Page 39 of Objection to Love

“Ice cream.”

“Easy enough. I’ll grab some from the store on my way home.”

“No can do, September. I’m thinking more along the lines of that little shop in downtown Greenbank.”

Em shifted the phone so it was sandwiched between her ear and shoulder while she quickly typed the name of the shop into Google. “That place closes at eight-thirty.”

“Better hurry then.” Em could hear the entertainment in his voice.

She sighed. “Text me what you want.” And she gave him her phone number, writing his down from the caller ID and thinking it seemed weird that they hadn’t done this before. But, really, they’d only hung out once.

Then, hanging up, she grabbed her purse and briefcase, collecting all the files she would need over the weekend. Quickly, she made for the door, waving to the janitor on her way out.

By the time she reached the shop in Greenbank, it was 7:53, and Garrett still hadn’t texted her. Not wanting to wait around inside for him to give her his order, she called him.

“Hello?”

“What ice cream do you want? You never texted, and don’t expect me to pick for you. I’m horrible at that sort of thing.”

“That could be another relationship analogy. How we think we know what’s best for someone, but really all we needed to do was ask. And, come to think of it—”

“Garrett, they close soon. What do you want?”

“Come inside, and I’ll tell you.”

“Come—” Em looked up and saw him waving at her from an inside booth. She’d been duped.

She locked the car while crossing the sidewalk into the little store. It was set up to look like an old 50s diner, and Em couldn’t be sure ithadn’tbeen around since the 50s. The older gentleman wiping down the checkout counter who glanced up when she came in and hollered a welcome certainly looked like he’d been around since that decade.

She smiled at the man, then turned narrowed eyes on Garrett as she stalked over to stand at the head of his booth.

“You didn’t mention you’d be meeting me here.”

“Oh? Didn’t I?”

“You made me run all the way down here to get you ice cream when you planned to come yourself?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll still let you get me ice cream.” Her expression must have been murderous because he started his usual chuckling. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to get you away from work. You work too much. Plus youdidbreach our contract. Recompense was necessary.”

Em rolled her eyes but slid into the booth across from him, recognizing when she’d been beat. She ignored Garrett’s smile of triumph.

“So, what would you like?”

“Let’s go up to the counter together, and we can pick.”

Em followed him to the front of the store. There were only three other people in the shop besides Em, Garrett, and the elderly gentleman who was waiting for them at the counter. A couple was cozied up on one side of a booth, seemingly oblivious to anything, including their melting ice cream. Two booths down from them was a woman who appeared to be college-aged, sitting at a table with her laptop open and an empty milkshake glass in front of her.

“I think I’ll have a chocolate peanut butter sundae, please,” Garrett told the clerk, then looked at Em with raised eyebrows.

She scanned the menu for a moment. “Just a scoop of raspberry with dark chocolate chips.”

“You know dark chocolate is gross, don’t you?” Garrett whispered to her.

She turned to see his mouth struggling to remain in a serious expression. “I’m really beginning to question your judgment,” she replied, pulling her wallet out of her purse.

But by the time she extracted her credit card, Garrett had already handed cash to the man. He met her questioning look with a shrug. “You didn’t think I would actually make you buy me ice cream, did you?”

The clerk handed her her ice cream and turned back to make Garrett’s sundae.

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