I tilt my head to the side, considering the suggestion. “Why can’t I be hit with inspiration like you?”
“Because then you wouldn’t need me, and I’d just be a sad, lonely witch with too many rocks.”
“Unfortunately, barn repairs come first.” I fiddle with the piping on the chair. “It’s been damn near impossible to book weddings with the state it’s in.” Vector images only go sofar. Engaged couples want to walk into the vision, not merely imagine it.
“Ugh, Ihatethose termites. I could punch every single one of them.”
“Be my guest.”
“What if I loaned you some money?”
My eyes flash to her. “No.”
“Just a loan. For the summer, a little extra for the termite damage. You’ll get some weddings, pay me back, and it’ll be like it never happened.”
“Thank you, but…” Money stuff with The Mirage sometimes sparked arguments between my parents. They fought over way more than the financial aspect of the hotel, but I won’t taint my relationship with Gwen by getting cash involved. “I want to handle this on my own.”
“Think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”
All signs point to me being a crummy hotelier, but she’s still willing to put herself on the line financially for me. Without a word, she stands, situates herself in front of me, and drapes her arms over my body in a protective hug.
“I wish I had a guidebook,” I say with a sigh. “I want someone to tell me what to do.”
“You could—”
“Other than accept money from my best friend.”
“Fine.”
“I don’t need you to always give me solutions.” My words get muffled in her hair. “Sometimes I just want to vent.”
“I know.” She pulls me tighter into an embrace. The doorbell sings an ethereal chime, but neither of us moves because there’s only one person who would enter at this time of night. Moments later, another pair of arms wraps around us.
“Hey, Bob,” I say.
“Hello, my darling.” Gwen greets her life partner.
“Is this a sad hug?” he asks. “Because it feels like a sad hug.”
“Not sad,” I say at the same time Gwen says, “Kind of.”
“It’s not,” I insist and wriggle out of their clutches. “I’m simply overwhelmed from an amazing yoga class that was completely packed.”
Bob’s mouth flies open. “No way! I’m so proud of you, baby.” He stresses the last few words with kisses. “So. Freaking. Proud.”
Gwen and Bob are such a strange match to me. I didn’t like him at first—my vibrant, incredible best friend is a complete hippie, while he’s a total nerd for numbers. His idea of a wild Friday night is repairing old watches found at the flea market. But seeing my best friend deeply in love with such a great guy heals something in me every time we’re together.
“So.” Bob turns to me and keeps an arm draped over Gwen. “Is that the only exciting thing you two talked about?” His gaze turns to Gwen, who gives him the purest smile in response.
“You told him?” I ask Gwen, deflated that she would share everything I told her about Max with her partner. It comes with the territory of knowing someone who’s also found their soulmate, but I sometimes feel like I have to share my best friend.
“Wait, told me what?” Bob says, his brows forming a V.
“About Max.”
“I did but only—”
“Who’s Max?”
