Page 7 of The Charming Checklist
“And what happened toyou?” he deadpanned.
She wasn’t at all offended. In fact, it always instilled a sense of pride in her when anyone asked.
“Right? I’m the furthest thing from a snob. I love this quaint little town and our small business community. Someday, I want to start my own business. But I digress. My family would be extremely impressed with you. I mean, I just read your résumé.”
“Exactly! And you probably weren’t thinking about sleeping with me after you did.”
“Absolutely not.”Before, yes. Now, not so much. “I’m all about that incredible résumé.”
“I’m flattered.”
“So, what do you say, pal?” She elbowed him. “It would be more date practice for you, after all.”
He pulled out his wallet from his inside pocket and slid a few bills on the bar. That single move was solidly sexy, not to mention the move of a man used to paying. A man used to moving through important circles with confidence. Her excitement rose as it did when she’d roasted a particular good batch of coffee beans.
This charade could work.
“They’ll see right through me if they’re as intelligent as you’ve described. I have to say no. But thanks. You’ve given me hope.”
He patted her hand, flashed her a rare smile and then he was gone.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Ava blinked her eyes open and stretched. The morning sunrays gleamed through her blue lace curtains and a warm, salty ocean breeze wafted through the window she’d left cracked open. She was in her cozy bed in her tiny cottage on Monroe Street, about half a mile from the beach. As the cobwebs began to unfurl in her mind, a trickle of a memory rose to the forefront.
Last night was a complete bust.
What did it say about her that she couldn’t even get afakedate with someone like Max Del Toro?
Maybe it says that you’re not ready for permanent, and you’ve just asked a man who’s on the hunt for permanent to join you on a fake date.
With your entire family.
Oh, yeah. She rubbed her eyes. But hey, it had been worth a try. If he wanted to go on more of those service-arranged dates, he was welcome to it. She, however, could probably find the perfect wooden woman for him without even trying. After all, she’d grown up and gone to school with women like her sisters-in-law. Clearly, Max was more like her family than she’d realized. He wanted a Stepford wife. A trophy wife.
Or maybe it was just easier to think that than to believe he’d turned her down based on her looks. Or worse, herpersonality. A little too much wattage to handle all at once. Like she hadn’t heard that one before. Every other day someone told her to “tone it down.” Reminded her that it wasn’t Christmas yet, just another annual Charming town event. Like the Mr. Charming contest, which she’d made into their most successful to date. She couldn’t help that life and new adventures thrilled her and she couldn’t contain her joy at meeting new people and learning new things. These qualities would all come together for her on the day she finally opened up her coffee shop.
The Bean.
Little Beans.
The Magic Bean.
Well, she was still experimenting with names.
Like Max, her family, and everyone who knew her family, wondered where and how everything went wrong with her. The explanation was quite simple.
She was the only daughter and youngest child of three. With two always working professionals for parents, she’d been raised by her nanny. A woman she’d loved like a grandmother. But Lucia Perez had moved back to Colombia when Ava went away to college. She’d received a generous severance and bonus package from her parents for her years of dedicated service. Last Ava had heard Lucia had purchased a home. Ava regularly got a Christmas card and a birthday card from Nanny Lucia. Funny, she never once asked if Ava had achieved an executive-level position yet, or finally decided to go to law or medical school.
Instead, she’d send her a new recipe for roasting beans. New combinations of flavors. She’d ask about her friends, her job, her love life. Remind her that she was loved and perfect just as she was. And Nanny Lucia was the only person who still wrote letters to Ava. She didn’t have or believe in cell phones. Texting thoroughly confused her.
Because of her, Ava still associated the smell and taste of a good cup of coffee with love. With warmth and acceptance. They used to spend hours roasting beans for the family. Ava hadn’t been allowed to drink her first cup, of course, until she was fourteen. Then, a long love affair began.
Ava rolled out of bed, the beans calling her name. It was always best not to formulate full thoughts, not to mention sentences, before her first cup. Today was one of her favorite days of the week. Roasting beans day. She had a new bag of green coffee beans from a Colombian farmer through Lucia’s connections. But for now, she pulled out her sealed roasted coffee bean bag and took out her grinder. Making a batch small enough for two, she then took out her French press. There was no point in going through all this trouble to put her beans through apercolator.
Quickly showering, then throwing on a T-shirt and jeans, she crossed the shared lawn to her favorite neighbor Susannah’s home. From inside, she could hear her cockapoo mix, Doodle, giving his best impression of a menacing home protector.Yip, yip, yip.Yeah, not even close.
The minute the door opened and Ava walked inside, Doodle predictably rolled over on his back.
