“So you’re a vegetarian?” I asked, sitting down across from her at the small table.
Julie nodded. “For about six years. I don’t try to be sanctimonious about it. It’s just better for my body.”
“I’ve tried a few times. Nine months was my longest stretch. Pepperoni pizza defeated me.”
“Hot dogs and Slim Jims, that’s what I crave. And I’m not sure they’re even meat. But I still haven’t given in.”
“Maybe you miss MSG.”
Julie laughed. “Maybe,” she said as she smiled nicely at me. “So, you were at a charity event?”
I nodded. “The Chancellor Arts Council. I organized their fundraiser. It went really well.”
“That’s so cool. I thought you worked for the winery?”
“Yeah, well, the winery is my family’s business. I sort of fell into it. My mother—she passed last year—was really active in the art community here. It left a soft spot in my heart, so I try to help out.”
Julie smiled softly and lightly touched my hand as if to comfort me. “My mom died over the summer. I understand how hard it can be,” she said, brushing my hand in a kind of careful caress once more then let me go.
“Sorry to hear that. How…”
“Cancer,” Julie answered.
“Same here.”
“My mom…we had a relative who left us the property on Magnolia. You’d mentioned the winery was interested. It wasn’t a regular real estate acquisition. We…I…inherited it. I’m going to pull it off the market. I’ll be opening up a shop there.”
Panic spread from my head to my toes. I could already hear Dad bitching at me, and then at Viola, about how we were costing him his dream. What in the hell was I going to say now?
“Here you go,” Alice said, setting down two red plastic baskets, the perfectly prepared sandwiches inside, sided, of course, by her homemade chips. She set down two glasses of water as well. “Want anything else? Coffee or anything?”
“No. Thank you,” Julie replied politely. “These look fabulous. Thank you, Alice.”
“You’re very welcome,” Alice replied, and with a wave, she headed back to the kitchen, pausing to flash me two thumbs-up signs behind Julie’s back.
I lifted the sandwich and took a bite while I considered what to say next. How in the hell was I going to get her to give up the property? It was an inheritance.
“Oh my God, this thing is amazing,” Julie said. “It’s got some wild cream cheese on it. Is that dill? And fresh basil. Wow,” Julie said, examining her sandwich before she took another bite.
“What were you thinking of doing with the property?” I asked.
“I’m a baker,” Julie said confidently. “I was thinking sweets, all organic though, and a tea shop. Like an old apothecary.”
“Really?” I asked as my mind twisted with what to say, to do, next.
Julie caught my apprehension but misread it. “You don’t think people here would like that?”
Panic. I felt the muscles across my chest tighten.
“I…I’m not sure,” I lied. People in Chancellor would love it. Besides Alice’s bagels, there wasn’t a real bake shop in town, and the older ladies in Chancellor would adore a tea shop. But if I told her that, well, then there would be no talking her out of the property. “If you want to open up a place in Chancellor, the old Pizzeria over on Maple, really close to the college, just became available. That family retired, and pizza is always a hit near a college.”
Julie eyed me suspiciously then shrugged. “I don’t know. The old place on Magnolia has so much character, you know?”
I did know, but I also knew how pissed off Dad was going to be if I didn’t get that property. “Sat a long time though. The roof was looking pretty rough. Plumbing and wiring might be a problem. Could be tough, and expensive, to turn it around.”
“It’s just so adorable. I love its vibe. What were you thinking to do with the place?” Julie asked, and this time I heard an edge to her voice that wasn’t there before.
“We’re opening a restaurant quite near that spot. Maybe you noticed the old water wheel just down the block from you? I think Dad is looking for some overflow space,” I said carefully.
“Restaurant overflow? Like an extra kitchen? Storage?”
“Well, no, not really.”
“Oh,” Julie said then, setting down her sandwich. “So, more like parking.”
“The building is just too old. I’d hate to see you go into the property. It’s just sat unused for so long.”
Julie sat back in her seat and sipped her water. She had a mildly annoyed look on her face. “So your Dad was planning to demolish the place? For parking?”
“Well, it just looks like a wreck. Probably not worth saving, no offense to your relative. It’s just been uninhabited for so long. Listen, the winery could offer you a really good price for the property.”
“I’m not sure—”
Panicking, I added, “I know we’d offer you more than enough to get you into a modern shop, some place you wouldn’t have to renovate. Name your price.”
“But the property belonged to a relative,” Julie said, her eyebrows furrowing.
“True. But I’m sure that relative would love to see you succeed in business, not waste your money on new plumbing. There are a few cute places on Main to rent. I could introduce you—”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” she said then started digging through her purse. She pulled out a ten and set it on the table. “Thank you for the lunch.” She rose and strung her purse bandolier style around her body. “And please thank Alice for the Band-Aid.” She cast a glance at her finger. “I…I don’t think we have anything more to discuss. And I really need to head back.”
Crap. Crap, crap, crap. I’d let my Hunter side out, and once again, big money shot his mouth off. This time, however, I’d scared off someone truly lovely.
“Please don’t go, Julie. Sorry…I…I had to ask. I didn’t mean to pressure—”
“No worries,” she said, flashing me what I recognized as a fake smile. “Nice to meet you, Horatio,” she said then turned and exited the building, the bell above the door signaling her departure.
As she turned and headed down the street, I could see the look of utter disgust, frustration, and maybe sadness, on her face.
“What happened?” Alice asked, coming up behind me. “She start pocket digging?”
I shook my head and boggled at the truth. “No. I did.”
Chapter 7: Julie
It was late afternoon by the time I got home. My stomach was growling loudly, my finger ached, and I was still agitated with Horatio Hunter. Dad wasn’t home yet. I headed upstairs to the bathroom and started digging around for a first aid kit. Dad hadn’t thrown away Mom’s makeup and other beauty supplies yet. I opened her little travel kit and found everything I’d been searching for: alcohol, Band-Aids, and Neosporin. As I sat bandaging my finger, my eyes drifted to her drawer full of nail polishes, eye shadows, and moisturizers. Mom and I were so different. It was no wonder we could never see eye to eye on anything. I would never forget the look on her face when I told her I wanted to pass on the scholarship I’d been awarded and go to culinary school.
“What are you talking about?” she said, glowering at me over her cup of coffee one Saturday morning just after I’d graduated from high school.
“I just…I just don’t think dentistry is right for me.”
“Then get your MD or become a psychologist or a nurse or something. The future is in medicine, Julie. How many times have we been over this? You have a scholarship. You’re going.”