“No, no, you have a great laugh,” I say, and I mean it. Her whole face lights up when she laughs, genuine and unguarded, and I find myself wanting to make her do it again.
Which is not a thought I should be having about my daughter’s teacher.
I catch myself staring and look away, rubbing the back of my neck. The conversation is flowing too easily. I could stand here talking to her all morning, which is exactly why I need to get back to the actual reason we’re here.
“Well, the place is ready whenever you want it,” I say. “Want me to show you the practical stuff? Heating, hot water, all the details?”
We spend the next half hour going through everything: where the thermostat is, how to work the vintage radiators, which breaker controls what. For two people who barely know each other, I would have expected awkward silences or forced small talk, but there’s none of that. And while I try to focus on practical details a new tenant might need, the conversation keeps wandering away from apartment logistics and back to personal topics.
We talk more about growing up with so many siblings. She asks about good hiking spots since she loves getting outside. I tell her about a few of my favorite trails. She mentions going to the farmers market yesterday and loving it, how Seattle has great markets too but she rarely had time for them there.
“Seriously, so much fresh produce!” She smiles. “Though I’m a terrible cook, so I stick to things that can just be eaten right away.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed.” I laugh. “Chloe said you brought cookies for the class a few times.”
“Oh, those came straight from the bakery,” she says without a trace of shame. “I am truly bad at cooking, and I’ve never had the motivation to fix it because I kind of hate it.” She shrugs cheerfully. “I love eating though.”
I laugh. “Well, there’s plenty of great restaurants here. My sister-in-law owns The Black Lantern. It’s technically a bar but not really. More dog and kid friendly with board games and trivia nights and really good food. And you’re welcome at my restaurant anytime. First responders, veterans, and teachers get a big discount.”
She perks up at that. “That’s really nice. I haven’t made it to The Black Lantern yet, but I did try to get into your place and it was completely booked. You’re pretty popular.”
“Just text me anytime. I’ll make sure you get a table. Chloe would boot out a regular for you. She adores you that much.”
She laughs. “I don’t have enough pride to turn that down. I’ve been living off microwave dinners, so I’ll use any and all connections to get good food.”
I laugh with her and realize I’m enjoying the idea of her coming to the restaurant far more than I should. A small warning flare goes off in my head. “I should probably go,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “I’ve been keeping you too long, and speaking of the restaurant, I need to get some work done there.”
She glances at her watch. “Oh wow. It feels like I’ve only been here ten minutes. Sorry I kept you talking.”
I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. It was nice.” I straighten up from the counter. “Either Danny or I will email you the lease agreement tonight, and you can move in whenever works. First of the month, or before, doesn’t matter to me.”
She smiles, slinging her tote bag back over her shoulder. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much for showing me the place.”
I walk her to the door, pulling it open and stepping out into the hallway with her. “Anytime. See you around, Emma.”
She gives me one last smile. “You too, Theo.”
And with that she’s gone, leaving behind the faint scent of apricot and an empty apartment that somehow feels less empty than before.
CHAPTER 4
Emma
Harbor & Ash is packed, and my sister is already on her second drink.
The restaurant is beautiful—warm wood and amber lighting, the kind of atmosphere that makes you want to settle in and stay for hours. There’s a hum of conversation and laughter all around us, the clink of glasses and silverware creating a soundtrack that feels almost musical.
“Okay,” Sophie says, pointing her fork at me. “I take back every skeptical thing I said about you moving out to the middle of nowhere. This place is incredible.”
She takes another bite of our appetizer, a fig and prosciutto crostini with a soy-balsamic glaze, and her eyes roll back dramatically. “Oh my god. This is obscene.”
“I know, right?” I reach over and steal one of the cherries from her Manhattan. “And it’s not the middle of nowhere. It’s a charming small town with character and personality.”
“Be that as it may, it’s hours from a decent airport.” She bats my hand away when I reach for the second cherry.
“Worth it. I’m living my Lorelai Gilmore dreams. Everyone’s so nice here, too. It’s kind of disorienting, honestly.”
“Happy to get away from the drama with our sisters?”
