Page 19 of Love, Untangled

She stood there for another minute, hoping she was wrong. But as the silence turned from heavy to awkward, Pen admitted that Carlo had dismissed her—and the banter that had been building between them.

The question was—had he dismissed her because she was young and inexperienced, or because he didn’t want her, specifically?

Maybe the ladies would be able to help her tease that one apart.

Chapter 7

Penelope

Penelope second-guessed her trip to town right up until she stood in front of the doors to the café. Warm light spilled through the windows, out onto the sidewalk, while laughter and the rich aroma of baked goods that wafted from the shop tempted her.

Carlo’s displeasure eased from Pen’s mind as she took a deep breath and straightened her skirt, then her spine. She was about to reach for the door when she heard a voice. Turning, she smiled at Joanna Miles, who Birdie had introduced her to last week. The sleek blonde owned Bottles of Bliss, the local wine shop. She was friendly and warm, though today she seemed harried.

“Get the door, would you? I’m afraid the bottom of the box is about to fall through.”

Penelope pushed open the door even as she scooted out of the way. Joanna rushed forward to the nearest table, setting down her box with a grateful grunt.

“I was sure it was going to break.” She laughed, relieved, before she turned toward Penelope. “Thanks. Birdie introduced us last week. You’re the fiber artist. Unfortunately, I remember that—you’re so talented!—but not your name.”

Bashfulness swept over Penelope, making her want to aw-shucks the moment. But she screwed up her courage and smiled, holding out her hand. “Yes. Penelope Davis.”

“She showed me the gorgeous mitten-gloves you made her. The pattern is unreal.” Joanna tucked a piece of hair back even as she half hugged Eva, the café owner, who came up behind her. “Hiya, sweetie. You know Penelope, right? She’s a whiz with yarn.”

Eva nodded, her smile bright. “I saw Birdie’s gloves. They’re beautiful. Do you make other items?”

“Pretty much anything with yarn or felt,” Pen replied. She patted her bulging tote. “The ladies suggested I bring some materials in case you wanted to try.”

“Ooh, yes, me!” Joanna clapped as she jumped up and down. “My mother was an avid knitter but I never had the patience to learn. But now that my friend is having a baby, I want to knit a blanket.” Joanna worried her lip. “Do you think I’ll be able to? She’s due in five months.”

Penelope smiled. “I think we can get you started and well on your way. The good news is that you can always make the blanket bigger over time. You know, as the baby grows.”

“Good point. Want a glass of wine or cider?”

“Erm, no, thanks.”

“Pen here’s too young for alcohol, but you know I want a glass of your rosé,” Trixie said. “You ladies are looking lovely.”

“Do you have many hard ciders?” Pen asked, trying to ignore her flaming cheeks. And also because she wanted to help Carlo with his business, especially after all his help this past week at her farm.

“Not many. I’ve heard that there’s a local guy who’s planning to create a hard cider now that he’s gotten the apple orchard back on track.”

“Yes,” Penelope said. “Carlo di Laurentiis. He’s my neighbor. His apples are delicious.”

Joanna’s expression turned speculative, but what worried Pen was how Hattie and Birdie were eyeing her as they joined Trixie next to the bottles of wine Joanna had been pulling from her box.

“I’ll have to meet with him. I love to showcase local products. They tend to sell really well with the tourists.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“So you and Carlo have been getting along?” Hattie asked. Her gaze was avid, which made Pen want to pull out some yarn and bend her head over her knitting needles or a crochet hook.

“Yes. He’s helped me with a couple of home improvement items…why are you looking at me like that?”

“Ignore them,” Eva said, her tone stern. “These ladies love to play matchmaker.”

“We don’t play at it,” Birdie said. “We make matches. Good ones.”

“Yes, we’re quite good at reading people,” Trixie added. “We have a near-perfect success rate.”

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