Page 10 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes
This time, Daisy was the one to falter. Her thumbs hooked into the loop of her apron tie, tugging anxiously at the knot.
“You remember that? Well, plans change. Some bridges go up in flames, others get icy when wet. After the accident, the cafe fell on me, so things just kind of worked out this way.”
Pity filled Candace’s eyes. It made Daisy uncomfortable, reminding her that shewaspitiable. In a rush, she added, “Plus, my parents put their hearts and souls into this place. I could never forgive myself if I shut it down. Might not be my choicesooner rather than later, but I’ll keep the lights on as long as I can.”
“Oh? Have things been difficult in the bagel business?” Stumbling, Candace backtracked. “I’m sorry. If you’d rather not say—”
Daisy let loose a snort. She panned a hand around the dingy cafe space, saying, “I think this speaks for itself. Once the fun pier opened up its own breakfast options, offering discounts with ride purchases and points for season ticket holders, my numbers never recovered. Every year I manage to stay open is a surprise.”
Candace gasped.
“That’s criminal! The food on the fun pier is gross, processed, over-portioned crap bursting with grease and high fructose corn syrup. Your bagel bombs are better by miles!”
“Hm? I don’t remember you ever buying my bombs.”
Again, Candace’s face shifted to that adorable ‘you’ve caught me’ look. She fished for an excuse and mumbled something about friends ordering. “I enjoyed them in passing, once or twice. But it’s been a long time.”
Biting her tongue was the only way Daisy did not break out into a full grin. She always knew that Candace Perry was a secret customer. The confirmation was beyond satisfaction, closer to catharsis.
With a forced air of cool, Daisy crossed her arms. “You’re damn right. My bagels are fucking delicious, so I’m not giving up without a fight. Where else could someone get their fix of pimento, creme brulee, Nashville hot chicken, or—”
“Or peanut butter and jelly?”
Candace pointed to the neat placard inside the refrigerated display as she spoke. Her face was impassive, like she was asking about the weather. Even so, there was something in her eyes, a glimmer, that spoke of summers’ past. There was something else, too; unmistakable against her bright clothes, a crimson flush flooded her winter-washed skin.
Was sheflirtingwith Daisy? Overbagels?
Impossible.
Did Candace even admit that she was attracted to women these days? For her part, Daisy had no intention of flirting with the woman before her. Regardless of how nice (or attractive) Candace was at present, she hurt Daisy. Maybe that was why Daisy wanted to tease her now. She braced herself against the countertop and arched over Candace’s seat so the woman would be forced to meet her eye.
“Yeah,” she answered in a low rumble. “I’ve got that. Want a sample?”
Candace squirmed under Daisy’s shadow. She swallowed hard, and her mouth bobbed with an inaudible response.
“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.”
The flush crept further up Candace’s neck, all the way to her ears.
“I—”
RIIIING
“I—”
RING RIIIIIING
Eyebrow cocked, Daisy asked, “You gonna get that?”
“Oh, um…” Fumbling, Candace withdrew her blaring phone from the expensive clutch looped over one shoulder. Disappointment mixed with dread morphed her features once she read the caller ID. Finally, resignation.
Daisy guessed, “Uncle Moneybags?”
Tight-lipped, Candace nodded. “I need to take this. Can I… I mean, would it be alright, if—”
“Here.” Daisy tossed Candace a baggie with one peanut butter and jelly bagel bomb. “You’ll have to eat it cold. Let me know if it’s as good as you remember.”
“… I will.”
