“I’ll be back,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “We’ll talk about what happens next. I promise.”
His words sank in, heavier than she wanted to admit. Because when the boxes were packed, when the door was locked for good, she wouldn’t just be saying goodbye to the café. She’d be saying goodbye to Jack too.
The Spoon had been the only thing tethering her to Sunrise. A final errand, a loose end to tie up before she went back to her real life in New York. That was the plan. It had always been the plan. Without the café, there’d be no reason to stay. And yet the idea of leaving, of really saying goodbye to The Spoon and all the people who made it special, twisted her stomach.
She didn’t know how she was going to do it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cora wiped her mouth and tossed the napkin on the counter, finishing off the last bite of her now-cold grilled pimento cheese sandwich. The sounds of the festival outside had grown louder, and the mental image of Aggie parading through town as a sequined shrimp was too tempting to resist. She couldn’t let the day end without at least one laugh. She was going to miss this place when she left. Where else do they celebrate by dressing up as bedazzled seafood?
Back to New York. That was the plan. But what exactly was she going back to? Her old job was gone. The apartment she once adored now felt cold and cramped in her memory. And the life she’d been chasing, the fast-paced, polished version of success, suddenly seemed like it belonged to someone else.
She reached for her purse, deciding to catch the last of the parade while she still could. A little joy before the goodbye.
But before she could grab it, the door swung open.
And there he was.
Nathaniel Worthington.
Alone.
He stood in the doorway, his usual self-satisfied grin creeping across his face. “Well, if it isn’t the last supper,” hesaid, eyeing the sandwich remains on the counter. “Enjoying your final moments as The Salty Spoon’s owner, Cora?”
She didn’t answer. His mere presence was enough to sour her stomach. He sauntered farther into the café as if it already belonged to him. In his mind, it probably did.
“This is it, you know,” he continued, his voice casual, almost amused. “The Salty Spoon is mine at midnight. You’ve had your fun, but it’s over.”
Cora crossed her arms, determined to hold steady. “What do you want, Nathaniel? Just spit it out.”
He stepped closer, a smirk twisting his lips. “I’m feeling generous today. Thought I’d give you one last chance to save this place. All it takes is a little...cooperation.” He moved closer, invading her personal space with that oily air of superiority.
She understood all too well what he meant. “You’re disgusting,” she said, her voice cold.
He tilted his head, looking amused. “Disgusting? Or just practical?” His gaze swept over her, lingering a beat too long, sending a shiver of revulsion down her spine. “One night, Cora, and I’m willing to discuss an extension of the loan. It’s a fair deal, considering your options.”
“No.” Her voice was firm, though bile rose in her throat. “I’d rather lose everything than let you anywhere near me.”
Nathaniel’s expression darkened, his smirk falling away. “I wouldn’t be so quick to throw away your only option.” He stepped forward, crowding her against the counter.
Panic shot through her as he grabbed her wrists, his grip tight and unyielding.
“Nathaniel, stop!” She shoved him, but he didn’t budge.
His breath was hot and sour against her cheek as he leaned in, his voice dripping with menace. “You really think you can say no?” he sneered. “You think you’re in any position to turn me down?”
Fear surged through her, but so did anger. She wasn’tgoing down like this. With her hands trapped, she did the only thing she could. She brought her knee up fast and hard.
“You little—” Nathaniel cursed under his breath, but his hold on her only tightened, pinning her wrists to the counter.
Before she could scream again, there was a sudden blur of motion, and then Nathaniel’s weight was gone. She stumbled forward, gasping for air, and looked up to see Jack, his face a mask of fury, standing between her and Nathaniel.
His fists were clenched, his jaw tight. There was no hesitation in his voice when he growled, “Take your hands off her.”
Nathaniel staggered back, straightening his jacket. “This doesn’t concern you, Harlow,” he spat. “Walk away before you get hurt.”
But Jack didn’t walk away. He didn’t even blink. His fist came down with a force that shook the room, connecting with Nathaniel’s jaw with a sickening crack. Nathaniel reeled backward, crashing into a table.
