Page 23 of Secondhand Secrets

“Idea?” Ally’s sole customer now headed for the door, leaving hope that the conversation she’d been eager to rope Emilia into would still happen. “What do you mean?”

“Well, during my brief stint working at the nursery, I got very familiar with your plant pots, and Ally, I think your work is something I can sell.” She did a quick bounce on her heels, the strain in her wide grin begging Ally to reciprocate her excitement.

“I… I mean, sure.” Ally closed her mouth out of fear she’d stumble on yet more words. She wanted to get all giggly over the offer, but just as fast as any joy surfaced, doubt came crashing in. What if Emilia invested a lot of effort, only to sell nothing? “But there are so many potters out there, why mine?”

“Why not yours?” Emilia laughed. “I mean, I’d been planning on asking if you’d make some glazed-heart favors for my wedding—”

“You what?”

Emilia swatted a hand as though the added request were no big deal. For Ally, Emilia’s trust in her to deliver such a personal request, one that would serve as a gift to her guests, meant everything. Probably more than any vague chance to sell her work.

“I know people, Ally.” Emilia lowered her voice, her heavier tone imploring Ally to listen, to give her first offer some genuine thought. And truth was, Emilia did know people. She’d been an L.A. socialite, after all. “The people I’m thinking of own a decor company that specializes in garden pieces. I just might be able to secure a deal to distribute your art on a larger scale, just like I did with Oak Tree.”

A seemingly endless silence stretched out, and Ally stared at Emilia, her jaw loose, and her overly dry throat failing to form words. She was experiencing an artist’s version of a near-death experience, the winding path to where she stood now flooding her brain with memories.

She’d first touched clay in junior high, her preceding time in art school giving her access to lessons from professional potters. She’d learned how to “pull” vessels into shape on a wheel. Had kilns and glazes at her disposal. So despite the huge expense, she’d returned to Harlow determined to save for her own equipment.

Oh, and bless Blaine and Aggie. They’d hatched a plan for her to work at Oak Tree and provided a rent-free studio at the nursery, also allowing her to sell her art through both businesses. This year included the go-ahead to run children’s art classes at the nursery, with Harlow town council onboard, including Ally’s classes in the town’s official summer school holidays program.

“I… ahh…” As much as she wanted to back out, that she couldn’t possibly be good enough, other people had invested in her, and they’d rightfully never let her live down rejecting this offer. “Yeah, okay.”

Emilia gave a high, happy squeak and tapped Ally’s arm with the envelope again. “Right decision. Just leave the rest with me. If things work out how I think they will, let’s just say, your life will change fast.”

As if that wasn’t happening already.

Then again, Emilia didn’t know about last night. About Chip and how things had changed. Fast and forever. Faster than Ally could keep up with. And still, she couldn’t commit to that change being one she wanted.

The tension in her throat forced her to swallow, her eyes strained under the effort to keep focus on Emilia. “Can we talk?”

Emilia’s smile collapsed, and she gave a hurried nod, like she read Ally’s darkening mood. “What’s happened?”

“There’s this boy—”

“Another one?” Emilia slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes moon-shaped with visible embarrassment and regret.

Ally laughed before rolling her eyes, unable to blame Emilia. There had been multiple crushes, and every single one of those a failure.

“I’m sorry”—Emilia lowered her hand—“please, go on.”

Just to punish Emilia, Ally did a half turn and placed her glass down on the small, white table beside her, taking her time to wipe condensation from her fingers. Although the enlarged pause punished her more since she’d have to admit to something she’d never figured she would. “Well, this boy is different. Very different.”

“Oh, you mean the guy from the ball game?” Emilia’s smile grew into a full-scale beam. “Sarah’s brother.”

“You know?”

Emilia chuckled and gave a big and repeated nod. “Even Blaine noticed the energy pinging between you two at the game.”

Cheeks turning hot, Ally veered her gaze, the muscles in her throat still thick and hard to speak through. “Was I that obvious?”

“When aren’t you, Ally?” Emilia held a pause, her words and the ensuing silence prompting Ally to look to her. “You wear your emotions all over that beautiful face of yours, like right now. Why do you look so worried? Chip Overton is one cute guy and, by all accords, nice too.”

A manic energy stirred within Ally, and a derisive laugh shot past her lips. “Because he’s more than just Sarah’s brother, which is bad enough now that we don’t get along. Chip and I grew up together, were even in the same grade at school. Worst still, up until he left, we were best friends.”

Emilia shrugged. “I’m struggling to see the problem here.”

Ally spluttered another sarcastic laugh, thankful she’d lowered her glass. Otherwise, she might have accidentally spat water all over the shop floor. “We were too close. Heck, when we weren’t in school together, he was at my house, and everyone in Harlow would call him my unofficial brother.”

“Oh. Ewww.” Emilia wrinkled her nose. “Wow, yeah, that is awkward.”

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