I let the silence fill the space between us while the chatter around us rose and fell in warm waves. For once, I didn’t feel like putting on an act. I wanted Rowan to see me standing in the middle of the chaos with both feet on the ground. She needed to know I wasn’t going anywhere.
Someone announced it was time for the official ribbon cutting, and we drifted toward the front door with the crowd. Rowan found a narrow gap by the window and slipped into it like she belonged there. I stood next to her and watched people clap while Sabrina sliced through a thick red ribbon with oversized scissors.
“Are you planning on hiding back here all morning?” I asked.
“I’m not hiding.” Her tone was brisk, but not cold. “I’m observing.”
“What are you observing?”
“That businesses that prepare properly tend to thrive.” Her gaze tracked Sabrina moving from table to table, a hug for Harvey, a joke for some teens, and a refill for a guy playing guitar in the corner. “She has her systems in place. The rest builds on that.”
“Systems,” I said. “Sounds familiar.”
“If you want people to trust you, you need to give them consistency.”
“You’re talking about coffee.” I took another sip. “Or maybe permits.”
“Both.”
I leaned my shoulder against the wall, close enough to feel her attention shift to me and away again. “You know I believe in this town, right?”
“You believe in your ideas,” she said. “Believing in the town means following through when no one is clapping.”
Damn. Why did this woman’s opinion of me matter so much? “You don’t think I have what it takes to see this project through?”
“I think you’ll show me one way or the other.”
Her lack of faith should have annoyed me. Instead, it made me determined to prove her, and everyone else who didn’t believe in me, wrong.
Behind us, a woman whispered. “Did you hear the latest episode? They called him The Butterfly again.”
Heat crawled up my neck. Rowan went still. She looked like she wanted to walk over and turn the volume down on their conversation.
“You know,”—I turned to face them, keeping my voice easy even though my jaw clenched—“butterflies don’t stay still because people never give them a place to land.”
They blinked like they hadn’t realized I’d heard them. One mumbled sorry. The other ducked her head.
Rowan opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “That was well said.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Was that a compliment, March?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
The line running through the shop shuffled forward. Sabrina’s laugh rolled across the room again, light and sure. Rowan’s gaze followed the sound, then came back to me with an expression I hadn’t seen before. Thoughtful. Like she was measuring me against something other than my reputation.
I sure as hell hoped that she liked what she found.
Rowan checked her watch. “I should get going. I had a chance to work on your packet and will email you the conditions tonight or tomorrow morning. If I need your signature on the revised sketch, I’ll stop by instead of sending it through the mail.”
“That works. I’ll be at the gym.”
“I figured,” she said.
We shuffled toward the door. Outside, Main Street sparkled under a hard blue sky. People lingered in small groups, cradling paper cups, talking about nothing and everything at the same time.
“It was good to see you,” I said.
“Like I said, supporting local businesses is part of my job.” She tucked her damn clipboard under her arm. “And this one deserves it.”
