Page 58 of One Night Stand After Another
Lila leaned into the frame, grinning. “Says the man who bought the company I worked for to get me to help him with a menu. Big talk, Jack.”
Zane laughed, but he couldn’t discount the truth in Jack’s words. “Lila, you’ve done good work with him. This time last year, we both know he wouldn’t have had that kind of insight into women.”
“No kidding,” she said.
Zane crossed his arms. “I refuse to give you the satisfaction of saying you’re right, Jackson. But I’m going to finish this drink and probably order another one, because today really sucked. Then I’m going to sleep it off and make a plan.”
A waiter arrived, bearing a burger that looked so good he almost forgot he was on the phone. A cone of fries joined the burger, and he grabbed several, dragged them through the accompanying sauce, and stuffed them into his mouth. Had he eaten today? Or last night? “This sauce is amazing. It tastes like the love child of charred tomatoes and aioli.” He held it up to show Jack and accidentally poured a big, orange glob on the table. “Oops.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “You are such a lightweight. Are you even going to remember this tomorrow? Because there’s something else I want to tell you.”
He jammed the burger into his mouth and decided every hamburger on earth needed to have kimchi and a fried egg on it. “Probably?”
Jack rolled his eyes and said, “I’ll text you.” He ended the call.
A few minutes later, Zane checked his phone and decided not to order another drink after all.
Chapter Nineteen
Two months later…
“He ruined chocolate for me,” Clara groaned. “I think of him every time I eat it.”
“That’s tragic.” Britt didn’t sound sympathetic.
Clara propped the phone against a stack of books so she’d have both hands free to work.
“How many orders do you have now?” her friend asked.
“Eighty. Enough to keep me crocheting every night for over a month.” And she’d be thinking about Zane with every stitch, damn it, just as she had every day for the last two months. That was a lot of stitches. Millions. “I had to mark them ‘sold out’ on my website.”
“I know—I tried to order a pair.”
“Britt! You know I’ll make you whatever you want.”
“Yes, but I want to buy them. I want to support your business. Kind of like someone else you know.”
“Don’t start.”
Britt snorted. “Have you heard from Zane?”
“I texted him my address, and he sent the yarn. It arrived last month.” Clara glanced up to see her friend shaking her head. “What?”
“You could talk to him, you know.”
“And say what? The smell of yarn turns me on? I can’t eat chocolate in public anymore?”
“Yes!”
“No.”
She’d had plenty of time to regret the things she’d said to Zane during the two months since she’d left him standing on that road in Venice Beach. Hours of apartment hunting. Days of haggling with Jimmy. Weeks of walking on the beach, drawing inspiration from nature, memory, and imagination, and turning it into art. Just as she’d once dreamed—and Zane had somehow known.
She’d also called her mom and confirmed her suspicion that her deep-seated need for following a plan might have been born the night her parents split. Her mother had been more than willing to discuss how her father had refused to accept help when he’d begun to sink into depression. Her mom had needed a fresh start and a new plan, one that would take care of them both. She’d stayed in touch with her ex-husband and continued to encourage him to get help. Eventually, he had, but the damage was done. Their family was broken, and art was firmly in the “bad risk” category for Clara.
It was going to take some time for her to sort out her feelings about the things her mother had revealed, especially her shock at her mother’s wholehearted encouragement of her new artistic adventures.You got all of your father’s talent and all of my practicality. I wanted you to go to college, but I never thought you should abandon art. You’re too talented, honey.Her mother had insisted on making the first purchase on her new online store, and Clara still choked up when she thought of the buyer’s note her mother had left for her.I believe in you.
“I blew it, Britt.”
