When Hearts Collide

By Mary Gant Bell

Sandy was in trouble. Her ice cream shop was everything she ever imagined it would be. Except she didn’t have any customers. The viral video that put her on the map had faded into the past. Her business needed a future.
Once she found the courage to ask for assistance, Sandy got more than she bargained for. Suddenly her life, and her livelihood, became saturated with helpful and gorgeous men. Not only did they want to see her busines thrive, they also wanted to win her heart.
Her cry for help was also answered by Brett. No matter how far she ran, Brett followed her and appeared at the most inopportune times. She couldn’t shake him, or the lies and secrets that had destroyed their relationship like ketchup ruins an ice cream sundae.
But she couldn’t deny that it was Brett who rescued her from failure. Was that enough to give him her heart? Or would one of the other helpful men provide a firmer foundation for her future? One without secrets and mysteries.
When Hearts Collide is book 3 of the series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716818974

Book preview

Chapter 1

Sandy fought back tears as she watched the rain pour off the awning. The water ran into the street and swished into the sewer. Just like my life’s dreams. Down the drain.

Sandy’s Ice Cream Shop had been her all-consuming desire since she was a child. After becoming a popular spot, thanks to a viral video that almost cost Sandy her life, she had added the awning to create outdoor seating. People sat their alright. Unfortunately, they weren’t customers who were occupying her valuable real estate. Most days, lactose intolerant folks came looking for a place to check their email.

Then there were days like today. Rainy, soggy, and too cold to make people crave an ice cream treat. Days when Sandy wondered why she didn’t just close the doors and go home. She hadn’t had enough customers today to pay her only employee’s wage. Again. If she cut Courtney’s hours, the girl would have no choice but to quit and look for a full-time job elsewhere. 

It’s just one day. Courtney’s voice cut through Sandy’s misery. Tomorrow we’ll be packed. You’ll see.

Sandy’s smile was weak, but she had to snap out of this funk. If not for herself, at least for the girl. Courtney had dreams, too. What kind of an example would she set if she sulked at work?

You’re right. As soon as the rain stops, people will flock through our doors, demanding a huge sundae. Sandy straightened a few chairs on her way to the cash register. We could use this time to develop some new flavors. Maybe update our specialty sundae options.

That’s a good idea. Courtney leaned against the counter and watched the downpour through the window. Our first one could be called ‘Rainy Day Blues.’ It would be topped with a mountain of blue sprinkles.

And those little silver balls I refuse to stock. Sandy glanced at the clock. Again.

Instead of specialty sundaes, we could create some themed desserts and offer them for a limited time. One for Fourth of July, another for the first day of school. Stuff like that. Then people would be here all the time so they wouldn’t miss any. Courtney grabbed a rag and wiped the unused tables.

Or maybe we should see it for what it is and give up, Sandy said, joining Courtney at a table against the wall. It was fun while it lasted, but it was just a fad. Our customers have moved on to the next trend. Ice cream is so yesterday.

How can you say that? Courtney abandoned her cleaning and straddled a chair across from her boss. Ice cream is timeless. Ain’t nobody gonna give up ice cream.

Sandy’s eyes grew wide. I can’t remember the last time I heard you talk like that. Your language has improved a hundred-fold in the past year. Why are you reverting back to your old ways all of a sudden?

Cuz you got me scared. If you close this place, I ain’t got no job. You gotta think about more than just yourself, Sandy.

Sandy stared out the window and jiggled her foot. Her nervousness rubbed off on Courtney, who started chewing her hair. They had both discarded their hair nets as soon as the rain started. The two ladies, and their uneasiness, sat in silence as the thunder rumbled.

I know. Courtney broke the stillness. We need another video to go viral. That worked like a charm last time. We’re clever. Let’s come up with a catchy slogan and make a viral video again.

I doubt it would work a second time. Sandy’s voice was flat. The thought of losing her shop, the dream of her childhood, left no room for optimism.

Hey, I know. Let’s call that photographer dude who did Tricia’s wedding. I’m sure she’d know how to contact him. He’d make a video for us. Courtney’s enthusiasm made Sandy’s stomach turn.

You mean Brett? The words caught in the back of Sandy’s throat. She hadn’t spoken his name in over a year. To her tender heart, that wasn’t enough time to forget him, or his charming ways.

I’ll ask Tricia for his card. He can help us make a video that will create a line of customers down the block. Courtney stood with renewed energy. It will be fun. That man was some serious eye candy. I could look at him all day.

Sandy buried her face in her hands. The only thing worse than giving up her ice cream shop would be seeing Brett again.

⅏      ⅏      ⅏

The next day, the rain had stopped but not the despair hanging over the ice cream shop’s empty dining area. When the bell above the door jingled, Courtney jumped.

Hey, girlfriend! Courtney called to Tricia. What’s all this?

Tricia dropped a stack of books onto the table and collapsed into a chair. Remind me again why I took so many classes this semester. There’s no way I’m going to be able to keep up with the workload.

Courtney scanned the pile of textbooks while Tricia summoned the energy to remove her coat. These are all basic classes. You can do this.

Well, even if I believed that, I don’t know when I’ll find the time. Tricia waved at Sandy across the room. Between cooking dinner, grocery shopping, and working forty hours, I’m too exhausted to think about homework in the evenings. When do college students find time to date or party?

Maybe your new husband should take classes with you. Then you could at least study together. Courtney pushed the books aside and sat across from Tricia.

Tricia picked at the edge of a textbook. He doesn’t understand. When David was in the seminary, he worked all day and volunteered somewhere every night. I swear he was able to memorize five chapters of any book while brushing his teeth. I’m not that smart.

Stop it. Courtney patted her friend’s shoulder. You won’t let me wallow in my own stink. I’m not about to let you set a bad example for me.

Sandy joined them with a cup of vanilla ice cream for each of them. I just got a call from Aunt Edna. She asked me to tell you she’s running a bit late, but the others should be here any minute. What’s going on?

I wish I knew, Tricia said. One minute I’m casually telling her about the orphanage, you know, just making conversation. In the next breath she’s explaining her battle plan for some mail-out campaign to raise funds.

That’s Aunt Edna. Sandy decided to sit and gather what information she could.

I agreed to meet her here today. She doesn’t seem to understand we can’t just do our own thing. Everything we send out has to be approved by the regional office. What words do I use to convince her to drop the whole thing without offending her?

I wish I knew. Aunt Edna does her own thing. How you say it or what you want doesn’t penetrate her brain. She believes she knows best, no matter what topic you’re discussing.

How do you get her to respect you?

Sandy glanced out the window. When I learn that, you’ll be the first to know.

Tell her the story you told me about your father’s funeral, Courtney suggested.

What happened? Tricia asked, leaning closer to Sandy.

When my father died, Edna owned a floral shop. Sandy ducked her head as if she could block out the bad memory. She showed up at my mother’s house to take our order for the casket spray and such. It never occurred to her we might want to use a different floral shop. Since we were family, she assumed we would use her.

Is she really family? Or do you just call her ‘aunt’? Tricia asked, inspecting her spoon for any remaining chocolate sauce.

The only reason she’s family is because she married my uncle, Sandy said.

True that. Courtney and Sandy fist bumped each other.

Anyway, my mom told her she wanted a spray with two dozen roses. And Edna said it would be $200. Then we ordered a remembrance pillow for the grandchildren, which was another $20. Or so she said. Those were the two things that stuck out in my mind.

Did she deliver them? Tricia couldn’t wait to hear how the story ended.

When we got to the funeral home, the casket spray was pretty, but it had three dozen roses, not two as we had requested. My mother was unhappy because she thought it looked over the top. She didn’t want to look too grandiose or lavish. But I told her to leave it alone. It was too late to do anything about it. Sandy held her cup of ice cream but didn’t eat it.

Then Aunt Edna showed up. Courtney picked up the story at this point. "She told anyone who would listen she had added the third dozen herself. As if it was her gift to correct a mistake. Like she had single-handedly saved the day."

As if she should have had any say in the funeral decisions. Sandy’s jaw was getting tighter by the minute. It was like she was publicly criticizing my mother’s choices. Mom wanted something smaller, but Aunt Edna fixed her mistake for her.

And tried to take all the credit for it. Courtney waved her spoon in the air. Tell her what happened after that.

Sandy put her ice cream down. A couple days after the funeral, Aunt Edna showed up at my mother’s house with a bill for the flowers. The bill was for three dozen roses. She charged her an extra hundred dollars.

She told everyone she had gifted the roses and then charged your mother for them? Tricia’s eyes widened.

And she charged double for the grandchildren’s pillow, too, Courtney said.

Wow! Tricia shook her head. It’s not just me? She railroads everyone?

With her martyr mentality, Sandy said as she stood. Edna suffered so from donating roses just so she can be the hero and save my mother from the unforgiveable sin of not having an ostentatious casket spray.

And now a moment of silence for the long-sufferin’ Aunt Edna. Courtney shoveled her last bite of ice cream into her mouth.

Prepare yourself. Sandy pushed her chair under the table. Here comes Aunt Edna’s cult members now.

⅏      ⅏      ⅏

I couldn’t believe it. Tricia put her feet on Greta’s patio chair and yawned. I couldn’t get her to stop no matter how hard I tried.

Greta poured two glasses of iced tea and handed one to her sister. What did the letters say?

It doesn’t matter. They haven’t been approved by the regional office. It’s not ‘Aunt Edna’s Orphanage.’ She can’t dictate what will happen. She’s not even officially a volunteer with the organization. I can’t figure out why she got involved in the first place.

She’s trying to help, Greta said, squinting into the sun. Can’t you explain to her what is productive and ask her to work on that?

It’s like asking a palm branch to write like a quill. She’s larger than life. And definitely bigger than reasonable thought.

She showed up with stacks of form letters. Who did she expect you to mail them to? Greta picked a dead leaf from the plant decorating the table.

That was what saved us. Tricia sipped her tea. Apparently, she thought I was providing the address labels. But since I didn’t know there was anything to mail out … since there was nothing approved … I didn’t bring them. We stuffed them all into the envelops she brought … envelops that didn’t contain the orphanage’s logo or anything … and put them in Sandy’s storage room. After Edna left, Courtney helped me throw them in the dumpster.

Why didn’t you take the letters to the regional office and ask for permission to mail them? It seems rather wasteful to not at least ask. She probably went to a huge expense to print those and purchase the envelops.

No doubt she’ll expect the organization to reimburse her, too. Tricia yawned. Thanks for inviting me and David to dinner. I’m so tired from school. It’s a treat to have my sister cook for one night.

You didn’t fill yourself full of ice cream at Sandy’s?

There was no time to eat. Not with drill sergeant Edna cracking the whip. Tricia swallowed the last of her tea. Courtney said Sandy is worried about her lack of customers.

How many people were there while you were there today? Greta asked.

There was no room for ice cream lovers. Aunt Edna rearranged all the tables and stacked the chairs against the wall. She took over every inch of Sandy’s shop, Tricia said. And then I heard her tell Sandy how helpful it was for her to make Sandy’s shop appear full of happy customers. She thought everyone walking past would think the place was crowded because the ice cream is so good.

She could be right. Greta glanced at her watch.

Anybody walking past could easily see we weren’t eating ice cream. It looked more like a sweat shop from the sidewalk. One glance in the door, and people would run the other way before someone put them to work.

I’m sure you’re exaggerating, Greta said as she stood. I’ll be right back. It’s time to put the roast in the oven.

Tricia leaned back and indulged in a cat nap. She loved her sister. There was no denying that Greta had rescued her from her own poor choices more than once. Since she had a quiet moment to herself, Tricia said a quick prayer that Sandy would not be a victim to Aunt Edna’s helpful ways. If Sandy received much more help like that, she would go out of business for sure.

Chapter 2

Sandy shifted in her seat. Again. She glanced at her watch. Again. He was supposed to be here by now. Even though she wasn’t in a hurry to hear what he had to say, she wanted this to be over.

The waiter approached her table. Again. She almost asked him for a bottle of whiskey. But she didn’t drink. Tennis was her way of relieving stress. Envisioning all the anger and tension traveling down her neck, through her shoulder, into her arm and flashing from her fingertips. Smashing the ball and launching it across the court like a bullet flying from a gun. Whiskey only dulled emotions. Yellow balls sent problems soaring far from her orbit.

No thank you, Sandy told the waiter. I’ll wait until my friend arrives to order.

Friend. Sandy laughed. The man she was meeting, the man who was now thirty minutes late, was definitely not her friend. She couldn’t imagine any scenario when she would think of him as anything more than a traitor. Her enemy. A dream killer. The robber of souls.

Definitely not a friend.

Excuse me? Are you Sandy?

She did her best to paste a smile on her face and looked up. He was tall. Sandy liked tall men, but she quickly reminded herself he was a hatchet man. He was handsome, but that didn’t matter either. She hoped to never see him after today. And he was relaxed. How dare he appear calm when he was about to shatter her world. That alone solidified her decision to detest him.

He set his briefcase on the floor and made himself comfortable across from her. I’m Anthony. Sorry I’m so late.

The waiter arrived, allowing Sandy time to swallow her pride. She had asked him for this meeting. The things he had to say wouldn’t go down any smoother if she snarled at him until the check arrived.

Sandy tried not to squirm as he appraised her over his menu. After the waiter retreated back to the kitchen, she went on the defensive. Both of my ice cream shops in Seattle did an amazing business. I arrived here with enough cash for a down payment on any building I wanted. I know how to run a profitable business.

Anthony smiled through her speech. I’m glad you’re defensive and know how to be successful. That’s a great start.

I’m not defensive. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Yes, you do, Anthony said, leaning back in his chair. I like that in a business owner. If you didn’t care enough to preserve your dream, why would you be paying me to help you turn it around?

It’s not like I’m incompetent. Sandy twisted her glass on its coaster.

Intelligent people know when to ask for help.

I don’t … Sandy’s thought was interrupted by the waiter delivering their food. It was probably a good thing. The rest of that sentence wouldn’t have demonstrated her willingness to work with this man. A man with amazingly beautiful bright blue eyes.

Need help. Anthony finished her sentence as he spread his napkin over his thighs. Then why am I here?

Sandy’s hands fell to her lap. She stared at the ceiling to stop the tears. Because I need help.

Anthony finished chewing the bite of roast beef sandwich in his mouth. There’s no shame in it. I’d be unemployed if no one needed guidance from time to time. Now, tell me why you left Seattle if your business was booming there.

Sandy’s face turned from ‘I just lost my puppy’ to ‘I can kill you with my bare hands’ in a single heartbeat. The answer to that is irrelevant.

Anthony’s sandwich stopped in midair. As you wish. Will you tell me why you invited me to lunch?

Sandy pushed broccoli around her plate, but nothing touched her lips. I was doing fine. Business was good. I had a steady stream of clients. And then the viral video circled the world.

I watched the links you sent me. I’m sorry that happened to you.

It was awful at the time, but I can’t deny it drew people in from far and wide. Everyone wanted to see the scene of the crime. And they all bought ice cream while they were there. It was great.

For awhile. When did it stop?

The wave lasted about a year. Then I did a wedding cake, which was new for me. I figured it would generate some unique clients. Branching out into something new.

Ice cream wedding cakes? Anthony’s eyebrows shot up. That’s a great way to diversify. How many nuptials did you do?

Two. Sandy gave up trying to eat and put her fork back on the table. They were sisters.

What did you do to spread the word? How did you advertise your wedding cakes? Anthony took another large bite of his sandwich. He was halfway through his meal, and Sandy had barely touched her food.

Nothing really. I wasn’t convinced I could accommodate many brides. Weekends used to be the busiest days in my shop. How could I keep things running smoothly there if I were someplace else? I didn’t really pursue it.

You don’t have any employees that you trust to hold down the fort?

Sandy sipped her tea. When I did the weddings, I had two employees. One I had to let go about eight months ago. There wasn’t enough business to justify her position. The second is Courtney. Let’s just say Courtney has come a long way since I hired her and leave it at that.

To summarize. Right now, it’s just you and Courtney, the questionable employee.

And no customers.

It’s really okay for you to eat. Your business will not prosper if you go on a hunger strike.

What will restore my dream? Answer that and I’ll eat.

Anthony wiped his mouth and retrieved his notes from his briefcase.

First of all, if you hire me, here’s a list of things I’ll investigate. Secondly, after I have the answers to these questions, we’ll develop a plan of action together. Third, implement the plan and enjoy your success.

Sandy glanced through the list. Some items she had already tried. Others were foreign concepts. By the time she read the last entry, she realized she should have called a real estate agent instead of a marketing expert. Is it more overwhelming to quit or tackle this checklist of unsurmountable mountains?

I don’t know how to do these things.

"Which is why you hire me. Together, we can recoup your profits and reclaim the dream. Neither of us can do this alone, Sandy. Don’t hire me unless you’re willing to take some risks and interested in