I hear my sister’s footsteps fall away as she excuses herself and gives us a private moment.
With a resigned sigh, I say, “You’re not going to let me call it a diner anymore, are you?”
His grin is deadly. “My first and only decree as the new owner.”
“But you resigned,” I object, pushing his chest like I stand a chance at knocking him back.
“As chef,” he says, a glint in his eye. “And you didn’t ask me a damn thing.”
Toppling forward, I let my forehead crash into his firm body and relish the comfort of his arms closing around me.
“I’ll be happy to be owner slash executive chef,” he says, lips pressed to the top of my head. “As long as you keep managing the joint.”
I laugh against him, head rolling along his chef jacket.
“Yes,” I agree, pulling back to look at him again.
“Yes, what?” he asks, one brow raised.
“Yes, Chef.”
He leans down, hand buried in my curls, against the nape of my neck as he kisses me deeply, openly, in front of the plate glass windows that anyone in this town can walk by.
When he pulls back, something in me falls at the realization I’m hit with.
“I guess you got your Salt + Spice,” I say, voice sounding more wistful than I’m proud of.
He doesn’t respond with words, but the twisted half-smile on his face pushes the knife in a little deeper.
Why does this still sting?
It should feel like the best possible outcome, as close to a victory as even Rory could’ve dreamt up.
But my inner compass is still spinning.
At the end of the day, I’m still losing Heights Bites. I haven’t mourned the death of my dream yet. “I’m going to take a walk,” I tell him, heading for the front, then halting. “Actually, I’m taking today off. I’ll see you at the grand opening.”
Before he can stop me, I’m out the door.
There’s only so mucha few hours of walking followed by a few hours of gardening and some uneasy rest can do for a soul that’s been cracked. They gave me space and perspective, sure, but this might be a wound that only time will heal over.
Still, nothing would make me miss the grand opening today. The hustle and bustle of the event is even larger than I thought it would be. And I expected this to be Rory’s best work yet, which is saying a lot.
Main Street is packed with pedestrians, it’s the closest the Heights will ever get to Times Square for the ball drop, but without everyone having to wear diapers.
Cameras from news crews are set up in front of the podium and the makeshift stage that’s at the top of the street, where the oversized ceremonial scissors wait for my sister’s opening snip. Lined up behind her up there are the owners of all the downtown businesses. I can’t help but let one side of my mouth rise when I see our stepfather up there, beaming with pride at Rory.
Based on the picture texted to Rory and I a few minutes ago, I think our father is somewhere near the first row, probably beaming up at my little sister too.
On stage, Wilder towers over them all, chef jacket on, bandana tied in place to hold his black hair out of his face. My stare lingers on him longer than I give it permission to, soaking in the way he fits in somehow. Cracking jokes with Duke and the old man who owns the hardware store, even the version of me from months ago would have to admit he looks like he belongs here.
My gaze must go on too long, because his eyes snap to mine, like he can feel me watching. I flash him the briefest of smiles, let him know I’m okay—or I will be—and then I turn and bob through the crowd, disappearing. Pretending I can’t hear him calling after me.
Ducking through the crowd, I’m wrangled in briefly by Weston, long enough to hug Amelia and nod to Billie before I escape their happy little family and fall to the back of the crowd. Far enough away that when I see that new sign revealed, see Salt + Spice make its debut, no one will hear the sobs that might escape me.
The bittersweet feeling that’s overtaken me these past twenty-four hours, it’s not so heavy that I can’t see the rainbow through the storm. I’ll be able to put on a smile when we open tomorrow, while still grieving the dream I lost.
My sister, up there on that platform as the ceremony starts, she deserves all of the attention I have. What she’s done to this place, for our people… I don’t have the words. So instead, I listen to hers when the mayor is done introducing her.
