Coming Home to Seashell Harbor, page 16
“Gran, are you crying?”
She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “When you get older, people want to take responsibility away from you because they think that’s what’s best. I can’t tell you how wonderful it feels to have someone treat me like an adult.”
“I just know how much you love the dogs.”
“You love them, too, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Hadley said. “Of course.”
“Well, I hope you understand when I tell you that as much as I love them, I’m ready to start a new chapter in my life that’s about more than just working.”
Wait. What? “Gran, are you…have you decided to retire?”
Her grandmother sighed. “This little fall of mine was a bit of a wake-up call. It made me think about the things I want to do that I’ve never done. Like travel. Sleep in. Binge-watch TV shows. Sit out in my garden at noon and watch the sun sparkle on the water. Spend time with my great-grandchildren.”
“You don’t have great-grandchildren.”
“Well, I might one day. You never know.” She reached over for Hadley’s hand. “I want you to know I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me. But now you’ve got to decide where your heart is. Because I’ve got to decide what to do with my business.”
Now Hadley’s vision was blurring. “I understand.” At least, she was trying to. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around her grandmother not being inside Pooch Palace, with the dogs. With her.
“I want you to think on what you’ve started here and about what your next steps would be. I just hate the thought of you and Cam fighting. I was sort of hoping you two would find one another again.”
“Well, we’re trying to be friendly. But Cam’s not interested in a relationship. I mean, I’m not interested either,” she rushed to add. “It’s probably not a good idea to try and relive the past. Especially after our history.”
“You both needed to grow up and see the world. So you did. And miraculously, you’ve both ended up in the same place again. Now you have an opportunity to get to know each other again. That’s not reliving the past. It’s getting to know each other as adults.” She seemed to think carefully before adding, “I just want you to be happy, whether you decide to go back to California or stay. I want you to live without regrets, whatever that means for you.”
Hadley had never been more confused. She’d worked so hard to achieve success. She’d made so many sacrifices—of time, of hard work, of pouring her entire self into achieving success.
That’s what it had taken to rise to the top of her field.
To slow down her life and relocate to start a nonprofit from scratch seemed incredibly risky, even foolhardy.
That’s what her brain said. But her heart…
Her grandmother rose slowly and carefully and stretched. “I think I’ll go try some ice cream.” She glanced across the grassy aisle to where Paul was passing out treats. “While you sit here and stare at Tony.”
“Gran!”
“Yes?”
“That’s unfair. I’m not staring at him. I’m just…hungry. For…um…pretzel balls.” Right.
“Oh, okay. But just to let you know, he’s been staring at you, too, when you’re not looking.”
Kit returned, Ollie in one arm, a plate of pretzel balls in the other. “Here you go, everybody.” She held the plate out so everyone could take one. “I’m going to have such a great night out next week. This was totally worth it.”
“Ha-ha,” Hadley said.
“This is excellent,” Gran said.
“Mommy, I want one.” Ollie reached out his hand.
“I think you’ve had enough junk food for today, Oliver Wendell.”
“Please.” He clapped his little hands together. “Just a teeny one. Okay, Mommy?”
“Just one,” Kit said.
They all ate while silently watching Cam commandeer the crowd. He shook hands. He autographed old programs, baseball caps, and even a football.
“If he signs that woman’s boobs, I’m leaving,” Mayellen said as she joined them.
Kit’s eyes went wide. “Do women ask him to do that?”
“I’m sure they do.” Hadley tried to look away. She recognized the woman in question as someone from high school, Mabel Martin, who’d always had a crush on Cam. Hadley hadn’t seen her since shortly after Hadley’s breakup with Cam. Mabel had wasted no time telling her that she and Cam had slept together. The memory still made Hadley wince.
Just then, Cam looked over and waved. They all waved back. Except Hadley, who was still a little stunned.
“I knew he was too classy to sign those boobs,” Mayellen said. “He’s still our Cam.”
“He’s drawing a crowd and they all love him,” Gran said.
“But didn’t you say you found homes for two dogs?” Kit asked. “You’re doing well too.”
“It’s not enough,” Hadley said. “Can’t we give something away for free?”
“Like a dog?” Kit asked. “You’re already doing that.”
“I want a dog.” Ollie put his hands on Kit’s cheeks to get her attention, getting blue cotton candy all over her face. “Please, Mommy! Get us a doggie.”
“Rex is our doggie. We don’t need two.” She grabbed the plate from Hadley. “Have another pretzel ball.”
“Nice,” Hadley said, catching Kit’s eye.
Cam’s dad walked up with a ginormous platter of pretzel balls. “Hello, ladies,” he said, handing the platter to Mayellen. “Compliments of our chef, Lucy.”
“More pretzel balls and a babysitter,” Kit said, scoring one. “Thanks, Mr. C.”
“Maddy, you’re looking amazing,” Mr. Cammareri said. He smiled at Hadley. “How are you doing, sweetheart? I heard you’re finding homes for those dogs.”
“Two so far today,” she said. She used to be a fixture around the Cammareri house, and she’d always thought the world of Cam’s dad.
“I just wanted to say hi. And to tell you that my son is strong-willed because of our Italian heritage. But underneath that he’s soft as a baby’s bottom.”
Hadley laughed. Mostly at what Cam would have thought if he’d heard that.
“You should have one, May.” He flashed a smile that looked almost as charming as his son’s.
“It’s not good for my figure.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m always trying to lose five pounds.”
“Oh,” he deadpanned. “I was just going to say I thought you needed to gain five pounds.”
Mayellen laughed and waved him off. “Bless your heart.”
“I better get back. Nice to see you, honey,” he said to Hadley. He gave a nod in Mayellen’s direction. “May, wonderful to see you too.”
“Thanks for the pretzel balls, Mr. C,” Hadley said as he waved and made his way back across the aisle. Hmm. Interesting. “Mayellen, is there anything going on between you and—”
“Hush, not a thing,” she said hurriedly, suddenly very interested in selecting a pretzel ball.
“You’re blushing,” Gran said pointedly.
“I am not,” she said adamantly. “It’s just the heat.” Suddenly she pointed across the way. “Will you take a look at that.”
Sure enough, there was Cam, chatting up Mayor Chaudhry, surrounded by all six members of the town council, all of whom were eating pretzel balls and drinking craft beer.
Frustration rolled through Hadley. They’d agreed to play fair. But this…
The mayor would campaign hard for something like a restaurant that brought a lot of business downtown, hands down. Plus Gran had said the mayor, while polite, might still be a little miffed about Gran almost losing her dog.
She had to do something.
“That does it,” Hadley said. “I’m going over there.”
Chapter 16
Cam was handing out craft beer samples and postcards to what seemed like half the town. A line of people snaked before him far down the grassy main aisle of the festival, almost to the big fountain in the park. And he couldn’t pour fast enough. “It’s a local IPA,” he said as he lined sample cups up on the table in front of him. “It’s got a hint of citrus, so it’s really refreshing, and it’s light and crisp. What do you think?” He kept working the crowd, saying hi to everyone he knew and posing for about a thousand selfies.
He had to admit, it was kind of fun. The low profile he’d kept since his injury had kept him away from what he loved best…talking with people. His people, neighbors and friends, all of whom had the same town pride that he did.
“My restaurant is going to serve great beer and great food,” he said to the council members. “It’s going to bring a ton of people downtown.”
“I’m excited for the possibilities,” the mayor said. “Now we just have to get Maddy on board.”
“Why do I have the feeling that getting Maddy on board means getting Hadley on board?” Nick, who’d been helping him out, asked in a low voice.
“Right.” Cam hoped his tone didn’t indicate how impossible that seemed. He’d stepped back to try to let Hadley and her grandma work this out. He wasn’t one to pressure, even if he had just signed a contract with the restaurant executives for the branding and naming of the restaurant chain. Now his butt was really on the line.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was Ian. “Hey, Cam. I’m just calling to give you a heads-up. The LA execs wanted to send some reporters over to your local festival today to drum up some interest in the new venture. It would just involve taking some photos at your booth, maybe giving a general statement about the restaurant. Sound okay?”
“Sure, thanks, Ian. I’ll look out for them.”
“Uh-oh.” Nick gestured with his head just as Cam hung up. “Here comes Hadley. And she looks like she’s definitely not on board.”
Cam looked up suddenly to see Hadley standing there. “Want one?” Cam waved his hand over the carefully lined-up beer samples, wishing she wasn’t looking at him like he’d just robbed the bank. He wanted to tell her how excited everyone was about the beer and pretzels. And about his restaurant. But of course he couldn’t.
It took less than a second to see that she was, indeed, royally angry. She stood there, fidgeting a little, doing this nervous thing with her hands she always did when she was mad, and frowning deeply. Yep, he was in deep trouble.
“No thanks.” Her voice was whisper-low but sharp. “I’m here to ask you to please stop glad-handing influencers.”
“Influencers?” He looked around, half expecting to see young fashion icons with huge Instagram followings modeling expensive clothing. But, no, it was just everyone they knew eating and drinking and having fun. She pointed toward the mayor, who was across the aisle visiting with the pie ladies, a few members of the town council by her side. “Oh, you mean the mayor? I just handed her a beer.”
“Exactly.” She crossed her arms. “You’re schmoozing the town council.”
Cam leaned in. Unfortunately, doing so gave him a whiff of her scent, summery, fresh, ocean-breezy, and it threw him. “You’re forgetting your grandma holds the keys to the front door.” He tried to sound firm, but inside his emotions were everywhere. He loved seeing her. He hated that they were fighting, hated more that he’d started driving along this road and couldn’t find a way to exit.
And even worse, it was getting harder and harder to fight his crazy impulses. Like the one he was having right now to reach out and kiss her frown away. He used to have the power to do just that. Crack a dumb joke, say something to make her blush, and nine times out of ten she’d abandon her bad mood and laugh.
Wait. What was he doing? He was supposed to stay safely on the other side of this chalk line they’d drawn between them. But he kept dangling his toes over into her territory.
“Look, Hadley,” he said, giving a smile and a wave to the people gathering in line behind her. “I intend to give every single person who passes by here a sip of beer and one of my sister’s outstanding pretzel balls and tell them about my restaurant because my strategy is winning. You’re welcome to employ your own strategy.”
She planted her feet in a stance that clearly signaled he should back down or else. “My strategy doesn’t involve political bribery.”
His anger flared. Instead of backing down, he went ahead and threw gas on the fire. “Yeah, well, you were apparently entertaining the vet school over there.”
She tossed him a you idiot look. Which he deserved. But he still couldn’t help egging her on.
“That was strictly business,” she snapped back. “Fuller was giving me suggestions.”
“And he was holding your hand for, like, three minutes.”
She gestured in frustration. “What has that got to do with anything?”
“Right. Single and holding hands and checking out your butt.” He was really burying himself. “I saw him.”
“I thought you said he was checking out my boobs.”
“Those too.”
“You couldn’t possibly be upset because I was talking to a vet about spaying and neutering animals?”
“See?” He jabbed a finger into the air. “You were talking about sex.”
Hadley was fired up and in his face. “At least I wasn’t handing out beer samples to women who were asking you to autograph their boobs.” She poked his chest. “Or to certain women that you slept with after we broke up.”
“What are you talking about?” Had she gone mad?
“You mean who. Mabel Martin.”
“Mabel? I never slept with her.” He waved his hands in exasperation.
Hadley snorted. “She told me you did.”
“You’ll believe anybody, won’t you?” he said. “You’d take any dog, and you’d take anyone at their word. Except me, apparently.”
“People have to earn my trust,” she snapped.
“Hey, you two.” Nick walked over. “Take the lovers’ quarrel into the bedroom.” He chuckled and dropped his voice, hanging his arms over each of their shoulders. “And you might want to be careful. You never know when someone’s going to press the record button on their phone, if you know what I mean.”
Cam lowered his voice. “Let’s face it, a nonprofit versus a restaurant…it’s not the same.” He held up an imaginary ball in each hand and pretended to balance them.
He was being an ass. He knew it. But he had to find a way to win his case. Now that he’d signed that contract, his reputation depended on it.
“As far as income maybe,” she said firmly, crossing her arms. “But not for value.” She leveled her gaze on him. “Pets have value. Besides, there is no restaurant. Not yet.”
“But there will be.” They were head-to-head now, the decibels increasing. A few heads were turning. But he couldn’t seem to stop.
“This is about more than just profits,” she said.
“Is it really?” he said with a sigh. “A restaurant would bring people downtown and then they’d stay there, fill their stomachs with some great food and then shop around. It’s hard for me to see that a nonprofit would do the same things for our town.”
“Success is measured by more than profit margin, Cam. We need an animal rescue. It fosters community. Your restaurant will bring noise, congestion, and car traffic, not to mention parking nightmares to the middle of town, a place where everyone walks. I can’t imagine why any of that would be a good thing.”
“That can all be worked out.” But secretly, he wondered if it could. He knew how much he needed this restaurant. He knew how much his good name depended on following through with the contract he’d signed. And he wished she would back down but it seemed she’d only gotten more conviction.
One thing he knew was certain—whoever won, it was going to make them enemies forever. Could he really stomach that? The sick feeling that simmered in the pit of his own stomach seemed to answer that question.
“I’ve got to get back to my booth.” She sounded as miserable as he felt.
A familiar bark had them turning their heads. Across the aisle at the Pooch Palace booth, Jagger had jumped up on the plastic fencing and was staring at them from across the aisle. He was excitedly barking and pawing at the fence.
“While we’re…discussing things”—Cam ignored the fact that a crowd had gathered from the commotion they’d created—“I want you to know that I think Jagger is a great dog. I’ve decided I want to give him a home.” Across the way, Jagger was now jumping and barking himself into a frenzy while Hadley’s grandmother and Kit tried to calm him.
“Jagger is my dog,” Hadley said. “It’s obvious that he’s attached to me. I’m his person.”
Well, that didn’t go well either.
“I love him too.” Cam planted his feet solidly on the ground, staring her down. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered—no, he knew—that they had somehow chosen to argue over buildings and dogs instead of address more important things between them. Yet blind frustration pushed that thought away.
She threw up her hands. “Now you’re arguing just to argue with me.”
A panicked scream broke through their heated words and made them both turn. The pie booth next door was in an uproar, the volunteers standing up, exclaiming, chairs tipping, people scattering.
They stopped squabbling and rushed over together to help, coming to a halt in front of the booth, only to find Jagger on his hind legs inhaling a pie.
“Jagger, no!” Hadley commanded as she fought through the crowd, which had devolved into laughter. “Down, boy!” she said as they approached the booth. Jagger stood across from them, the pie table between them.
The dog, hearing his name, made eye contact and tilted his head to the side, as if considering whether or not to behave.
“There. He’s going to listen,” Hadley said.
But Jagger, apparently choosing to follow the advice of the little devil on his shoulder instead of the angel, promptly returned to sucking down the pie, plunging his entire face into it with gusto.
“I think he likes the coconut cream,” Cam said.
“And the strawberry,” Hadley said in dismay. “And the blackberry.”
