“Like what?”
“Like I’m a stranger.”
I took a breath, grounding myself. “You’re not a stranger, Sabrina.”
She didn’t answer, just slid the full cup of coffee across the counter.
I reached for it just to keep my hands busy. “You coming to the vendor meeting tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there,” she said, still not making eye contact. Then after a beat, “Just… don’t believe everything he says.”
“The podcaster?”
She nodded. “He’s good at twisting things around and making people out to be worse than they are.”
I studied her. Something was off. “Why are you so worried about what he might say?”
She hesitated. Just a flicker—but I caught it. “Because it’s not just gossip anymore,” she said. “It’s people’s lives.”
And maybe… hers. But I couldn’t figure out why. Unless she’d told him something she shouldn’t have. Or unless… no. That didn’t track.
I took a sip of coffee. “You didn’t talk to him, but you still think it’s going to blow up?”
Her lips curved into a strained smile. “In my experience, secrets don’t stay buried long in Hard Timber.”
Something in her tone didn’t sit right, like she was leaving more unsaid. Before I could press her for more, the door swung open behind me, and a burst of cold air swept in with a trio of teens. They were laughing and talking about pumpkin spice and Wi-Fi passwords.
Sabrina straightened, the mask sliding back into place. “What can I get started for you?”
And just like that, I was dismissed. But not forgotten. Because when I turned to leave, I caught her reflection in the bakery case glass. And she was still watching me.
I should’ve felt better. We’d talked… sort of. That counted for something, didn’t it? But years of being awkward around each other wasn’t something that could be fixed with a few words. And the way she’d looked at me… like she was hiding something… only made it worse.
I thought about calling my brother, but Alex was in Vegas for an away game and probably already on the ice. That left me alone with my nothing but questions running through my head. I was used to it, only now it felt like the answers I was looking for might wreck me.
CHAPTER 4
SABRINA
The next morning, I showed up at Morning Wood an hour earlier than usual, hoping to get ahead of the day before it got ahead of me. The familiar ritual of grinding beans and steaming milk should have been soothing, but my hands shook as I measured out the coffee. Every sound made me jump… the espresso machine's hiss, the front door's wind chime, even my own breathing.
I'd barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Trace leaning against my counter like he was asking for honesty I wasn't sure I could give.
By six-thirty, the shop smelled like my signature dark roast and brown sugar scones. I'd made extra, partly because stress baking was my coping mechanism, and partly because I had a feeling I'd need the extra sugar to get through another day with Mimi.
My phone buzzed on the counter. A text from Marla.
Marla: Mimi moved the meeting to 10am. Can you bring coffee and breakfast pastries for 6?
I stared at the screen. Six people. There were only three of us, four if I counted Trace. That meant the podcaster and his producer would probably be there.
Another buzz.
Marla: I asked Trace to stop by to help you bring things over. Thanks, honey!
Of course she did. Because the universe had a sick sense of humor. I was about to text back to tell her I could handle it on my own, but Paige burst through the back door, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “You are not going to freaking believe what I just heard at the gas station."
Another day meant more gossip. I shoved my phone in my back pocket and crossed my arms over my chest. “Try me."
