The room tilts because I still haven’t figured out how to fix this. “Less than three weeks?”
“He said he needs to be paid in full. No more payment plans. Either way, we’re closing. But I don’t want him to take them to court.”
I check my banking app with shaking fingers, already knowing what I’ll see. “I don’t have it.”
“We need a miracle.”
“I’ll figure something out.” But even I don’t quite believe my own words.
My brother is quiet for a long moment. “You made mepromise to tell you everything that’s going on. To keep Mom and Dad in the dark. That it would ruin them. You said you’d take care of it. But it’s time to let go. They have to accept it. You can’t save the restaurant alone.”
After we hang up, I stare at my reflection in Grandma’s antique mirror. Dark circles form shadows under my eyes. Tangled hair that’s long overdue for a trim. A woman failing her family, terrified of ruining things with Patton, drowning in secrets and bets I never should have made.
Something has to give.
But it can’t be tonight. Tonight is my date with Patton, and I just need one thing in my life that sparkles instead of explodes.
By lunch, I’m vibrating with anxiety. When Peony texts asking if I want to grab food at Huck’s, I practically sprint out the door.
I find her at a booth in the back. “You look like you need a hug, a mug of something warm, a cozy blanket, and a day off,” she announces after taking one look at me.
“I wouldn’t object.” But it’s an impossibility.
I order a grilled cheese because I revert to my favorite childhood meal when stressed. She gets the soup of the day.
Peony leans forward. “Feel free to use me as your sounding board.”
She’s still not wearing her wedding ring and I sense I should ask her about what’s going on, but she goads me, so I tell her about Operation Make Maverick Smile.
“That can’t end well.”
“The goal was to make him smile at the Fireman’s Ball. Now it feels really, really wrong.”
“Because it is and because you caught feelings.”
I wince. “Yes. I think so. I mean, I’ve never quite felt this way before, so I don’t exactly have something to compare it to.”
“How does it feel?”
I wave my hand in front of my stomach. “It’s all fluttery in here.” I lift my hand toward my chest. “Here.” Then, gesturing to my head, I finish with, “And up here is a mess.”
“Then tell him about the bet first before he finds out another way.” She squeezes my hand. “If what you have is real, it’ll survive the truth.”
I want to believe her. But wanting something and believing it are two very different things and quite frankly, she doesn’t look so sure herself.
The afternoon passes in a blur of paperwork, accompanied by a slow drip of worry. Every time I try to focus on solving the restaurant problem, my mind circles back to Patton. The bakery. Tonight’s date. The way his kiss felt like sprinkles on a Crush Cake in what’s otherwise been a challenging season of my life.
At five o’clock, I’m ready to race home to get ready, but Thomas needs help closing out the accounting software without losing his work, and then Pauline decides now is the time to tell me about her latest knitting project. By the time I return to the cottage, I have less than fifteen minutes to get ready. Thankfully, my grandmother is on the phone, bickering with Judy about cocoa percentages in chocolate.
After quickly showering, then putting on jeans and a vintage cashmere sweater that belonged to my Nonna, I style my hair in loose waves and spritz myself with perfume. Expecting Patton to knock any moment, I find Grandma Joyce is in the kitchen stirring something in the slow cooker. She must’ve gotten off the phone with Judy.
Time to get out of here before I’m subject to questioning. I’ll just wait outside.
When I open the door, Patton’s arm is lifted as if ready to knock. He looks devastating in dark jeans and a pea coat,holding a bouquet that definitely didn’t come from the gas station.
“For you,” he says.
“Thank you.” I take the flowers—beautiful winter blooms of burgundy roses, white anemones, and sprigs of evergreen. “These are gorgeous.”
