Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
TWENTY-EIGHT
CHLOE
The beach is crowded, but we’ve managed to find a nice little spot away from the chaos. The sun is high overhead, beating down on me while I recline on a beach chair. There is no escaping the summer heat now. I’ve already been swimming twice, and I’m drying off with my head tilted toward the sky and my eyes closed. I have a forgotten paperback resting on my legs, but I can’t find the energy to read it. I could fall asleep, but I’ve learned my lesson already this summer.
Luke is sitting beside me, his hand covering mine. He’s let me just be for a while, reading and swimming, but now his fingers lace through mine and he squeezes my hand to get my attention.
I peer over at him to find he’s studying me with one winked eye, trying to block out the sun as best as possible.
“Why were you up so early?”
I decide on brutal honesty. It’s a little late to try to appear normal when I’m far from it. “I think I was having a little pre-dawn panic attack.”
“About us?”
I think about it, and no, out of everything going on, Luke isn’t the thing that worries me. If anything, he’s the one calming presence in all the madness, a safe harbor in the middle of the storm.
“More so about all the change, and the fact that there’s still so much left up in the air. Like, my work, for example. Obviously, I don’t feel comfortable taking a paycheck from you now that we’re dating…”
He looks troubled as he sits up so he can face me, giving me his full attention. “I understand. I mean, the fact is, you do a hell of a lot and you deserve to be compensated for it, but I’ve never been in a situation like this. I don’t know how to handle it in a way that doesn’t feel like a business transaction.”
“Right. Exactly.”
“Do you want to go back to working in a restaurant?”
I’ve tossed the idea around some in recent days, and my answer has remained firm. “No, not really. But I also don’t want to quit working altogether. To be honest, you’ve majorly overpaid me these last few months, and I’ve been saving every penny. I could get away with not working for a little while, especially if I move in with you guys in the city.”
“I can support you in any way you need,” he insists. “You know that, right?”
“I have no doubt that you can, I’m just not sure I want to lean into that setup so soon. To be clear, I’m not with you for your money or your gargantuan house or your fancy car. Though that pizza oven is pretty slick…”
He smiles.
“The whole other part of this dilemma is that I know I’m going to have to be flexible if I’m going to be able to help with Harper as much as you need me to and as much as I want to.” I want to be clear about the last part. I’m not accepting this role out of pity. I’ve fallen in love with his daughter, and I genuinely enjoy being around her. “So even if I wanted to go back, restaurant work wouldn’t really fly anyway. The hours are too erratic.”
He furrows his brows in frustration, probably wondering how in the world I’m going to manage to work and take care of Harper while he travels.
“I’ve actually been thinking…” I’m still slightly embarrassed to voice the idea aloud, but I shouldn’t be. It’s something that really excites me every time I think about it, and beyond that, it’s pretty low stakes. “Maybe I could try to get something going with my bakes out here in the Hamptons…sort of like what we were doing with Harper’s lemonade stand, only a proper business. I don’t want anything too intense. I’m thinking a once-weekly bread drop through the summer months. If word spreads, I think it could be really popular. In the meantime, I could perfect my recipes and whittle down what I want to offer on the menu.”
The longer I talk, the wider his smile spreads. “I think it’s great.”
“Yeah? It’s not silly?”
He looks frustrated that I’d even suggest that. “Silly? Chloe, have you tasted your breads? Those croissants this morning…I ate four. They were insane. Everything you make is amazing.”
His words seem almost unbelievable, and I know why. Miles was always quick to shut down my ideas any time I’d gather the courage to voice them to him. Even though I was supposed to be in charge of the pastry department at Fig & Olive, he insisted on coming up with the menu offerings himself. My ideas were quickly dismissed, even occasionally ridiculed. In that relationship, he was the creative genius, and he wanted to make sure I knew it. I’m reminded once again how different Luke is compared to him.