Honey on Your Mind (9 page)

Suddenly I wanted to talk to Jake. I also felt like giving Paige a hug but decided otherwise. I didn’t want her to think I felt sorry for her or that there was anything wrong with being single, or with her not
wanting
to be single. She was smart and kind and funny. She would find someone who deserved her eventually, wouldn’t she?

I wished I knew for sure.

I stood up from the barstool. “I’ll be right back, OK?”

She nodded, and I walked to a quiet part of the lobby. I pulled out my phone and called Jake’s number. It went straight to voice mail.

“Hey, Jake, uh, I know you’re still on the plane, but I just wanted to say…I love you. I…I love you lots. Uh, OK, I guess that’s it. Oh, this is Waverly. Bye.”

I hung up and cringed slightly, wondering if I’d ever get any better at leaving voice mails.

When I got back to the bar, Paige was chatting with a tall man with sandy brown hair and broad shoulders.

“Hi,” I said as I approached.

The man turned around, and I was struck by how attractive he was. He was rugged and chiseled and looked like an Abercrombie & Fitch model, or, rather, like the father of an Abercrombie & Fitch model, most of whom looked about sixteen.

“Well hello there, I’m Gary.” He held out his hand for a firm shake. “I’m in town from Nashville.”

“I’m Waverly. It’s nice to meet you.”

I quickly peeked at the ring finger on his left hand, which was bare. Then I looked at Paige, who had seen me do it and smiled knowingly as she handed me a full glass of wine. “Gary just ordered us another round. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

I took the glass and smiled back. “Thank you, yes, that was very nice of you.”

Gary held his glass up to ours for a toast. “Here’s to new friends in new places.”

We clinked our glasses against his. “So what brings you to Chicago?” I asked.

“Business meetings. I’m in sales, nothing too exciting. I was just telling Paige that I’d love to take her to dinner tonight, but she said she couldn’t leave her friend. So what do you say? There’s a world-class steak house just a couple doors down from the hotel, and I’d be honored to treat you both.” He spoke with a Southern drawl that was slight enough to be charming yet not distracting. He reminded me of Blake Shelton.

I stole a quick glance at Paige, who nodded quickly. Then I regained eye contact with Gary. “Um, sure, why not? We don’t have any pressing plans tonight, do we, Paige?”

“I don’t think so.” She said the words casually, but there was a spark in her eye I’d never seen.

Gary tapped his palm on the bar. “Well then, it’s settled. Tonight Nashville is taking New York out on the town in Chicago.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Paige said.

I sensed I had a long night ahead.

• • •

By the time dessert came, I was a little buzzed and a lot exhausted. I took a bite of flourless chocolate cake and wished I were up in my room. I felt like we’d been at the restaurant for hours, but Paige was clearly having a ball. Gary was super charming, not to mention super attractive, so I was determined to hang in there and be a good wingman for as long as she needed me.

Until then.

Gary held up his wine glass. “So, are you ladies up for a drink back at the hotel? Maybe some dancing?”

I looked up from my plate and tried not to laugh. “Did you just say
dancing
?” There was
no way
I was going dancing.

Paige nodded. “A drink back at the hotel sounds like fun. Count me in. As for the dancing, we’ll have to see.”

“Atta girl.” Gary said to her, and then looked at me. “What about you, Waverly, are you in for another round at the hotel?”

I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’m beat. I think I’m going to head up to my room and crash.”

“Are you sure? It’s still so early.” Paige gave me a look feigning disappointment, but I knew she didn’t care. And why would she? Gary was, well,
hot
. I had a boyfriend I loved dearly, but Gary was still hot.

It was definitely time to cut the wingman loose.

I yawned and thought about all the e-mails I still needed to deal with in the morning for
Honey on Your Mind
. “I know it’s early, but I’m exhausted and have a lot of work to do. If I want to make a decent impression at brunch tomorrow, I need to go to bed.”

Paige laughed. “Andie told me you need your fourteen hours of sleep.”

I nodded. “That girl knows me well.”

Gary paid the bill, and the three of us walked back to the hotel. I said good-bye in the lobby and proceeded to follow my own instructions: I went upstairs and crashed.

• • •

I slept like a corpse, and by the time I met Paige in the lobby at ten thirty, I’d already showered, scanned the paper, answered a bunch of reader e-mails, and spoken to Jake on the phone. I was quite proud of myself for being so productive on a Saturday.

Paige, on the other hand, didn’t look so perky when she arrived.

“Ouch, you don’t look so good.”

She nodded. “I’ll take that. I slept two hours.”

“Two hours! Are you serious?”

“Shhh, not so loud.” She took off her sunglasses and sat down in a chair next to me.

I lowered my voice. “What happened?”

She smiled.

“Well?”

“We ended up having a couple of more drinks at the bar, and then we went dancing at some club downtown, and then…” her voice trailed off.

“And then what?”

She smiled again.

“You hooked up with him?”

She nodded. “Nothing too serious, though. He was a complete gentleman.”

“Nice! He’s super dreamy.”

She kept nodding. “Isn’t he?”

“Is he still here?”

She shook her head. “He left early this morning for the airport.
But
, he’s coming to New York next week for work, so we’re going to meet up then.”

“That’s great, Paige. He seems like a nice guy. I love his Southern manners.” I was so excited for her. If anyone needed a nice guy with manners, it was Paige.

She put her sunglasses back on. “I do too. Maybe that’s been my problem all along. I’ve been casting my rod for New York men, when apparently I should have gone fishing in the South all along. They’re like a different species, you know?”

Jake was from Florida. I knew.

We gathered our things and headed out for our brunch, which I half-expected would be canceled en route.

• • •

Finally, the meeting happened.

From our seats at the table, Paige and I watched a woman enter the restaurant and approach us.

She was fifteen minutes late.

Rebecca Clark was a senior buyer at Jordan Brooke. From what Paige had told me about her, she was powerful, had great instincts, and was highly regarded within the industry.

In other words, she was a big shot.

She also wasn’t anything like I expected.

Disheveled and out of breath, she rushed to the table and sat down.

“Ladies, I’m so sorry to be late, and I’m
so sorry
for being so hard to pin down. I hate when people cancel on me, and I can’t apologize enough for doing it to you twice. And in the same day! Goodness me.” She shook each of our hands, then immediately
reached for a croissant and began to butter it. “It’s just so unprofessional, and I’m mortified. Just mortified. And as for my tardiness this morning, let’s just say my kids are going to get an earful when I get back to the house. Again, I apologize.” She took a bite of croissant and sighed. I tried not to laugh.

This
is the senior buyer who had me so nervous?

“Don’t worry, we completely understand,” Paige said. “These things happen.”

I nodded. “Of course. It’s completely fine. It’s so nice to meet you, Rebecca.”

“Oh please, call me Becca.” She smiled, and I couldn’t help but notice that a flake of croissant was clinging to her lip. She looked at me. “I’m so glad you could stick around for an extra day. I’m a huge fan of
Love, Wendy
, and when I saw you wearing that adorable T-shirt during your segment, I just knew it was something our customers at Jordan Brooke would really like.”

“Which one was I wearing?”

“It was pink, and it said I
KNOW NOTHING, BUT AT LEAST
I
KNOW THAT
. Delightful!”

I laughed. “Ah, yes, I like that one too.”
And it’s true. If I learned anything each day of my life, it was that I pretty much knew nothing
.

After the waiter took our order, Paige leaned down and pulled out her huge binder. She removed a laminated sales sheet with photos of all my Honey Tees and handed it to Becca, who wiped her hand on her napkin before taking it. The flake of croissant still lingered on her lip.

Becca nodded as she looked over the sales sheets. “I love it. These are great.”

Paige proceeded to pull out sales sheets for the other Honey products, and as Becca looked over them, I stared at the flaky
chunk, just dangling there like a child’s loose tooth. It was a good distraction for me, because I honestly wasn’t sure what else I should do. The two of them were engrossed in conversation, chatting in retail jargon that sailed right over my head. Paige may have been running on fumes, and Becca was hardly a model of panache, but both of them clearly knew their stuff. I was impressed.

After defying gravity for several minutes, the remaining croissant finally fell off, and shortly thereafter, the waiter returned with our meals. As Becca cut up her French toast, she looked at me, and then Paige, and then back to me. She didn’t speak but looked like she was about to, so we remained silent.

Finally, she took an enormous bite, so I did the same with my omelet. The moment my mouth was full, she spoke.

“Waverly, to be frank, dare I say you’ve got something special here.”

I swallowed as fast as I could and drank some water. “You think so?”

“I do indeed.” She took another enormous bite of French toast and nodded. A tiny droplet of maple syrup attached itself to her chin.

I glanced at Paige, who nodded quickly and winked.

Then Rebecca “Becca” Clark, respected senior buyer at Jordan Brooke, made clear her intention to place my first official retail order.

A significant order to begin in the new calendar year.

Waverly’s Honey Shop was officially open for business.

• • •

On the way home from the airport later that day, my phone rang. It was Scotty.

“Hi, Scotty, what’s up?”

“Hey, sugar, listen, I need you to tape a segment tomorrow. I just found out they’re having a jam and marmalade street fair on the Upper East Side, and I think it would be good to have our resident Honey expert there. Apparently, several local honey makers have booths.”

“There’s an entire street fair dedicated to
jam and marmalade
? Are you joking?”

“This is New York, my dear. We have street fairs dedicated to people who have rabbits as pets.”

I laughed. “OK, fine. What time do I need to be there?”

“Can you do eight? Jeff will meet you there with a camera.”

“Eight in the
morning
? What kind of street fair starts at eight in the morning?”

“Jam and marmalade people are early risers. They make breakfast food, you know.”

I did the math in my head. Getting to the Upper East Side by eight meant I’d have to wake up by six, if not earlier, to shower and get camera-ready.

Ugh.

“OK, I’m in.”

“Beautiful, beautiful. Thanks.”

I hung up, closed my eyes, and leaned back into the seat of the taxi.

Things were definitely moving forward in a good way, but I was exhausted.

• • •

By the time I finally met up with Jake that evening, it was nearly time for me to go to bed again.

“A jam and marmalade street fair? For real?” Jake finished the last bite of his steak. We were at Jack the Horse Tavern, a popular restaurant on Hicks Street not too far from my apartment. I’d wanted to celebrate my first real “account” with a fancy dinner, but I was fighting just to stay awake. And I was already stressed about having to get up again at the crack of dawn.

“For real. I’ve given up asking questions. Now I just go where I’m told.” In the two months since I’d arrived, I’d shot footage for
Honey on Your Mind
at a tiny dog show, a cupcake bakery, a brewery, and a store that sold items made only out of licorice. Some we never used, but much of it had been well received. Scotty and the production crew clearly knew what they were doing, so I’d quickly learned to just go with it.

“Should I come with you?” Jake asked.

I looked up from my plate. “You want to come with me?”

“Yeah, why not? It’ll be fun to see you in action. Plus you know what they say, a real man can never have enough marmalade in his pantry.”

I laughed. “But what if I choke?”

“You won’t choke.”

“But what if I get all nervous and flustered because I know you’re watching?” I pointed at him. “You know my unfortunate history of getting nervous and flustered around you.”

He smiled and put his hands up. “OK, OK, I won’t go.”

Suddenly, visions of my earlier standoffish behavior toward him, back when we were first getting to know each other, flashed before my eyes. I didn’t want to make that mistake again.

“You know it’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, right?” I said quickly.

“Of course I do.”

“Because I totally want to spend time with you, I really do.”

He motioned for the check. “It’s OK, really, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll find something else to do. Maybe I’ll play tourist and check out Times Square or the Empire State Building.”

I did the math in my head. If I was gone all morning that would mean I’d cut our “weekend” together down to one dinner at which I’d been half-asleep.

Suck it up, Waverly.

“How about you come, but maybe you could promise to stay…like a hundred blocks away during the taping?” I smiled weakly and awaited his reply.

He laughed and scratched his eyebrow. “Did you just say
a hundred blocks away
?”