“Looks like you’re getting a new auntie,” Maggie says to Braith.
“You are,” Gwyneth says. “Uncle Owen and Summer are engaged.” She picks up my left hand and tilts her head at her brother. “But it looks like the dork hasn’t got her a ring yet.”
“She has very particular tastes,” Owen says. “The right ring will be the one she designs herself.” He drapes an arm round my shoulder. “I’ve lined up a jeweler you can work with, someone who makes quirky one-offs. You’ll get along great.”
I smile at Gwyneth. “That’s the perfect and most thoughtful idea.”
“Can I be a flower girl?” Braith asks, as she mimes tossing petals from her egg basket.
She’s adorable. I can’t imagine it any other way. “Well, you obviously already have the technique down,” I tell her. “And I’d be honored.”
Behind her back, Jim sneaks a mini chocolate egg from her basket without her noticing.
“We need a toast,” Walker says.
Connor raises his hand. “I second that.”
“There’s still some champagne left from the housewarming party. I’ll go get it.” Walker tugs at Connor and Elliot’s sleeves. “And you guys can carry the glasses.”
As the three of them head up the grassy slope toward the house, Maggie’s gaze drifts toward the plaque on the bench. Her eyes rest there for a second before she pulls me into a hug and holds me tight. “I can’t tell you how happy I am, Summer. Welcome to the family.”
“Hate to break up the party.” Max makes one loud clap. “But I have to run.”
“Oh, Max,” Maggie cries, her shoulders sinking. “Why?”
“Got to go to Warm Springs. The small-town pen pushers at the council have an issue with our application to build a Yellow Barn.”
Whoa. I bet they have an issue. Warm Springs is a quaint small town, and Yellow Barn is a bargain grocery chain with large brightly colored stores.
Jim frowns. “You must have people to sort out that type of thing for you.”
“Usually. But this is the first store out in the sticks. And it’s my idea. The Yellow Barn execs already hate me for buying their company. And they’ve fought my plan to expand into small communities every step of the way. There’s no chance any of them would make any effort to push it through. They want to see it fail. To seemefail.”
He rubs his hands together in glee at the thought of proving them wrong. “Anyway, the council guy wants to meet me at eight tomorrow morning. Since it’s a four or five-hour drive, I’ll go now and spend the night.”
Max kisses his mom on the cheek.
“I’ll put the Lamborghini in the garage and take the Mercedes. The Lambo might not look very ‘small town.’”
He makes air quotes around “small town.”
“Neither will the Mercedes,” Owen says.
Have I really understood this right?
“Do you mean you’re building a Yellow Barn in Warm Springs?” I ask. “As in cute little Warm Springs? In Upstate New York?”
Judging by how Max’s eyebrows have shot up, guess I didn’t do a good job of disguising my alarm.
“I haven’t been there for a while, though.” I attempt a rescue. “It used to be a charming little place, with a pretty Main Street and lovely local stores. That’s all.”
There’s no way the residents will want a Yellow Barn monstrosity spoiling the scenery. And undoubtedly crushing some of their small businesses.
“It’s becoming cool,” Max says. “And growing. The hipsters who’re priced out of Brooklyn are moving up there. So there’s money to be made. No big grocery store’s moved in yet. I intend us to be the first.”
“The locals must be up in arms,” Owen says.
“Yes,” I join in. “The bakeries, produce stores, florists, and the like must be terrified you’ll put them out of business.”
