Page 28 of Dream a Little Dream

“A boat? No. I don’t. I still think we need to come up with a few new ideas to get the store back in good financial shape. Every bit helps.”

He waved off the topic and leaned in, clearly on a mission of his own. “Have you seen Harlowe in the store lately?”

I sighed at the mention of Harlowe Tranton, his thirty-six-year-old personal assistant. The whole town knew it was more than just professional between them. Apparently, they’d had a fight the week before, and she wasn’t taking his calls. Likely on purpose; when she went quiet, he threw more money at her. It was a messy situation that I tried to stay clear of. A year prior, he’d tried to make her my assistant manager when she convinced him that she should be calling the shots for one of his businesses. The only problem was she had zero experience. When I threatened to walk, he’d relented and bought her a condo instead.

“Um, it’s been a few days since I’ve seen Harlowe.”

He stared at me with determination. “Did she ask about me?”

“I can’t exactly remember. I don’t think so.”

“She’ll come around.” He leaned in like we were pals. We were not. “She gets all bent out of shape when I show a little attention to other girls. I hired Mandy from the salon to tidy up my place a few times a week, and we like to hang out after. Big deal.”

“Got it,” I said, still hoping to convince him my produce promotion was worthwhile.

“Harlowe will come crawling back. I’ll spoil her a little, buy her something nice, and we’ll be just fine. Just might not tell her the next time Mandy comes over, you know?” He bounced his eyebrows and a part of me died.

“Okay.” I nodded and closed my eyes briefly. “But about the promotion? I know it will be a hit with our customers. Let’s lean into who we are and embrace our charm. Can I proceed?”

“No promotion. We don’t need it. What we do need is for you to sell more groceries. Can you handle that simple task?”

I stared at him, leveled. This man refused to let me do my job, and I was frustrated and angry. “I will certainly try with what few tools I’vebeen given.” My voice was low and even. He didn’t care or notice the change.

“Well, do better than that.” He tapped the doorframe as he passed. “I got a pickleball match in an hour. Tell that guy that was in here earlier not to look so creepy. Customers don’t like it. Maybe he needs a new haircut or something. You’ll figure it out.”

I dug my nails into my palms to keep myself from lashing out in defense of Buster, who was the most wonderful human being, and the best employee this store could have. Faber had no idea about Festive Foods or the fantastic qualities of the people who worked in it.

As I passed Buster sweeping aisle twelve a few minutes later, he grinned and sent me a questioning thumbs-up. He’d been just so excited about a produce promotion. His time to shine.

“No go,” I told him quietly as I passed, feeling as though I’d failed him. “Faber wasn’t a fan.”

He paused mid-sweep. His face fell. “He said no?”

“Yeah,” I said, hating breaking his heart after getting his hopes up. I shouldn’t have even mentioned the project until I’d dealt with Faber. Lesson for next time. Self-recrimination and utter frustration bubbled steadily as I walked, threatening to overflow. Feeling the dam of my emotions threatening to burst, I sought out space to have that moment on my own. Tears burned hot in my eyes, obstructing my vision as I walked quickly to the back of the store, where I was least likely to see many people. Dammit. Leaving the office so soon had been a mistake. Why had I done that? I launched into a full-on retreat, walking faster, hearing the sound of my low heels on the linoleum. I’d worn them today instead of my comfy tennis shoes, hoping to look more professional when I pitched Faber. Dumb. I’d head back, pull my sneakers out of my drawer and— My thoughts were sideswiped when I was hit with the warm smell of freshly fried donuts, the power of which nearly brought me to my sweet, dear knees. I was no amateur and quickly surmised that I was standing eighteen inches from the fan favorites bag from Amazin’ Glazin’. I raised my gaze to the lucky donut owner, only to hijack my poor brain further. Kyle’s bright blue eyes met mine, and yep, my pesky knees lost strength a second time, confirming her presence.

“There you are,” she said. She looked dreamy. Jeans and a white top with cap sleeves. Low heeled brown booties of some kind. I wasn’t cool enough to know the actual name of the style, but smart enough to know they had one.

“Me?” I blinked. Her presence was incredibly soothing and Iresented everything about that, prompting the tears to multiply and spill because I’d apparently lost all control of myself. Just wonderful and not at all embarrassing.

“Oh no. Savanna, what’s wrong?”

That was new. She hadn’t called me Potter. I was Savanna in this very vulnerable moment, and the intimacy made me crumple all the more. “Just one of those days, you know?” A woman walked past eyeing me. Tourist. Maybe I wouldn’t have to see her again.

Kyle set down her donuts and opened her now free arms without hesitation. I immediately moved into them, a cold person to a warm blanket, without considering my actions. When we came together, the world went quiet. It hadn’t been a novelty between us a year ago, or a memory I had exaggerated. The effects when we came together were that powerful, almost like two important pieces of a hard-to-work puzzle. Kyle held on to me firmly, and just for a moment, I allowed the feeling of her holding me to calm my seas. Comfort in the storm. I didn’t want to let go, but I did. I had to. Regrouping, I wiped my face with windshield wiper hands.

“So sorry about that,” I said. “On-the-job hazard.” I heard my words and remembered Kyle’s actual job in an emergency room, where real things went horribly wrong. “I want to take that back. I realize that grocery store stress doesn’t compare to what you and your colleagues must face in an ER.”

“I don’t think there’s a copyright on stress. We all know it when we feel it.” She tilted her head as she watched me. “And yours is every bit as valid as mine or anyone else’s.”

“Do you still work at the same hospital?”

She hesitated as if the answer wasn’t cut and dry. “I finished my residency and am taking some time off to catch my breath before next steps.”

“Good for you, Kyle.” She was smart and driven, and I had zero doubt that she was a fantastic doctor. “And great taste in donuts, too.” Not sure what to do now, I gestured to the front of the store. “I better get back.”

“Right. Of course.” She leapt into motion and retrieved the donuts from the shelf next to us. “But these are for you.”

“Me? Why?”

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