Page 12 of Just One Moment

“BestI’veever had.”

Aloud, obnoxious laugh escapes my lips, and beforeIcan slap a hand over my mouth, a snort rips free.Idon’t know how he did it, picking up on my nervousness and making me feel a little more at ease with his joke, but it worked. “You’reteasing me, butI’lllet it slide.”

Hesits back, shoulders more relaxed now. “I’vebeen meaning to speak to you.”

“Youhave?”

Henods. “Thatnight at the bar.Youmentioned about working with the restaurant.Isthat still something you want to do?”

Ohno.Hedidn’t forget about that shameful interaction.

“No, that doesn’t sound like me.Youmust have had one of those weird shotsLennywas serving that night.Wentstraight to your head.”

“Idon’t drink.”

“Well, shoot.”Ilaugh nervously and then sigh. “Itdoesn’t matter, honestly.Itwas stupid of me to even bring it up.”

Hedoesn’t speak for a minute, his face blank as he picks at the label on his bottle.There’ssomething calming about his presence and because of that,Ican’t lie to him.

Myshoulders drop andIbite the bullet. “Idid—dowant to work with the restaurant, but my bookkeeping is a shit show.Withthe new owner and everything else going on,Idon’t want to waste anyone’s time.Maybenext year.”Ishrug, pretending that confession hasn’t chipped away at my already low hopes.

“Icould look over your books.Itis my job.”

AfterJoandItalked the other day,Ilooked up the firmGrahamworks for.Hehas a stellar portfolio, with shining recommendations from a plethora of clients.Irang them, hoping for an estimate, and ended the call almost in tears over the cost of hiring an accountant of his caliber.

Thebakery does well enough, but any pennyImake is either invested or saved for a potential down payment on a mortgage.

Thisconversation is going downhill fast. “Iappreciate that, butIwouldn’t be able to afford it.”

“Oh,Iwouldn’t expect you to pay me,” he offers, sitting up straighter.

Thattwinge of discomfort pulls deep in my chest.Acceptinghelp isn’t a bad thing, yet the sound ofherraspy voice in my head tells me otherwise. “Ican’t let you do that.”

Hispassive expression slips into something like surprise, but his furrowed brows are gone beforeIcan blink.Hepulls his wallet out and passes me a business card.Fancy.“Whydon’t you sleep on it?Ithink teaming up would be a great idea.Ican help with the finances and when you’re ready, we can talk about you working with the restaurant.”

Therectangular card is balanced on my fingertips, andIspot his contact details on there. “Youcould call me, you have my number, right?”I’mnot sure why the idea of him finally using my number excites me.

Heopens his mouth and then clamps it shut, his eyes bouncing around in front of him as he looks for his response. “No.I, um, my sweater rubbed some of the numbers off after you left.Ifyou text the one on the card,I’llsave it in my phone.”

“Oh.Okay, yeah, of course.”Itstings more knowing he didn’t even save it in his phone.Mychair scrapes across the floor asIstand abruptly.Thisembarrassing conversation needs to end.Grahamrises with me and looks as uncomfortable asIfeel, butI’mthe only one to blame for this discomfort.

I’ma people pleaser down to my core andIdesperately want everyone to like me.It’sclear thatGrahamdoesn’t.He’sonly being polite.

“Thanksfor the offer,”Irush out just asMrs.Stewart, one of the town’s council members, walks in with her son.She’squite literally the worst customer to come in and will be complaining about something in approximately five minutes, but her arrival is my escape.Imake a dash for her table, avoiding eye contact withGraham.

Ashe turns to leave, shoulders low, head down,Ifinally take a breath.

Icurse the people in my past life who have left me incapable of accepting help and filling me with this obsessive need to prove my worth.Hewas nothing but nice and any chanceIhad of convincing himI’mnot an impulsive, immature woman starting their own business on a whim has been blown out of the water.

Asthe door shuts behind him and he walks down the street, it feels like my dream of owning this place is a million steps away.

CHAPTER FIVE

graham

Brokenhearts still yearn

Theyneed love more than ever

---