6
LACY
Ipaste on a smile as the lunch rush hits. Corporate types ordering flat whites and croissants while I mentally catalog inventory, supplier invoices, and the fact that my boyfriend just got suspended because of me.
Not boyfriend. Too soon for that word. Too fast.
Except it doesn't feel too fast when I remember last night. His hands. His voice. The way he looked at me like I was something precious instead of practical.
Focus. Work. Survive today.
"Lacy?" The voice cuts through my spiral. "You okay?"
I glance up. Tess leans against the counter, designer sunglasses perched in her hair, expression sharp with concern.
"Fine. Just busy."
"Liar." She grabs a muffin without asking. "I saw the blogger comments. The civic office called me for a statement. Want to tell me what's happening before I have to spin this blind?"
"Stone got pulled from the placement."
"What?" The muffin drops back onto the plate. "When?"
"This morning. Some councilwoman decided we're a conflict of interest."
Tess goes quiet. Calculating. She's good at this, reading situations, finding angles. It's what makes her brilliant at PR and occasionally exhausting as a friend.
"They're not wrong," she says finally.
My jaw tightens. "He's helping with the business. We're both adults. There's no actual conflict."
"Except he's assigned here through a city program. You're the placement host. The optics are terrible."
"Since when do you care about optics over people?"
"Since people I love are about to get dragged for something stupid." Her voice softens. "I'm not saying it's fair. I'm saying you need to think strategically. Blair's building a case and you just handed her ammunition."
The espresso machine hisses. I focus on steaming milk. Anything to avoid the truth in what she's saying.
"What do you want me to do? Pretend I don't feel anything? Send him away?"
"I want you to be careful." Tess reaches across the counter, squeezes my hand. "You fall fast, Lace. You always have. Remember Jordan? Three weeks and you were picking out apartments."
"That was different."
"Was it? You saw potential. You committed. Then reality hit and you spent six months untangling yourself."
Jordan. My ex before Evan. The musician with big dreams and bigger debts. I'd loved his passion until it turned into resentment when I wouldn't fund his third failed album.
"Stone's not Jordan."
"No. He's an orc from out of town with a temporary placement and political complications. Which might actually be worse."
The words land like slaps. I yank my hand back.
"You're supposed to be on my side."
"I am. That's why I'm saying this." Tess straightens. "Look, I like Stone. He's sweet and genuine and clearly gone for you. But you're already stressed about money, Aunt Rene, keeping this place afloat. Adding a relationship that's under public scrutiny? That's not smart."
