Page 6 of Quintessentially

“Coming and going,” I mumble.

Crouching down, I begin to remove the jarred candles from the box and line them up on the shelf before Quintessential Treasures opens at ten a.m. I have plenty of time, but stocking shelves isn’t my only responsibility.

“Kandi,” Chloe prompts.

If she wasn’t my best friend, I wouldn’t or couldn’t be as honest. We’ve known one another most of our lives. She knows my secrets and I know hers.

Looking up, I take in her petite frame, her dark curly hair cut in a short bob, and her questioning stare as I shrug my response. “I don’t know for sure when he’s supposed to arrive. Mr. Murphy, Ruth’s attorney, said the sale can’t be completed until the executor signs off. At first, even Mr. Murphy wasn’t telling me the name of the executor.” I push a candle toward the back of the shelf, bringing the older ones to the front. “Why isn’t it Dax’s dad?”

Chloe smiles. “Ruth got you.” She laughs. “That sweet old lady is playing matchmaker from heaven.”

Standing, I brush the dust from the packaging off my hands and blue jeans. “She didn’tgetme. She respected my wishes while she was alive.”

Chloe nods. “She did. That’s why she’s in heaven. However, you know she had this planned.”

“What? Do you think Ruth thought, Hey, I should die and let fate work out the rest?”

“No, she knew her obligation to keep her word had a statute of limitations.”

“Oh, so she surmised that when I see Dax again, I’ll get all sentimental, or will I be hot and bothered?” I shake my head. “Or maybe when Dax sees me, he’ll remember that one time long ago when he used the L word, the night before he got in his car and drove away forever?”

“Ruth believed in the impossible.”

“Impossible is an understatement.” I survey the store, looking for anything that needs to be restocked before I turn the sign and unlock the front door. The sidewalks are filling with patrons from near and far, people passing by the windows. “I don’t need Dax; I’ve done well without him.”

Chloe just looks at me.

I reach for my friend’s hand. “I have you.”

Her lips come together. “Not the same. I mean, I love you…”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. He never wanted a life here. Right now, I just want to keep the store running.” I take a deep breath, surveying the boxes. “Thank you for your help.” My gaze goes to the candles still in the box at my feet. They are handmade by a farmer about fifty miles away with beeswax and added scents. They’re one of the hot items here at Quintessential Treasures as well as a slew of other locally produced merchandise. This was John and Ruth’s vision, to create a place where local people could sell their wares and buy products made by their neighbors.

Chloe leans against the shelves and crosses her arms over her chest.

I know that look she’s giving me.

“It doesn’t matter?” she asks.

My blue gaze meets Chloe’s light brown one. “I mean, it’s inconsequential. What matters is that I loved John and Ruth. They were quintessentially great people, and because of them, I love this store. I’m the right person to keep Quintessential Treasures running. Hell, I can finally do what I couldn’t convince Ruth to do—take this baby online. Ruth knew that I’m capable of not only keeping this store going, but bringing it into present day. The executor just needs to sign the paperwork and go back to his big job and happy life in Chicago.”

“His name is Dax. Daxton Richards.” Her eyes open wide. “And you know where he works?”

I know his name. I’m purposely avoiding saying it.

“Ruth mentioned it,” I reply with a shrug. “His name was in her address book when I helped contact people for the funeral” I sigh. “I miss her.”

Ruth and John started this store long before I was born. It’s not that I want to go down memory lane. No, that route will take me back to the summers long ago when Dax visited his grandparents.

Over the years, he changed from an awkward kid into a handsome teenager and then into a hot-as-hell man. That was true six years ago. I’m not ready to find out where he now stands on the sexy scale. Truth is, I’ve changed over time too. The last time I saw Dax was the summer before his senior year at Indiana University. He had big plans that included law and business school. Those future plans never sounded as if they included me or anyone for that matter.

“Who contacted him for the funeral?” Chloe asks. “Was he contacted?”

“Yes, but not by me.” My stomach twists at the memory of seeing his name penned in Ruth’s handwriting. “He was out of the country. That’s why he wasn’t here.”

“I wondered. His parents were here.”

I nod. “They said hi.”

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