Grayson: Good, because I would have called no matter what time.
I didn’t respondand instead locked my phone to stop myself from calling him right then and there. Nobody liked a clinger. Even though clinging was all I wanted to do with Grayson. I wanted to hear his voice and feel his touch with a desperation that knocked the breath out of me.
“Who are you talking to?” Willa leaned over, making grabby motions at my phone.
I held it up to show her the black screen. “Nobody.”
“His name doesn’t start with Gray and end in son?”
Ignoring my annoying niece, I turned my attention back to the conversation at the table, getting lost in catching up with everyone after my weeks away.
The party was winding down after the sun set, everyone coming over to say their good-byes before heading home for the evening. The last guest left a little after ten, and Willa, Kinsley, Landon, and Jameson helped me clean up. Jameson took my bags up to my apartment, and I carried the picture Grayson had given me.
After convincing Jameson to help me hang it on the wall, I waved good-bye to everyone, promising we’d have breakfast together the next day.
And when Grayson called me close to midnight to say good night and tell me he missed me, I had the first spark of hope that we might be okay after all.
Fifteen
“Willa,” I called from my office. “Did you open a new email account again?”
I leaned back in my chair to look into the kitchen, where she was currently making muffins. She looked up from preparing the batter with a frown etched onto her forehead. “That only happened once.”
“Twice.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Twice. But I haven’t done it since. Promise.”
I frowned at my screen, reading the email again. “So you didn’t pretend to be an investor interested in meeting about opening a bakery?”
She dropped the bowl she was holding to scoop dough into paper cups. “Shut the front door.”
“So you think it’s legit?”
Willa came into my office, covered in flour, wiping her hands on her apron. She read the email over my shoulder, then clapped her hands, sending flour all over me.
“This is amazing. Message them back.”
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. “You sure I should meet with them? It’s odd. And totally out of the blue.”
“If nothing else, it’ll give us an excuse for a girls’ trip to Denver.”
I chewed my lower lip, trying to shut up my inner critic telling me this was too good to be true.
Willa simply wheeled me to the side and took my place in front of the computer. “Here, let me.”
She typed out a response, not giving me a chance to protest before hitting Send. “Done. Can you give me a hand with the apple cinnamon muffins? I’m running behind.”
“What did you do?” I sputtered, blinking at the screen. “I hadn’t decided if I want to meet with them.”
Willa rolled her eyes. “It would have taken you until next year to decide. You don’t have that much time. You’re not the youngest anymore. Time is ticking.”
I followed her into the kitchen, putting my apron on, then washing my hands. “I’m only a few years older than you.”
“Emphasis on older.”
I threw batter at her that she didn’t even bother to dodge. It landed with a splat on her arm. “At least you still have terrible aim.”
“That was meant to land there.”
