“What about medical bills?” Aggie offered. “Maybe she was sick and didn’t want to worry us.”
A chill ran down Cora’s spine at the thought.Could Lolly have been hiding something like that from them? From her?
Winston shook his head. “I don’t think so. Lolly was as healthy as a horse. Remember last Fourth of July when she out-danced everyone at the town picnic?”
The image brought a reluctant smile to Cora’s face. Lolly had always been full of life, right until the end. None of this added up.
“Okay,” Cora said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s try to think this through. Leonard, can you tell us anything else about this loan? What was the money used for?”
Leonard shuffled through his papers. “I’m afraid I don’t have that information. The agreement only outlines the amount and the terms.”
Cora frowned, trying to piece it all together. “So we have no idea why Lolly took out a loan or what she did with the money?”
Leonard nodded miserably. “That’s right. And without paying off this debt, you won’t be able to sell the café. And if you can’t pay it off in a month ...”
He let the sentence hang, but they all knew what it meant.
Cora swallowed hard. The Salty Spoon would still be sold. But now the money she was counting on, the money she needed to rebuild her life and get back to New York, was tangled up in someone else’s mess.
There would be no quick sale. No clean break. Just another disaster she hadn’t seen coming.
“There has to be something we can do,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.
Aggie rested her hand on Cora’s shoulder. “Absolutely. We’ll figure this out, honey. The Spoon isn’t going down without a fight.”
Bea squeezed her hand, her grip firm. “We’re with you, Cora.”
Before she had a chance to respond, the café doorslammed open with a force that made the windows rattle. All heads turned as Jack Harlow stormed in, his eyes blazing, jaw set in determination.
The air seemed to crackle in a way it hadn’t moments before. Dressed in a white T-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, colorful tattoos swirling along his muscled forearms, and a pair of khaki cargo shorts, he looked every bit as formidable as the chaos that had just upended Cora’s life.
“I could hear the shouting from halfway down the block. Somebody want to tell me why it sounds like a war zone in here?” His sharp gaze swept the room before landing on her.
Cora’s heart skipped a beat. Whether from surprise or something else, she didn’t want to know. Jack Harlow was unsettling, but she couldn’t look away. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words got stuck. How was she supposed to explain the mess Leonard had caused that morning? And what was Jack doing here, looking like he was about to hand-deliver his own heap of trouble?
Chapter Six
Five pairs of eyes snapped in Jack’s direction, and a mix of surprise, suspicion, and outright hostility stared back at him. For a second, he wanted to spin on his heels and bolt, but he held his ground, squaring his shoulders as he stepped farther in. The old floorboards groaned under the weight of his boots.
Cora stood there, frozen, her green eyes wide as she absently twisted the delicate chain around her neck. Man, she was beautiful. But from the way her gaze hardened as she stared at him, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to see him.Story of his life.
He tore his eyes away from Cora and forced himself to look at the others. Aggie, Bea, and Winston—Lolly’s crew—stood shoulder to shoulder, watching him with quiet suspicion.
Cora stepped toward him, clearly rattled, reaching for her coffee as she moved. Her hand bumped the edge of the table, and the mug tipped, sloshing a generous splash across his shirt.
“Oh, no. Jack, I’m so sorry!” she gasped, grabbing a bar towel and stepping toward him.
He held up a hand to stop her, forcing a tight smile. “It’sfine,” he said, even as the coffee seeped through the fabric. A dark stain bloomed across his chest, one more reminder of how far he’d fallen from the days of crisp chef’s whites and polished kitchens.
A jittery guy in a too-tight suit clutching a briefcase stood off to the side, watching the exchange with wide eyes. Lawyer, he guessed. His stomach twisted.
“So,” Jack said, leaning against the counter like he wasn’t on the edge of losing it, “what’s with the long faces? Or are you just super happy to see me?”
Cora lifted her chin in that stubborn way he remembered all too well from last night. “Jack Harlow, this is Leonard Hathaway, my grandmother’s lawyer. And whatever we were discussing is none of your business.”
He raised an eyebrow. “A lawyer, huh? Let me guess. You’re here to help Little Miss New York sell off The Salty Spoon?”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Cora’s eyes flared with anger, and for a split second, he almost regretted the jab. Almost.
