client privilege and all.”