Maybe it’s someone in town. A regular at Blissful Brews. Someone I see every week at the grocery store. Or… who knows? Really, it could beanyone.
If I let myself think about it too much, I’ll drive myself crazy. So instead, I’m trying really hard to focus on the positive, just like the counselor advised me during our video appointment two days ago.
I’m safe. I have a team of five highly-trained security specialists protecting me. I have Alec investigating my case, along with the help of some of his computer expert friends. I have a maybe-boyfriend who makes my heart flutter and my body come alive again.
Oh, and the damage to Blissful Brews isn’t as bad as I feared. Frank called to give me an update, and after assuring me he and Wendy didn’t blame me for anything, he said,“It’s mostly broken glass, honey. Nothing we can’t fix in a day or two. And really, I’ve been meaning to replace those windows with double-pane glass. Better in the winter, you know? And now insurance will cover it. So it’s all good. Don’t you worry.”
I still feel bad about it. And I still hate that Wendy was hurt. She’s okay, fortunately—it just took sixstitches to close the cut on her arm, and she’s already back at work.
I’m not back at work, obviously. Not until the would-be killer is caught. Instead, I’m making extra money helping Alec with some of his admin tasks—updating his website, organizing emails—all stuff that can be done remotely from my cabin.
“I feel happy,” I finally tell Winter. “I know it seems crazy with everything else going on. But I do.”
“It doesn’t sound crazy,” she replies. “It sounds like the same thing that happened to me. And to Lark and Rory. Sometimes love finds us in the most unexpected of circumstances.”
A beat later, Winter claps her hand over her mouth. “I’m not saying you’re in love. Yet. Or at all. I know it’s soon. And?—”
But she’s saved by a series of three knocks at the front door.
Still, my thoughts stall on that one little word.Love.
Could I be falling in love with Alec already?
I’ve never been in love before, so I’m not sure. I’ve cared about old boyfriends before. I even flirted with the idea of love, but I never made it there with any of them. Love was just this vague concept I thought I’d know when I finally felt it.
And now? The idea doesn’t seem as ambiguous anymore. It feels like it might be real.
As I reach for my phone to check the securitycamera feed, Winter glances at her watch. “Oh. It’s just about that time, isn’t it?”
“What time?”
She grins. “Time for Alec to come over for dinner.”
Indeed, Alec is standing on the porch, holding a takeout bag from Mariano’s in one hand and another gift bag in the other. He flashes a smile at the camera, no doubt knowing I’m looking at him. My heart flutters.
“It’s Alec,” I agree. Pushing up from the couch, I head to the front door. “But you can stay. He always brings more than enough food.”
Winter hops up. With a bright smile, she says, “And interrupt your dinner date? No way. And anyway, Enzo should be finishing up at the store soon. So I’ll go home to wait for him.”
I feel bad basically kicking Winter out, so I offer weakly, “We could all have dinner together...”
Just before we reach the door, she slings her arm around my shoulder and hugs me. “Hazel. Team dinners are great. But somehow, I don’t think Alec would appreciate me and Enzo intruding on your date.”
As I fuss with the locks, she adds in a conspiratorial tone, “I know I said I wouldn’t tell you what to do. But I’ll make a suggestion. Go with your heart. I did, and it brought me more happiness than I ever dreamed.”
Her suggestion keeps repeating while Alec and Winter exchange quick pleasantries at the door. And again while I greet Alec with a hug and a kiss before inviting him inside.
Go with your heart.
It brought me more happiness than I ever dreamed.
Could the same thing happen to me?
After years of believing I didn’t deserve it, could I find a happy ending just like Winter, Lark, and Rory have?
I’m still spinning the thoughts in my mind as Alec sets out all the takeout containers across the dining table. “They had lobster ravioli on special,” he says, gesturing at one of the containers. “And I remembered you saying how much you like lobster. So I thought you might enjoy it.”
“I do,” I reply. Leaning against him, I kiss his cheek. “I love lobster. When I was a kid, my dad would take me to Cape Cod every summer. We’d go to this little fish shack in Hyannis where they had the best lobster rolls. I still think about them sometimes.”
