Page 22 of Unlikely You

“What the hell is this?” she asked, stomping over and holding up her phone.

“It’s for the drink last night. I’m really sorry. Again.”

Bren clenched her teeth and if I could have come up with a perfect word for her current expression, it was “seething.”

She was still pissed at me.

Bren opened her mouth as if she was going to give me a tongue lashing but then she snapped her jaw shut and stormed the few feet back to her table.

My first instinct was to go to her and try and smooth things over, but Ellie came up with my matcha and that was all I could see at the moment. Bren might need some time to cool off and the doors were opening in a few seconds. There wasn’t time for us to get into it, and I also didn’t want to distract her from her business. That would only piss her off more.

So I left her alone and did my best to ignore her, which wasn’t an easy task, even with the weekend crowds that acted like they’d never seen honey before.

To be fair, our honey was exceptionally good, if I did say so myself. And then when they heard we had hot honey made with our own organic jalapeños grown on our farm? They were so happy.

One of these days, when I actually had some free time, I was going to write a Holloway Apiary cookbook with some of our favorite recipes using our honey. Mom thought it was a wonderful idea, but it required time. Most of what I made was based on my own instincts and I was very much a “measure with your heart” kind of person, so I’d have to actually sit down and figure out exact measurements.

Someday. I’d get to it someday. I also wanted to do beautiful watercolor illustrations of everything to go with the book. The logo and the labels were all done by me, using a combination of watercolors and graphic design that I’d taught myself using tutorials online. I was pretty proud of the final result and got a lot of compliments on everything, which was so rewarding. I should spend more time doing my watercolor art, but it was hard to get up the energy and find my supplies and even have the mental energy to think about what to paint.

“Yes, they do come in different sizes,” I heard Bren say over the general marketplace noise.

“Would you like some tea? It’s chamomile with our wildflower honey,” I said, holding out a tray to a group of women passing by. They stopped and took the little cups of tea, sipped and said it was good but drifted away when I tried to pitch our honey. One thing you had to get used to as a salesperson: rejection.

I handed the tray to Ellie, because she was much better at luring people toward the table and went to check our cash and make sure we had enough bags.

“Shit!” I heard someone curse and I looked up to find Bren frowning down at her finger.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, fine. Just cut my finger.”

Immediately I reached under our table for the first aid kit. I never went anywhere without having supplies on hand.

Giving Ember a look to get off her ass, I walked over to where Bren was still frowning at her finger and dabbing at it with a napkin.

“Stop that,” I said, surprised at the sharpness in my voice. “Let me see.”

She stared at me. “It’s nothing.” Leaning away from me, I had a momentary thought that she was going to hiss at me like a feral cat with a thorn in its paw.

“Come on, don’t be a baby,” I told her. If she was going to act like a child, I was going to treat her like one. I wasn’t leaving her without getting some antiseptic spray, antibiotic cream, and a band aid on that cut. This woman wasn’t going to die of sepsis on my watch.

Bren sputtered at me, but then she gasped when I just reached out and took her hand.

Carefully, I wiped the small cut with a wipe, and she hissed.

“Sorry. It’s going to sting.”

“You could have warned me,” she grumbled.

I concentrated on cleaning the cut before squeezing a small dollop of antiseptic lotion on a band aid and then winding it around her finger, making sure it wasn’t too tight to cut off her circulation.

“There. All better,” I said, placing a kiss on top of the band aid like I would have done for my siblings. Her gasp made me realize what I’d just done.

“I’m sorry!” I said, dropping her hand and gathering up the supplies with a blush all over my face and chest and probably my entire body. I’d just kissed her boo boo. What the hell was wrong with me?

Bren just continued to stare at me, but I turned away, throwing the first aid kit back under the table and rushing to the bathroom to wash off my hands. And to throw myself in the toilet and try and flush myself away due to humiliation.

Chapter Nine

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