Page 33 of No Place Like Home
Delia pointed to the computer in front of Mrs. Peters, completely unaware of the gun she’d fired. “Can you be a dear and let me know if you have a certain title in stock?”
“Probably notIf You Give a Mouse a Cookie.” Cade looked hopefully at Mrs. Peters.
Nope. Zero reaction.
“I’ll find it, Delia.” Harper eased over to the keyboard, sending Cade a sympathetic smile. Well, that was something. “Which title was it?”
Rosalyn turned curious eyes to Cade as the chatting continued , lowering her voice. “You’ve been to my performances?”
“One.” He couldn’t lie to her. Even though it wasn’t a memory he’d ever hoped to relay.
“Why didn’t you say anything? ” Confusion pinched her brow. “Which show?”
Cade opened his mouth, then closed it. There was no un-mortifying way to admit he couldn’t stop thinking about that night at the Lazy Spoon, couldn’t silence all the what-ifs that had mocked him ever since. So about three months ago, he’d found a ticket to a show in Dallas, drove through the night, bought her flowers, and hung around backstage afterward…only to see her run into the eager arms of another guy. After that, Cade had done what any decent man would do.
Ditched the flowers, bolted for his Audi, and pretended like it never happened.
He met Rosalyn’s eyes, wide and still waiting for an answer. “It was a while ago…” Awkward. And why did the memory burn his cheeks as if it’d been last week instead of months ago? Of course, seeing her perform was what had given him the idea to host the circus in the first place, so maybe it hadn’t been a total flub.
Mrs. Peters slid a black and white flyer across the desk to Cade. “Here’s the list of requirements our boothmusthave. Harper knows the rest.”
Saved. “Yes, ma’am.” He scooped up the piece of paper and backed away from the counter. “Thank you, Mrs. Peters. And I really do likeIf You Give a Mouse a Cookie, for the record. If that helps.”
She squinted at him over her glasses. “Well, it doesn’t help as much as prime booth placement at the festival…”
Well played. He nodded. “Yes ma’am.” Then he took a deep breath and looked back at Rosalyn, fighting the rush of anxiety creeping up his chest “I’m going to head to the office—got those calls to make.” So many calls. So many things to do. “You coming back?”
She tilted her head, debating. Not that he wanted her to re-ask the question he’d avoided, but he did enjoy her company while she highlighted spreadsheets. Laughed at his jokes. Made him forget how hectic his life was.
But why did it seem like she was trying to decide something more than afternoon plans?
“Why don’t you hang out here?” Harper scooted a book out of the way to brace both arms on the counter. She smiled at Rosalyn. “My break is soon. We can catch up.”
Rosalyn’s gaze lingered slightly on Cade before she returned Harper’s smile. “That sounds good. Then I probably should get to Madame Paulette’s and test my knee further on the silks.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “That doesn’t throw off your plans, does it?”
Yes. “No, of course not.” After all, hopes were not plans. Cade ignored the disappointment coursing through his chest and found his movie star smile. “You girls have fun.” Same story as always—Rosalyn’s “friends” telling her what to do, what to think.
Who to date.
Whonotto date.
Amber’s voice rang in his ears as he backstepped toward the automatic doors.Guys are losers, Rosalyn. Especially Cade Landry. He’s a spoiled brat—only as good as his father’s reputation and money.Had Harper been present for Amber’s declaration that afternoon in study hall too? He couldn’t remember.
Now both women stared at him from the counter, like twin ghosts from the past.
Time to get out of there. “I’ll—uh, see you later, then?” He shot Rosalyn an awkward thumbs-up as he continued walking backward. Oh man. That was lame.
Harper winced. Mrs. Peters shook her head with atsk, and even Delia turned away as if she couldn’t bear to watch. Rosalyn returned his thumbs-up with an overly dramatic one of her own. “Uh, sure.”
“Great.” He bumped into the door frame as the door whooshed open. “Oops. Okay, bye.”
“Poor kid. He’s got it bad.” Delia’s whisper carried.
He almost tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and caught himself.Wasthat why? He couldn’t out-walk the thought as the doors shut behind him, blocking the rush of AC and what had to be more whispering.
What was wrong with him? He squared his shoulders as he continued across the library courtyard, pausing a beat to straighten the cuff of his sleeve. He was a Landry. Charming. Likable. Smooth.
In front of everyone but Rosalyn, apparently.
