"But what if—"
"Lucy. Stop catastrophizing. You're having a bad week. You're not failing. The license will come through. Your sous chef will heal. You'll find another server. And the restaurant will open, and it will be amazing."
"How are you so sure?"
"Because I've watched you work. I've seen your determination. And I know that when Lucy Chen commits to something, she makes it happen."
Lucy wanted to believe him. Wanted to feel his certainty instead of her own doubt.
"I'm scared," she admitted. "More scared than I was in Paris. Because this time, if I fail, there's no excuse. I'm home, I have support, I'm doing exactly what I want to do. If it doesn't work—"
"It's going to work. But Lucy—even if it didn't, even if Margaret's failed spectacularly, you'd still be okay. You have us. You have me. Your worth isn't tied to the restaurant's success."
"I know. Intellectually, I know. But—"
"But emotionally, it feels like everything is riding on this."
"Yes."
Jake pulled back to look at her. "Remember what you told me when I was deciding about Nashville? That changing your mind isn't failure, it's growth?"
"Yeah."
"Same applies here. If Margaret's doesn't work exactly how you planned, if you have to pivot or adjust or even start over—that's not failure. That's just business. What matters is that you tried. That you were brave enough to build something from nothing."
Lucy hugged him tighter. "Thank you. For talking me down from the ledge."
"Always. That's what partners do."
The next day, Lucy got a call from the state representative's office. They'd expedited her liquor license. It would be finalized by March first.
Lucy called Jake immediately. "It came through! The license!"
"See? I told you it would work out."
"Don't say I told you so."
"I absolutely will say I told you so. I'm saying it right now. I told you so."
Lucy laughed, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. The license was coming. Her sous chef was healing ahead of schedule. Mae had already hired a replacement server.
Margaret's was happening.
Really, truly happening.
March arrived with the first hints of spring and the start of playoffs.
The Wolves had finished the regular season 26-10, the best record in franchise history. They'd earned home ice advantage for the first round.
"This is it," Jake told his team before their first playoff game. "Everything we've worked for all season comes down to the next few weeks. But here's the thing—you've already proven yourselves. You've already exceeded expectations. Now it's time to have fun."
"Fun?" Owen asked. "In playoffs?"
"Fun. You love hockey, right? That's why you play. So go out there and play like you love it. The rest will take care of itself."
They won their first playoff game 5-2. Emma was in the stands, screaming so loud Jake could hear her from the bench.
After the game, she ran to the glass. "Coach Jake! We won! Are you going to win the championship?"
