His face is uncertain as he watches for my reaction, but I don’t know what to say. My heart is doing something strange inside my chest. I can’t believe he did this. It’s one thing to say a few encouraging words about my dream, but he went out of his way to show me that it’snotjust a dream. That it could be real.
“Luke,” I murmur. “I can’t…” I trail off, searching for the right words. He looks crestfallen and I shake my head vigorously. “No—” A laugh tickles my throat. “I mean, I can’t believe you did this.” I rise from my chair and sit in his lap. I probably shouldn’t, given we aren’t in private, but at this momentnothingcould stop me from touching him.
A grin breaks across his face and he wraps his arms around me, visibly relieved. “Oh, shit. I thought you were mad at me or something.”
“No.” I take his face in my hands and press my lips hard against his. “How could I be mad? You went to all this trouble.”
“So what do you think?”
I look around the place, seeing it through new eyes. It is a great space, and I could absolutely see it working. My body buzzes with excited energy as I visualize how my floor plan would work in here, what the walls would look like painted a warm, golden yellow. All those details, scrawled on that napkin in my bag… I can see them coming to life in this space.
Luke places the folder in my hands and I flick it open, running my eyes over the contents. There are pages of numbers and notes, some typed, some hand-written, all—more or less—unintelligible to me. There are a few numbers I can make sense of, though, and I’m pretty sure I’d have enough money to set this place up and get it running. One of the good things about having next to no social life over the past decade is that I’ve accumulated a very healthy savings account.
“This is great, but…” I glance up at Luke and sigh. “There are already board game cafes in the city.”
“There are, but none in the East Village or Lower East Side. I think it would do really well around here.” He pauses before adding quietly, “You could totally do this, Harriet. I’m happy to loan you the money to get set up if you need.”
I glance at him in surprise. He would loan me the money? Why would he do that for me?
I shake the thought away, not daring to let myself think it. “That’s really sweet, thank you. But I have enough.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “That’s fantastic,” he says, squeezing me. “Did you ever think of what you might call the place?”
“Not really. But I like the idea of a play on words. Like… Cakes and Ladders.”
He looks puzzled. “Cakes and Ladders?”
“Yeah, like the game Snakes and Ladders, where you go up or down depending on—”
“Oh, right. We call itChutesand Ladders here, so it would have to be something else. Like…” He rubs his chin, thinking. “Chutes and Lattes.”
“I like that! What about Noughts and Coffee?” I’m pretty pleased with this one, but Luke looks confused again. “Seriously? Noughts and Crosses! It’s the game with the crosses and zeros, and—”
“You mean Tic-Tac-Toe.”
I huff in mock indignation. “You Americans and your weird names for things.”
A warm laugh rumbles in his chest, and he presses his mouth to mine.
“Game of Scones,” I murmur against his lips.
He draws away with a chuckle. “I think that’s the one.”
“I know you’re kidding but I kind of love it. Game of Scones,” I repeat to myself, looking around the place again, imagining it as my own. When I glance back at Luke, his mouth is curved in an affectionate smile. “Why have you gone to all this trouble for me, to show me I could do this?”
He shrugs. “I guess I know what it’s like to not have someone support your dream. It’s pretty soul-destroying. I wanted to give you what I didn’t have.”
“You really believe I could do this.”
He tilts his head to one side, raising a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Absolutely. I think youshoulddo this.”
I look down again at the folder, feeling my heart swell. I’m struck by a sudden, powerful sense of how much I want this.Reallywant this. Not just that Iwantthis, but that I coulddoit. I could.
But…
I release an uneasy breath and stand from Luke’s lap, clutching the folder. “You do realize I live in New Zealand,” I mutter, inspecting a wall to avoid looking at him.
“Well, yes. But you could move.” He pushes to his feet. “Your sister already lives here. She’d love to have you here permanently.”
