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)
And if she didn’t…
“So, you’re going to hold off on selling until after the wedding?” Joanne’s question pulled me from my thoughts.
“Yes,” I said, nodding quickly and hoping the heat that was rising to my cheeks hadn’t given away the direction my mind had taken. “You win. I won’t sell until after that event.”
Joanne sighed and sank back into the chair she’d been sitting in before, clearly relieved that she wasn’t going to have to argue her point anymore.
Again, it was one of the things that I admired about the woman. Someone else in her position might have just shrugged and let me mess everything up, simply out of spite. But no matter what Joanne’s personal feelings were about me—or the fact that I was selling the shop—she’d remained professional and shown that her love of the business won out over anything else.
It was enough to confirm the goodness that I had recognized in Joanne almost from the moment we’d met, and it was more than enough to earn my respect… on top of everything else.
“And I’ll also be here to help, with whatever you need,” Joanne said. “Naomi will, too. Above all else, we want the store to do well, no matter what happens down the road.”
“I appreciate that, and—” I swallowed hard, the words almost dying in my throat before I was able to get them out. I needed to say it, though. “And I know my dad would’ve appreciated it, too.”
Joanne smiled.
Finally, that bright, wide, thousand-watt smile that I hadn’t seen nearly enough of since that first day we’d met. It made me want to see it more, want to deserve to see it more, especially since I knew I was the reason it had been mostly absent for the past several days.
“Thank you,” she said, quietly. “That means a lot to me.” She cleared her throat and stood up abruptly. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw Joanne quickly swipe at her eyes as she walked toward the office door. “Unless you need anything else, I should probably get to work.”
I shook my head. “No, that’s all I’ve got. Thank you, though. For everything.”
Joanne gave a brisk nod and walked out the office door, closing it behind her. I thought about everything we’d said in the few minutes before she had left. Even though she had disagreed with me—and had successfully argued her point—about the timing of selling the shop, it hadn’t been an argument. There hadn’t been the unpleasantness or the awkwardness that I had felt after dinner the week before.
I finally felt like Jo and I were trying to—and hopefully starting to—understand each other. At least a little. And even though we might still have a long way to go, and might not ever really get to that point, there was one thing I had no doubt about: Dad had been lucky to have a woman like Joanne working for him… and I was just as lucky that she had decided to stay on and help.
I would have been in over my head without Joanne there, and we both knew it. But rather than use that as a bargaining chip, she had gone out of her way to be as helpful as possible while still sticking to her principles.
I never would’ve thought my father could’ve inspired that kind of loyalty and dedication, but now that I was the one benefiting from it, I wanted to be worthy of that kind of loyalty and dedication, too.
Now, whether I liked it or not, I had a month to prove that Henry wasn’t the only Davis man who could follow through on commitments and get shit done.
With Joanne’s help, I would make this wedding a success for Patty’s Petals. I’d do the right thing to make Joanne proud. To make myself proud.
To make my father proud.
Chapter Twenty - Brady
“Brady Davis?” I looked up when Will Whitley’s familiar voice echoed across the lobby. “I knew that was you the minute you got out of that truck. Is that the same one you drove back in high school?”
The man’s face had looked vaguely familiar from across the room, but I hadn’t quite been able to place it. His voice, on the other hand, was unmistakable.
“Not quite the same truck,” I answered, grinning as Will closed the distance between us and pumped my hand vigorously. “But it might as well be, it’s so old. How the hell have you been?”
“Can’t complain, really. Let’s step into my office and catch up. I’ve got the paperwork you called about earlier.”
I followed my old high school friend into the glass-walled office and sat down opposite the big desk with its stacks of neatly organized papers.
Will had always been a bit of a perfectionist, nice and orderly. A job at the bank was perfect for him, and he seemed to be happy.