“Good for you.” She reached across the table but drew back before making contact. “I mean that. I am happy for you.”
“Just not happy to see me?” What he’d meant as a joke landed flat. Had Willow told her what his real job was in Brookwell? “You look incredible,” he said, awkwardly changing the subject. “How are things going?”
“Great!” she replied too quickly. “Mom’s illness was tough,” she admitted. “But we got through it.” She absently stroked the ring on her index finger. “I miss her every day, but the shop keeps me busy.” Her gaze locked with his. “Hard as it was to leave school, I’m glad I came home to help her. We were able to make memories and celebrate her life—short as it was.”
“That’s good,” he murmured. Sympathy filled his heart, along with no small amount of guilt that she’d dealt with those challenges alone.
But if he’d dropped out with her, he might’ve helped on some levels, but he would’ve dragged a load of financial baggage with him. Now, he was in a better position to help her. He could hire someone to manage the shop if she wanted to go back. He could connect her with people to update her brand, take her business online, or implement any number of the ideas he had.
“Did you finish your degree?”
“Not at Duke.” She lifted her coffee to her lips, leaving him to wonder about the full story there.
“So.” She set her coffee cup down, looking nervous. “Levi Garrison is your client here in town, right?”
“And his fiancée is your best friend.” As much as he wanted to dive into the strudel, his stomach was tied up in knots. He had no idea what Willow might’ve told her. “Has Willow kept you up to speed on the opening of the new Palmetto Perk?”
Grace’s gaze darted toward the window. “Only the basics.” She tapped her cup. “Opening day is next week. The coffee service and pastry exchange is set. That kind of thing.”
He should feel better, but something warned him she was holding back.
“Was Levi the investor you mentioned?”
“Yes, actually.” Cal switched topics seamlessly, having loads of practice with clients who would flip from one aspect of a campaign to another. “He wanted someone focused primarily on his many business interests. So that’s what I do, but the team serves a diverse clientele.”
“That’s great, Cal. I am happy for you.” Her smile was sincere and that tension in his chest loosened. “I should get going. If you need?—”
“Grace,” he interrupted, needing to tell her the rest before she heard it somewhere else.
The bell over the door jingled and a woman walked in, her gaze locking on Grace immediately. “There you are!” The slender woman beamed as she walked straight for them, sunlight dancing in her golden hair. She stuck out her hand to Cal. “Holly Brooks, editor of the Brookwell Bugle.” She pointed to the logo on her shirt. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“No problem. Calvin Lynwood,” he said, shaking her hand.
“A pleasure,” Holly replied. She turned to Grace. “I wanted to talk to you and Connie about legacy seats on the festival committee. Do you have some time today?”
Grace nodded. “I need to get the shop open, but swing by anytime and we can talk.”
“Great. I’ll be over once I get Connie’s thoughts on the issue.” The slender woman turned to him, her vivid blue eyes dancing. “And I’ll catch up with you and Levi later this week.”
“Okay.” Whatever served Levi’s plans, Cal was on board.
The woman turned away, aiming for the counter.
“She’s a whirlwind,” Cal murmured.
Grace agreed. “And another good friend. Have a good day.”
“One second.” He gathered up his strudel and coffee, trailing after her. “Should I expect a hard-hitting interview?” he asked, when they were out on the sidewalk.
“Of course not.”
“Just in case.” He fell into step beside her. “Levi’s business interests brought me here.”
Once more her gaze darted to the coffee shop across the street. “So you’ve said.”
“But also…” He hesitated. He never shared client details without permission. “Um. Is there more than one festival committee?” Maybe this wouldn’t be an issue at all.
“Sure. We have a fall festival that grows each year. And there’s the holiday block party, too. But Holly was talking about the annual Brookwell Music Festival in August. First meeting is tomorrow night.”
