Stay Sweet(89)

“Seriously?”

She’s angry. Hands on hips. “Don’t you think I can do it?”

“Of course I do. I’m just sorry I didn’t think of it as an option. That you’d want to do this. You’d be giving up a lot.”

She knows. And in a way, she already has. She takes a paper out of her tote bag. “I wrote up an offer, but don’t feel like you have to accept it. I know this is really just the first step in negotiating. I want to pay you what’s fair.”

“You don’t have to pay me anything. I’ll give everything to you for free.”

“I don’t want it for free.”

He looks at the sheet. “Where are you going to get this kind of money?”

“I have a plan for that. But I wanted to talk to you first, to see if you’d even entertain it. I know how personal this is for you, with your mother and all. But my hope is that, deep down, you want this to go on.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I got so upset. I was putting all my hope in having you save the stand for me, but you’ve got your own stuff going on—school, your dad, your mom. If I want this place to survive, I need to step up and make it happen.”

“Wow. I knew you loved this place, but . . . wow.”

“It’s more than that—I do love it here, but I love the work too. I love the recipes, and the schedules, and the girls. I love the customers, I love—” She could go on and on, but stops when she realizes Grady is staring. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Amelia, I completely get it,” he says. “I feel like I’ve watched you fall in love this summer.” Amelia blushes, and Grady quickly clarifies, “This business, making ice cream. And now that you’ve found your passion, you’re going after it with everything you’ve got. It’s damn inspiring.”

The redness in her cheeks fires back up even hotter than before. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“Not at all. I think anyone who underestimates you is crazy.” He takes a small step closer. “I know you can do this.”

“You’ll find what you love too, Grady. I know you will.” Amelia really is sure of this, as sure as she is of anything. Grady’s a hard worker, kind, generous. He will do great things.

He smiles gratefully. “I’m actually excited to go back to Truman. But . . .”

“What?”

“I’m going to miss you is all.”

Her heart speeds up. She, of course, will miss Grady, too. So much it hurts her to think about it. “Well, if things work out like I hope they will, and I’m able to buy the business, you know exactly where I’ll be next summer. You can always come back to Sand Lake for some ice cream, on the house.”

Nervously, Grady reaches out for her hand. “I hope I don’t have to wait that long to see you again. I hope . . .” He drops his head back and takes a deep breath, summoning his courage. “I mean, I hope that if you come to Truman to visit Cate, you’ll let me know.”

Of course if things were good between her and Cate, Amelia would do this, absolutely. But she can’t wrap her head around ever visiting Truman without repairing their friendship first. Running into Cate somewhere on campus, not saying hi. The whole idea of it feels unpleasantly surreal. And way more painful, to be honest, than potentially not seeing Grady again.

“Cate and I aren’t in the best place right now,” Amelia admits. “I really hope we patch things up, but . . . who knows.”

He seems to get it. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not with Cate,” Amelia says, and Grady nods soberly. Except this can’t be it, this can’t be how they leave things. “Hey, look. I know you’re over the whole business thing, but I would still love to get your opinion on some ideas I’m thinking about for next summer.”

She barely finishes her sentence before Grady’s lighting up. “Yes! A hundred percent yes. Seriously, Amelia, you can call me any time you want to talk something through. Really. Any. Time.”

“Thank you, Grady. I will.”

They embrace, clumsily, earnestly, and both Amelia and Grady melt into the hug with tangible relief. This arrangement seems, at least for now, enough of a promise to satisfy their craving for more of each other. This summer isn’t going to be the end of whatever is sparking between them, but potentially just the beginning.





CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN


AMELIA CALLS A MEETING WITH all the stand girls the next day. Once she pitches her idea of buying Meade Creamery, they give her what her parents apparently could not—full-throttle approval. And over the next two days, each girl finds her own way to pitch in with a talent to help get Amelia’s fund-raiser page off the ground.

They take a million pictures of her, selecting one where she stands out in front of the stand, hands clasped behind her back, mimicking the power pose Grady struck for the Sand Lake Ledger that first day.

“I like it!” Amelia says.

But one of the newbies shakes her head. “Your shirt doesn’t pop. It’s too faded. Here.” And she pulls off her shirt, a newer polo, and switches with Amelia. They take the picture again, and Amelia sees she was totally right.

And best of all, they are eager to help her spread the word. They want to tell every customer about Amelia’s plans, give them the address of her donation page, but there’s one problem: the site isn’t yet live.