Page 38 of Book and Ladder
“Still salty?” Winona asks.
“Salty?”
“About the scholarship contest all those years ago.”
“I’m not salty. I just … learned my lesson.”
“People change, Daisy,” Winona says wistfully.
“Maybe,” I concede.
People do change. Do I think Patrick has changed? The jury is definitely out. But I’d bet the whole shop that, given the chance, he’d side with his family and sell me out all over again.
“I bet Patrick can kiss,” Winona says dreamily.
Effie laughs, shaking her head in amusement.
“He’s human. Humans can kiss,” I say.
I pile on the sarcasm, hoping they don’t notice how quickly my pulse tripped the moment Winona mentioned Patrick and kissing. What is wrong with me?
“You know what I mean, Daisy,” Winona says with a note of exasperation. “I mean the man can kiss in a way you’ll never forget.”
“How would you know that from just looking at him?” I ask. “And why are we even discussing this?”
“He just gives off that good-kisser energy,” she says, dreamily.
“So date him,” I say.
But the thought of them dating doesn’t sit right with me at all. Not that I get to choose who my friends date. Just … Winona and Patrick? No. Not a match.
And, as if she were reading my mind, Winona says, “Not my type.”
“You only date bad kissers?” I tease.
Winona pauses and looks up at the ceiling as if she’s recounting all the dates she ever went on. Then she looks me in the eyes and says, “Actually, so far? Yes.”
We burst into laughter, Effie’s laughing too. It feels so freeing after the past week full of way too much Patrick O’Connell in my life.
Despite my long week—the false alarm and the big event today—I have to stick around the shop after closing to wait for my date. It’s Friday and I told Franklin I’d be glad to go to supper with him tonight.
Franklin shows up in a mid-size BMW. I’m watching through the shop window as he parks out front and rounds the car. I open the door and step onto the porch, turning to lock the door behind me.
Franklin slows, raising his hand in a wave. I walk toward the passenger seat, but my footsteps slow when I see …
Is someone in the passenger seat?
I blink and refocus.
Is this even Franklin?
It has to be.
“Hey, Daisy!”
Okay, yes. It’s Franklin.
“I hope you don’t mind. My mom was so excited for our date, I invited her to join us.”
