Wanting Mr. Cane (Cane 1)

In the food court, Kelly sat across from me, Mom beside me, and Frankie to the left of Kelly. I’d just finished eating a chicken sandwich and cinnamon pretzel. I felt like a pig for being the only one to buy something sweet, but then my best friend spared me my shameful, fat-girl thoughts by saying, “I think I want some ice cream.” She pulled out her wallet and stood. “Anyone else?”

“Oh!” Mom sipped her tea and then nodded, standing with her. “I was eyeing the ice cream, too. I’ll come with you. Kandy, Kelly? You guys want anything?”

“No, I’m okay,” I said.

“I’ll take mint chocolate please.” Kelly started to hand Mom her credit card, but Mom rapidly shook her head and forced her hand back.

“You’ve spent enough today. The least I can do is get you something sweet.” She smiled at Kelly and then took off with Frank.

Then we were alone.

We glanced at each other, giving awkward, lopsided smiles.

“I just wanted to tell you,” Kelly started with laughter in her voice, breaking the ice. “Make sure you tuck the lingerie deep in your suitcase and unpack it as soon as you get home so your dad doesn’t see it.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I will.” Silence surrounded us again. I ran the pad of my finger over a heap of the cinnamon on my tray.

“Did you get all you wanted? We can always do a little more shopping if you want to grab some more—”

“No, Kelly. Seriously. It’s okay.” I gave her a smile. A genuine one. “I have more than enough stuff.” I glanced at the four bags full of clothes by my feet. “Thank you for this. Frankie really appreciates it too.”

She smiled, like her heart was melting in the best way possible from the compliment. “Anytime, Kandy. And hey—” she stretched her arm across the table and placed it on top of mine, “anytime you need a girl to go shopping with, I’m here. I love to shop. It’s all I do. Did Quinton ever tell you that I design houses and offices?”

I shook my head and straightened my back a little more at the mention of his name. “No, he never told me, but I can see you doing something like that.”

“Yep. I’m an interior designer. I’ve designed for all people, but my favorite person that I got to design for is someone you’ll never be able to guess…” She gave a smug smile, waiting for me to guess.

“Who?”

“Adele.” She beamed, and I gasped.

“No way! You know Adele?”

“Yes! I worked on an office for her mother in London for two weeks. She loved it. Couldn’t stop gushing about it. And she was such a lovely woman.”

“Wow—” I had no words. Kelly had met Adele. One of my favorite singers ever. Suddenly I wanted to become her best friend. “That’s so awesome.”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll have another big job like that, and I’ll be able to send you pictures.” Kelly leaned forward, her hazel eyes a little more serious now. “I really would like us to become friends, Kandy. I don’t want to force it—trust me, I remember what’s it’s like to want my own space as an eighteen-year-old woman—but if you ever need anything, just let me know. Don’t be afraid to ask me.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Kelly. I’ll keep that in mind.”

She returned a soft smile, sitting back and sipping her tea. “Quinton will be happy to know we got along.”

“Quinton.” I laughed.

“What?” she tittered, eyes sparkling.

“You’re the only person I know who calls him that. It’s funny to hear his real name sometimes.”

“Oh!” She laughed, placing her cup down. “Trust me, he hates it, but when I met him, it’s how he introduced himself. Quinton before Cane, so I guess it just kind of stuck with me.” She shrugged and looked sideways, like she was thinking about the first time they met.

Now was my chance to ask. Cane couldn’t stand talking about Kelly with me. The only way I was going to get answers was through the primary source: her.

“How did you guys meet, anyway?” I asked, running my finger over the cinnamon and pretending it was a casual question.

“Oh, gosh.” She sighed and laughed, as if the memory of meeting him would never fade. “Well, I was actually attending a bachelorette party for one of my friends in Charlotte. We went out one night to this club and had a section reserved for us. I had volunteered to get drinks for everyone, so I went to the bar and ordered way too many to carry—but I tried! I probably shouldn’t have, though, because as soon as I turned, I forgot there was a step I had to take down and ended up tripping and dropping every single drink.”

“Oh my gosh,” I gasped, fighting a laugh.

“Yeah! Everyone was just laughing and all the girls came down in their gorgeous bridesmaid outfits, trying to help me clean it up. I mean, there was glass everywhere—all over my shoes, my skirt, my shirt. My shirt was literally soaked by the way, and it was light pink, so my bra was pretty clear for everyone to see. Then, out of nowhere, this guy came up and asked me if I was okay. He was so concerned, and didn’t drop his eyes to my chest like I expected a man to do. He took me to a back office, and at first I freaked out, thinking this guy was trying to do something or come onto me, you know?” Laughing, she says, “I told him that if he was expecting something freaky, he had the wrong fucking idea.”