“This place sells itself, don’t ya think?”
I frown at her.
“Fine.” She huffs. “Not a word of this to Daze, though, y’hear.” She closes her eyes, and worry swirls in my stomach. Is something going on financially that Daisy doesn’t know about? Or maybe this is more personal, like something medical-related. If that were to happen to Stacey, how would Daisy handle that loss?
“I wanna retire.”
“Well, that’s…” Relief rushes in, and I laugh. “Congratulations! That’s exciting.”
“More exciting if I could tell my boss.”
“Daisy doesn’t expect you to work here forever.”
Stacey’s brow quirks. “The girl is go, go, go and accepts help from no one. You know that. When I had my fall, she took on my hours instead of hiring a temp. When I asked her why she didn’t, she said the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. She’s so consumed by The Mirage sometimes that she forgets to give herself a break.” Stacey opens her tote bag for me to see a small collection of papers. “I got some resumes here from folks looking for jobs. But I can’t very well have interviews for my replacement without telling Daisy first, can I? I don’t want to stress her out, but I…it’s time for a new chapter in my life. I’m just…” Her voice catches and her eyes glisten. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a tissue to dab her tears. “Shoot, there I go.”
The sight of her face creasing as she cries makes my big-brother instincts kick in, so I open my arms to hug her.
“Hey, Daisy will understand. She’ll be sad to lose you, but only because she cares about you.”
“She’s the daughter I never had. The thought of how she’ll look when I tell her I’m moving on…oh, it breaks my heart. If you were here, I’d feel like at least…” Stacey sniffles, backing away from our embrace. “Sorry. That’s not fair of me to ask.”
“It’s okay. You care about her.”
She nods, her expression still watery. “I get why she likes you so much. You two’re good together. I like seeing her so happy.”
My mouth opens to object, because I’m not the only reason. It’s the pop-up and the success of The Mirage that have her in high spirits.
“I know her,” Stacey says, tucking her tissue away as she eyes me up and down. “Shelikesyou.”
“If you’re about to give me one of those ‘break her heart, then I’ll break you’ speeches, then you’re too late.”
“Please. Daisy knows what she’s getting into. She’ll do fine. She always does. Was doing just fine when you left before, and she’ll do just fine again. But be careful foryou.” Stacey rests a hand on my shoulder. “I watched you grow up alongside her, and I might not know for sure what’s going on in that handsome little head of yours, but I have a hunch. And whatever happens between you two, well…I don’t want you to have a reason to stay away.”
My entire childhood, I wanted to get out of Harlow. I probably convinced the very girl I pined after since forever that I didn’t want to be here. Then, for eight years, I avoided returning to my hometown. The cost of flights, my disapproving parents—those were excuses. I didn’t hate the thought of coming back to Harlow, but the reality of seeing Daisy petrified me. I knew that once I saw her, I’d question why I really ever left.
“You wanna sit down?” Stacey examines me, flipping the back of her palm against my forehead. “You look…not well.”
“What if Daisy’s not the reason to stay away?”
“What d’you mean, hon?”
“What if…what if she’s the opposite?”
I have to see this through. Us. If the job at Tate comes up, I’ll handle that when it happens. But right now, everything except for Daisy fades to the background.
A slow smile creeps onto Stacey’s face, and she gives me a hearty slap on the back. “Well that’s pretty damn romantic, if I do say so myself. Don’t wait around on that.”
And I definitely don’t intend to.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Daisy, Now
“Last name?” I check off the sporty couple listed on the clipboard, hoping they don’t see my hands shaking. “Welcome, you two. Stacey will take you to your room, and if you need anything, let me know. We want to make you as comfortable as possible.”
Reservations have become a nightmare today as guests called to delay their arrivals, but I’ve opened up The Mirage to campers so they have a safe place for the night. Flash floods are no joke around here. With so little moisture in the ground—whenwasthe last rainfall?—an abrupt, heavy downpour can wreak havoc. We’ve experienced it before with power outages, fence damage, and mud seeping under doorways.
Max returns in my truck, and thank god he spent all those years in Europe and learned how to drive stick. He’s been running all over town to gather supplies while I oversee operations here. Although I always have a stash of emergency provisions, those ominous clouds are the color of a nasty bruise and moving in fast. We’re less than forty-eight hours from opening, and Mother Nature has decided she wants to play.
