I rolled my eyes. “This isn’t your dad’s ice cream shop.” For a second, sadness flickered over his features. I felt a pang of guilt, guessing I’d hit on a sore spot. I could’ve asked him about it, but decided not to. I didn’t want to get to know him too well. “Besides,” I added, “you’re not going to need to work with any of the ingredients.”
He leaned against the counter, folding his arms and giving me that playful, taunting smile. “Okay. Tell me, what am I allowed to do? Count the gummy bears? Or maybe watch ice cream freeze?” So he had noticed my cold shoulder. I blushed and opened my mouth, but before I could respond, he laughed. “You’re trying so very hard to get me to dislike you. I hate to disappoint you,” he added with a grin, “but it’s not working.” My face burned hotter. “I’m not giving up, but I am going to help your mother. I’m pretty sure she’ll agree that I’m safe with a scooper.”
He stepped through the swinging doors, leaving me in stunned silence. The instant he was gone, the kitchen took on an empty, bland feeling. Great. I’d gotten exactly what I’d wanted, and now I wished I hadn’t.
For the next half hour, I tried to keep busy, starting a new batch of Goldichocs and restocking all of the jars of dried toppings.
When I went out front, I noticed the change in the atmosphere. The customers who’d been grousing about the long wait were now laughing and chatting happily. Lanz was scooping ice cream like a pro, as if he’d done it a thousand times before, and Mom looked so relieved that even she seemed cheery. Lanz was joking with the customers, charming them even as he explained that we’d run out of their favorite flavor.
“Why not try something fresh and new?” he coaxed one little girl. “A Mad Hatter Mango to match that blonde hair?” With another he teased, “Watch out for Pinocchio’s Pistachio. It will make your nose sprout like a tree!”
It seemed impossible for anyone to dislike him. Except, possibly, me.
Finally, there was nothing left for me to do but grab an ice cream scoop and join Mom and Lanz behind the counter.
“The rush is dying down,” I said to Mom as I drizzled hot fudge over the banana split order she’d just handed me.
“Finally.” Mom rang up the banana split for one of the last customers. “Thank goodness Lanz works so quickly.”
He held up his scoop. “And no customers were injured in the scooping of this ice cream.”
Mom laughed, and my heart sank. Great. Lanz had charmed Mom, too.
As Mom began wiping off a few of the tables, Lanz stepped to my side.
“So. Now do you approve?” he asked.
“Of what?” I dropped my eyes.
“Of me working here?”
“He impressed me so much today,” Mom chimed in, “that I told Lanz he’s welcome to help anytime.”
“You don’t need my approval.” I tried to turn away, but his gaze stopped me.
“But I do,” he said quietly, so only I could hear. His expression grew thoughtful. “I’m not sure what I’ve done to make it so, but I feel that you find me … unbearable?”
“No—”
“Per favore.” He held up a hand. “It is simple. If you don’t want me here, I won’t come.”
I didn’t want him here, but what choice did I have? If I didn’t agree, I’d lose my chance at dancing.
I shrugged, pretending that it made no difference to me one way or the other. “Work here. Whatever. It’s fine by me.”
“Molto bene! And tomorrow, I will bring all fresh ingredients. And we will make new ice cream. So delicious! You’ll see.”
I nodded, then made my escape into the kitchen. What was I getting myself into? Dance, I reminded myself. I’m doing this for dance. Dance was everything. And Lanz? I would get used to having Lanz around, and soon I’d forget that he’d ever had this strange, intoxicating effect on me.
“Let me get this straight.” Tilly leaned against her locker, twisting one of her braids around her finger. “You still have a shot at dancing, and you have someone to help your mom out at Once upon a Scoop. And you’re unhappy?” She raised one eyebrow doubtfully.
“You make it sound ridiculous.” I stifled a yawn. I’d barely slept last night, my mind whirring over the predicament I found myself in. “And I’m not unhappy. It’s just … the whole working with Lanz thing.”
“What’s wrong with Mr. Congeniality?” She smoothed out her KEEP CALM AND LET AN ENVIRONMENTALIST HANDLE IT tee.
I balked. “You don’t even know him. What if it’s a disaster?”
“Why would it be?” She gave me a quizzical look.
“I—I’m not sure we’ll get along,” I said helplessly.
“He’s befriended the entire student body in under two days. Plus, he seems to be taking his new job seriously.”
“Yeah right.” I scoffed, thinking of how little he seemed to take anything seriously.
“Well. Andres and I ran into him on Main Street last night. He was looking for the Marina Springs Ice Cream Shop. Checking out the competition, he said.” She paused to let this sink in. The Marina Springs Ice Cream Shop was Once upon a Scoop’s biggest competitor. Last year, the shop had beaten us for the town-voted honor of “Best Ice Cream in Marina Springs.” Mr. Sneeves had been grouchier than usual after we lost the title. “So maybe he really is as good at ice cream as he says he is,” Tilly said. When I could only shrug, she added, “What does Ethan say about it?”
My irritation burbled fresh. “Not much of anything.” I’d called Ethan last night, hoping I’d feel better after talking with him. But he’d been distant and distracted. All I’d heard were monotone “uh-huhs” and “mmms” from the other end of the line.
“Ethan?” I’d
