I’m watching a big storm develop.
Monica rolled her eyes and took a picture of Main Street.
Monica
It’s not snowing here. Just a bit cloudy. I’m fine. I’ve talked to him. Getting back on the highway now.
Bianca
Maybe find a hotel room for tonight. Do they have hotels there?
Was it too soon to roll her eyes again? Of course there were hotels…somewhere. Maybe not right here in Pine Harbour.
And the idea of staying nearby for another day was tempting. Just in case he called her. She wouldn’t be able to tell him,no, I can’t come back for another chat, I’m halfway across the Atlantic, off to a villa, you see…
God. That sounded insufferable even inside her own head.
She opened a vacation rentals app on her phone. There were a few cottages listed nearby, but none that were available for today or tomorrow. And the nearest hotel was forty miles away, almost back at the airport.
She didn’t feel right being that far away from Josh.Not Josh.From…the conversation. From the process.
Maybe she could pay one of the locals to let her have their house for the night.
Huffing, she glanced out her window. She’d parked in front ofBake Sale!and there was an open sign in the window.
She could use a cookie right now. Cookies made everything better. She’d earned one, after all.
Inside, there was a short South Asian woman with a long, dark ponytail. “Welcome to Bake Sale,” she said. “What can I get you?”
A five star hotel would be amazing.Monica flicked her gaze over the coffee listings on an overhead blackboard. “Double macchiato with oat milk and maple syrup. And a chocolate chip cookie. Actually, make that two cookies, please.”
“That’ll be five-seventy-five,” the other woman said, ringing it up before starting the espresso.
Monica tapped her credit card as the door to the bakery swung open, and a tall white woman with a blonde bob rushed in—and skidded to a stop. “Hi,” she said breathlessly, looking straight at Monica. Then she jerked her attention at the woman behind the counter. “Bailey.”
“Isla,” Bailey replied carefully.
Then they exchanged a wordless back and forth that ended with them turning as one to smile at Monica.
“I’m Isla,” the blonde said. Monica had already guessed that she was one of Josh’s sisters-in-law, and had probably been in the blurry sea of people at the marina. “And this is Bailey.”
“Got that much,” Monica said. “I’m Monica.”
Isla circled around the counter and grabbed a stack of glossy pamphlets Monica hadn’t noticed before—but one of them fluttered across the counter and to the ground in front of the glass display cabinet, as Isla shoved the rest behind the counter.
Bailey stepped back from the counter and took off her apron. “Nice to meet you, Monica. I have to dash. You’re good for the last hour, Isla?”
“Yep, you’re good to go!” Isla clapped her hands together. “Good luck with the meeting.”
Bailey came around the counter and quickly leaned over to pick up the flyer on the floor. Monica saw Josh’s familiar face in a featured photo before Bailey shoved the paper in a tote bag.
Once Bailey was out the door, Isla slid Monica’s coffee across the counter. And she didn’t let go of the cup when Monica reached for it.
“So…” The baker had a funny expression on her face.
Monica’s stomach sank.
Isla knew who was standing across the counter from her.
