Page 57 of Worth the Try
She continues, “Are you saying that I get to be your very first client?”
Again, I blink as her words settle around me.Getto be.Very first client.And I realize the gift she’s giving me, this belief. This unspoken generosity of trust and faith that I’ll do exactly as she’s hoping for and then some. It’s enough to remind me that Idohave something to offer. That it doesn’t matter that I’ve not done this for anyone, because I’ve still got the talent and the knowledge to make it happen. The smile on my face is huge as I say, “Yes. Yes, you do.”
She winks knowingly. “Atta girl.”
Kari reaches for my free hand and squeezes it.
“You’re looking for an adventure honeymoon, right? You want it hot or cold?”
Allyson takes a sip of her coffee, some kind of whipped ice confection with cream on top, and grins. “Cold. My sweet man wants cold, so we’ll give him cold. Besides,” she says, her grin growing wicked, “there’s always something we can do to warm up.”
“Hell yes, there is.” Kari winks and laughs.
And just like that, I know I’ve made a new friend. I tap open the folder of ideas for discussion and launch in.
Kariand I go thrifting after the meeting, so it’s nearly dinner time before I roll up to Ansel’s house and make my way out of the house. I inhale deeply as I walk through the gate, catching the scent of grilled hamburgers as I close the latch behind me.
“Elle Belle!” Rosalie whips around the corner and barrels into me. “I missed you!”
I smile into her hazel eyes, trying and failing for the hundredth time not to think how remarkably similar they are to my own. Between the eyes and unruly hair, the resemblance between us is sometimes a little uncanny. I still don’t know anything about her mother; only that she’s not in the picture. But I don’t know why, nor do I know how much of this sweet girl’s life she’s missed. Every time I want to ask, something tells me to hold off. That Ansel will tell me when he’s ready.
“I missed you, too, Rosie bug,” I tell her, then scoop her into my arms as she jumps up, monkeying onto me.
She peeks into the tote on my other arm. “What’d you get? Anything for me?”
I chuckle as I walk us around the corner of the house and toward the outside kitchen, where Ansel stands over the grill. “Nope, nothing for you,” I say. “Just a pretty shirt that I found at the thrift store.”
“Can I go to the thrift store with you?” she wheedles. “I betIcould find pretty shirts for me, too.”
“It’s a date,” I confirm, bopping her on the nose. “We’ll go next week.”
“Yay!” She wiggles down and runs to Ansel. “Daddy, Elle Belle is taking me shopping next week!”
Ansel turns, tongs in hand, and I snort out a laugh. He sports a pink frilly apron, and between it and the tank top and shorter shorts he’s got on, it almost looks as if that’s theonlything he’s wearing from the front. He looks down, then back up, and smirks. “The guys thought it’d be funny to prank me the last time I had them over for a cookout. Took my aprons and left me only with this one.”
“And you haven’t gotten them back?” I prompt, giggling at him.
He shrugs, a tinge of pink staining the skin above his beard. “It’s…kind of comfortable. And it has better pockets!”
I can’t do anything except shake my head and grin.
He flips the burgers, then turns his attention back to me. “How did it go?”
“I got it!” I say, cheesing so hard my cheeks might actually cramp up. “Ansel, she isso cool, and her ideas are amazing, and we just vibed, and Kari was all ‘I knew it’ and smug about it, but Allyson—that’s her name, Allyson—she’s the chillest person, and does Jake have any clue how lucky he is to have her? Have youseenher? She is gorgeous!” I clamp my mouth shut, because I have babbled beyond all babbling. “Sorry,” I say, waving my hand dismissively as I see how broadly he’s smiling. “I know I’m being silly. It’s just?—”
“No way.” Ansel puts the tongs down and closes the distance between us. Warm hands grasp mine as he continues, “This is great, Elodie. It’s amazing. You’re glowing, and I’m so damn proud of you.” He stops. “NowI’mthe one being sorry—is it weird that I’m proud of you? It’s weird, isn’t it?”
I didn’t think it was possible, but I smile even bigger as butterflies erupt in my chest. “You’re proud of me?”
He squeezes my hands, then lets go and grabs my arms, looking at me with the sternest expression I think I’ve ever seen. “Elodie. I am beyond proud of you. You’ve created something out of thin air. You’re chasing your passion. Your dream. Of course, I’m proud of you. I have no right to—oof.” He grunts out a breath as I crash into him, squeezing him hard.
His arms wrap around me, their warmth seeping deep into my skin as I breathe him in.
“Group hug!” Rosie shouts, running over and wrapping her tiny arms around us.
The whole thing makes me nearly cry. I shouldn’t be so emotional about it, but I never got these kinds of moments growing up. The only time my mother was even close to being proud of me was when I won a regional pageant—and even then, all she gave me was a crisp nod and the barest of smiles. This is the woman who still doesn’t know I lost my job.
How is it that I’ve only known Ansel for two short months? It feels like he and Rosalie have been a part of my life forever. “Thank you,” I whisper against his chest.
