CHAPTER 42
Harper
“It’s the one? Really?” Janie squeaks, excited. She’s been keeping track of all my coastal stops, and my corresponding thoughts about each one, in the master spreadsheet. I loved the Keys and I loved Myrtle Beach. But when I walked into this little beachy cafe, Coffee Cabana—right next to an actual surf shack!— with the bright teal Deck Hands Wanted sign, I knew. I justknew.
“It’s the one,” I confirm.
“And it’s, like, right there! So perfect.”
“I know!” I say, letting myself feel it. Letting myself be truly hopeful and excited for the first time in weeks. Maybe in years.
I’m going to be the Head Baker at this little cafe in the Hamptons. Just a few hours drive from home. I can go see Dad on weekends. If, God forbid, he has an emergency, I can hop on a helicopter to get there even faster, since all the rich people use them to get from here to Manhattan.
I walk slowly down the beach front not far from the bakery, taking it all in as I talk to her.
There are no palm trees, unfortunately. But the relaxed feeling, the easy warmth I felt in my soul on that trip as a kid, I feel it here. And the little town reminds me of Juniper Falls. If Juniper Falls was really swanky. I doubt the mayor of my new town, Montauk, is a reindeer.
“And the interview?” Janie asks knowingly.
“It was totally fine! Probably because we just talked about food, and I brought some pastries with me.”
“Oh, then case closed. You don’t even have to talk, just shove your goods in their mouth.” I snort and she catches it too, “In a non-sexual way!”
“She tested me on all the machines and had me make up my own signature coffee blend, which of course I aced that.”
“When are you going to tell me your dad’s secret ingredient?”
“Never!”
She shakes her head, “Well, babe, I’m happy for you. So freaking happy. Now, turn the camera around so I can see the vibe of this place. What about a place to stay?” She asks.
“I found a one bed, one bath on the beach to try for now. It’s gross how expensive it is but that’s just the beach, right?” I try to tell myself.
“Right. And you have Buttmunch’s golf money now, and a new job, so you’ll be fine.”
I laugh, “Rip, I’ll be fine.”
She yawns, “So you’re back to waking up at like 3?”
“Only at the start, I negotiated a second baker into the contract. I want to set the menu and get the ball rolling and then I’ll shift my hours.”
“Well look at you! You know who you sound like…”
“Stuart?” I grumble. I told her all about that stupid conversation a couple weeks ago. And explained that I blocked Aiden and never wanted to speak of him again. Or speak to him again.
Not that I was in any real danger, since he never tried to contact me anyway. I stopped posting on Instagram but he could’ve messaged me. And Janie has always known where I am and what I’m up to. It would not have been hard at all for him to find me. If he’d wanted to.
Which he must not have.
“You can be mad at him and miss him at the same time, you know.”
“I’m not mad at him,” I say.
Janie scoffs, “Right, that’s why you refer to him as the dog and banned me from bringing him up.”
“Okay fine, I’m mad at him.”
“And you miss him?”
