Page 13 of Falling for You

I jerk my head up. “Huh?”

“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to make things awkward, talking about my dead mother.”

Chuckling, I set my fork down and wash down the sweets with a large drink of coffee. “It’s not okay. I’m the worst when it comes to offering my sympathies and knowing what to say. I’m sorry seems so unoriginal but I have a hard time figuring out how to move forward from conversations.”

Chloe leans forward in her seat, fiddles with the desserts she’s placed portions of onto her place with the tines of her fork before setting it down. When her eyes meet mine, they don’t hold the same sadness they did moments before. There’s a hint of sparkle in the dark irises and it makes my chest expand. “I understand what you mean. It’s difficult and sometimes uncomfortable. So here: My mom was wonderful. I miss her every single day and wish life had turned out differently for her, and me, I suppose, but that’s not a way to live. In the past, I mean. So I appreciate talking about her every now and again. Remembering and thinking of her used to make me sad — and it still sometimes does, but usually it brings me happiness.”

Sitting back, I take her in. I may not have known her mother, but looking at Chloe, listening to the strength she seems to hold, I have a feeling she’s a spitting image of who her mother was.

“Tell me about this salon you want to open up.”

And just like that, I’ve fucked up again. Her eyes fall to the table and shoulders slump.

“Chloe,” I call out to get her attention and when I have it I continue, “just talk about it. Just because they said not now, that doesn’t mean never. If it’s your dream, don’t stop going after it. And don’t take no for an answer.”

“It’s just so disheartening,” she says quietly.

I push The Cookie in her direction and nod my head toward it, hoping she dives in. I’m not disappointed in either her digging into the delicious dessert, or the small smile that curves her lips.

“Don’t let it be. Use that feeling to push yourself. Make them give you a reason and do what you have to do to change things to make it happen.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

I shake my head. “It won’t be.”

She’d just shoveled a huge bite of cookie and ice cream into her mouth so she covers it when she starts giggling. “I like that,” she says after her mouth is empty. “No sugar coating.”

“I’m glad you like it. I tend to tell people like it is and some don’t appreciate it.”

“Why, though? Would people rather you lie to them? Blow smoke up their asses? That’s just crazy.”

I don’t have a response other than smiling.

“Fine. You want to know all about it?”

“I do.”

“Full service salon.”

The corner of my mouth kicks up and I try to wipe the twitch in my lips away with my hand, lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “Like with a happy ending?”

“No, you turd.” She throws a brownie bite at me and I catch it and pop it into my mouth.

“Hey, you were the one who said full service.”

Another sparkle of happiness pops through the dark. Her face tips down, a long lock of deep red hair falls over her shoulder, which starts to shake before she’s laughing so hard a snort slips out. Her head jerks up, eyes wide when she stares at me, hopeful I didn’t hear it. Of course I did, though, because I’m paying attention to everything she does.

“So no happy ending, then. I got it.” I don’t mention the snort but it’s out there and I won’t be able to not tease her about it at some point in the future.

“Well, it’s not as if we would send our clients outunhappy, though. It’s just notthatkind of happy ending.”

“Bummer.”

“Oh, you frequent those?”

“If you were my masseuse? Hell yeah, I would. In fact, I’d probably be your most loyal customer.”

Those deep, dark eyes roll and she takes another bite of The Cookie. I’m glad she’s not a woman who would balk at my idea of feasting on desserts at nine o’clock at night. If anything, she’s embracing it.

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