Page 85 of When Fate Breaks
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Any tensionthat existed between Evangeline and me dissolved shortly after arriving at the hardware trade show– mostly out of necessity of us having to work together, but, nevertheless, we were back to normal. As normal as the two of us could get, at least.
We make our way down the many aisles of booths set up throughout the convention center showcasing various types of hardware, tools, and equipment for projects ranging from construction to plumbing to home improvement and so much more (including landscape design). Evangeline manages to hold off on rolling her eyes and yanking me by my flannel sleeve until the fifth time I make her stop and look at one of those. Her and I both know Jacks isn’t in much of a market for gardening supplies, but I can’t help myself. Yes, because they’re my bread and butter; but, I’d be lying if I said the flustered look in Evangeline’s wild eyes and her teeth biting down on her lower lip as a result of our deviation from her precise (yet chaotically scribbled out in the most perfectly Evangeline way) itinerary on her clipboard didn’t bring a smile to my face.
In less than an hour, we manage to check most of the big needs off of Evangeline’s list from her dad, and even manage to find a few extra random cool things to get for the store. Evangeline places an order for 100 starter tool kits with the coming back-to-school season in mind, remembering how the one her dad insisted on her bringing to college freshman year helped her survive through all four years. I manage to talk her into stocking my favorite affordable brand of weed eater and am able to haggle and land her a killer deal with a mulch supplier.
By the early afternoon, we are heading out to the truck to grab carts to load up the handful of miscellaneous stock items we are bringing home today instead of getting bulk shipped directly to Jacks. After getting everything in the truck and coming back inside to make one last lap, we realize we’ve managed to scour the entire place twice over and have gotten more than everything we needed.
“Well, look at us,” Evangeline says, coming to a stop at the end of the last aisle. “We got that done way faster than I anticipated.”
“What can I say? We make a good team, Jacks,” I remark, holding out my fist.
She chuckles, bumping my fist with her own. “We do, don’t we, Di Fazio?” She lets out a sigh, looking around us as if some new and amazing product is suddenly about to jump out at her.
“Evangeline, we’ve looked at everything. Twice. You did your job.”
“I know,” she sighs. “Just checking one last time. Andwedidourjob.” She nudges at my shoulder. “Thank you again for coming with me. I really appreciate it.”
“It was nothing.”
“It absolutely was something.”
“It’s not a big deal–”
“Blake,” Evangeline cuts me off. When I raise my brows, she continues. “Can you ever just shut up and accept praise?”
“Probably not,” I reply honestly.
Evangeline lets out a snort. “Well, I’m going to continue to thank you anyways. Really, if you wouldn’t have come with me I definitely would have been stumbling around these aisles until 5 p.m. like I had planned.” I notice her gaze shift to something over my shoulder, and I register music beginning to play in the distance.
“Well, it looks like we have some time to kill then,” I say, holding up my watch displaying that it’s only 2 p.m.
“Yeah, about that. I think I just found an option.” My brows pinch together momentarily in confusion until Evangeline lifts her chin, motioning behind me.
I spin around to see an area of the convention center that was previously closed off with a curtain. There’s a large wooden structure built into the center of the building, a bar lining the back of it and what seems like a dance floor taking up most of its middle. Wooden tables and old-style jukeboxes round the edges. The music from before continues to get louder until I can clearly hear the country sounds of Alan Jackson and Jimmy Buffet’sIt’s Five O’Clock Somewhereplaying through the speakers. I shake my head, a chuckle coming out of me. Only in Alabama would you find a honkey-tonk bar in the middle of a business convention center fully operational in the middle of the day.
Evangeline comes to stand next to me as we watch several people already filing into the bar and dancing about the space. “Who knew affiliates of the hardware industry knew how to party?”
“I did,” Evangeline says, smiling so big that her freckled nose crinkles. She steps in front of me, nodding her head in the bar’s direction. “Shall we join them? Grab a beer before we head back?”
“Sure,” I say, a small grin playing on my face as I follow after her.
Evangeline gains the attention of a younger male bartender the second she reaches the edge of the bar.Of course she does. “What can I get for you darlin’?” he asks.
“Hi there! I’ll take whatever IPA you have on draft. And he’ll–Wait.” She breaks off, looking from me to the bartender. “Sorry, I–er. Still deciding. Could you give us just a second?”
The bartender looks at both of us like we’re crazy. “Sure thing, darlin’. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Evangeline spins back around to face me.
“What was that about?” I question.
She takes a few side-steps and, when I don’t immediately get the hint to follow her, she grabs me by my forearm and pulls me to her. Her hand stays wrapped around my wrist, her gaze flicking between the tattooed trees on my arm and my eyes, and I can tell she’s nervous about something. “Evangeline, what is it?”
“I just–” she stammers. “Do you… I mean…are you…?”
I tilt my head, pushing her to continue.
