A Savannah Christmas Wish. Nan Dixon

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       CHAPTER TWO

      I love to smell flowers in the dark... You get hold of their soul then.

      Lucy Maud Montgomery

      BESS ALMOST TRIPPED on the uneven sidewalk.

      It had been four days since Daniel, the villain, had said he was kicking her out of her home. Okay—not fair. They were selling her apartment. An hour ago he’d called and said he had the asking price. They were meeting at Becca’s Coffee Shop.

      Didn’t Daniel remember what had happened here? Ten years ago, this had been Dora’s Café. Bess had run into Daniel here and he’d looked so sad, she’d been determined to cheer him up. Even though he’d been in college, she’d invited him to a party on Tybee.

      He’d been hers for exactly six hours. Six wonderful hours until midnight. Then, after losing her virginity, the magic had disappeared. Daniel had been appalled that they’d had sex. He’d left her broken and rejected.

      His words echoed in her head. I can’t believe I lost control. This should never have happened. It won’t happen again.

      Even after his rejection, the next weekend she’d driven to Georgia Tech, hoping to convince him that they could be together.

      Daniel had humiliated her. He’d accused her of getting him drunk. She was the reason he’d been out of control. Because of her pushing, they’d slept together. When he was around her, he lost sight of right from wrong.

      That four-hour drive back to Savannah had been the worst time of her life.

      Bess shook her head, shook away the past. Was Daniel really so cruel that he wouldn’t recognize where the worst night of her life had started?

      The door jangled as she entered. After buying a cup of tea, she found an open table.

      Daniel walked in wearing a Braves ball cap, and T-shirt and jeans that outlined the muscles he’d developed since the last time she’d touched him. It wasn’t fair that he was the hottest man in the coffee shop.

      He nodded and headed to the counter.

      Anger bubbled up inside her like a boiling kettle. She shoved it away. All she wanted was the price of her apartment. Then she’d leave.

      After getting a glass of something cold, he headed to her table. “Hey, Bess.”

      “How much are you asking for my apartment?” Her mouth almost puckered from the bitter words.

      “I’m fine.” Daniel glared. “Thanks for asking.”

      “Neither of us can stand to be in the same room for more than five minutes.” She flipped her braid down her back. “Especially not here.”

      “What are you talking about?” He truly looked puzzled.

      “You’ve forgotten?” Typical.

      “Forgotten what?”

      “This used to be Dora’s.” She pressed her lips together. “The night I invited you to the party.”

      His mouth dropped open. “I forgot. I would never...”

      She let out a shaky sigh. A least Daniel hadn’t picked the spot on purpose.

      She waved a hand. “What’s the asking price?”

      He pulled out a flyer and slid it across the table.

      She skipped through the pictures and legalese, searching for the third-floor unit price. Her heart nearly stopped. “Two hundred and fifty thousand?”

      He nodded. “We kept it low based on the comps in the area.”

      Low? Her hand shook. The amount sounded insurmountable. “Can I keep this?”

      “Sure. It’s the mock-up.” He reached for her fist but jerked his hand away as if she were poison oak.

      Her teeth ground together. “You think I can’t qualify for a mortgage.”

      “I guess...” He blinked. “You and your sisters have so much cash tied up in Fitzgerald House.”

      “I make a good living.” But she didn’t. Acid burned in her gut. Her job was finished in a week and a half.