CORA
“Miss Delaney,” the officer says calmly, “I apologize for the inconvenience today, but we unfortunately have to investigate every complaint no matter how trivial.”
I nod and take a steadying breath because Iknowthis. Deep down in my soul I know this, and I appreciate him trying to clear this up as quickly as possible.
“Thank you, and I understand. It’s just frustrating because I got the permit and,”—I gesture toward the street—“I picked this location so that wewouldn’tcause an issue. Safety is my top priority.”
He gives me a sympathetic smile. “Can you think of anyone who might want to cause a problem for you?”
My mind reels at the question, and even though I want to shout Talon’s name from the rooftops, I don’t. And I don’t know why because it hurts, that old wound reminding me that even after all this time, we’re not friends.
Even knowing that, I thought I was doing something good for him, and me, today—an olive branch of sorts.
“Someone is leaving anonymous comments on my social media posts, but it could be anyone.”
Scribbling something on his notepad, he tucks it into his pocket and then hands me his card. “If you think of anything, just give this number a call.”
I thank him again and head back to the truck as he drives down the road.
“Did you get it all straightened out?” Aspen asks as I pull the door closed behind me and slump against it.
“Yes.”
“So we’re all set? No issues?”
“No issues,” I confirm.
“So what’s the face for?”
“Because I want Taste of Magnolia to do well,” I say, standing to my full height and waving my arms around. “I want to rejoice in being back in my hometown and doing what I love in the only place that’s ever been home.”
Aspen opens her mouth to speak but I cut her off. “I have some troll making snide comments on my social media posts, and if that wasn’t bad enough, now they’re complaining to the police!”
“I know it’s frustrating, but it all worked out and right now?—”
“And right now, I need to go yell at the person responsible,” I growl as I grab my sweatshirt from my bag.
“Whoa, what are you talking about?” Aspen says, partially concerned and a little amused.
“It’s obviously Talon. Who else would try and sabotage us?”
“Honestly,” she starts slowly in the way that makes me know I’m not going to like what she’s about to say, “I find it hard to believe that a grown man is heckling us. His sister brings her daughter here, right? She has that mess of blonde curls and those bright turquoise eyes and always gets a cookie.”
My heart squeezes a little at the affection in Aspen’s voice because I feel the same way about Bristol and Navy.
But that’s not who we’re talking about.
“I know it’s him, and I’m going to go give him a piece of my mind.”
“I’m not gonna stop you,” she says, her Tennessee accent out in full force, “but I think you’re crazier than apple pie in a truck bed.”
My mouth opens and closes as I stare at her because—what?
“That’s not a thing.”
Aspen shrugs and turns back toward the window as a car pulls up. “Tell that to everyone in my hometown.”
Shaking my head, because I don’t have time to unpack all of that, I give her a wave as I open the door. “I’ll be back.”
