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I turn and my mother stands there, looking almost chagrined, her brown eyes searching my face.

“Margo,” she says quietly. “I was wrong.”

I gape at her, mouth open. My mother has never said those words in all her life, as far as I know.

“What did you say?”

She huffs. “I said I was wrong, mija. You’ve always been such a headstrong girl. I should have known you know your own mind. I married a man everyone approved of, and he left anyway.”

Tears spring to the backs of my eyes and she pulls me into a hug, squeezing me tightly like she used to when I was a little girl.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispers, and a tear tracks down my face. She brushes it away, smiling, as she pulls away.

“Gracias, Mama.”

“I still don’t understand how this works,” she says, glancing at the three men. “But I called you a spectacle and told you to quit. I shouldn’t have.”

“You really hurt me, Mama.”

Her eyes come back to mine. “I know, mija. I’m sorry.”

I nod, swallowing hard.

She squeezes my hand. “Now. You’ve got plenty of work to do. I’m going to have some more crab puffs.”

She makes her way back to the catering table.

Then she turns back.

“And Margarita?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Yes, Mama?”

“Those thighs?” She slaps hers and I blink. “You got them from me.”

I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.

The guys stay close as I hand out pastries to the denizens of Garland Falls. When the line snakes past the cider stand and starts to stall, I split it in two, put Gabe on the pumpkin creme, Marcus on the cash box, and send Cole to the truck for the reserve trays I held back this morning. The line never stops moving again.

Nobody says anything. Not to my face, anyway.

And Marcus is right. Why should I care what everyone thinks of my personal life? Everyone’s eating my pastries.

Suzanne approaches me, tapping me on the shoulder.

“Your friend Del sent us her screenshot, and we traced the account behind the comment.”

I draw in a sharp breath. “Yeah? And?”

“It came from someone named Bryan Carter.”

Not Seth, then. Bryan, drinking with Seth at the Dive, just like Joss said. I don’t stop breathing. I don’t grimace.

I laugh.

“You called me boring, Bryan,” I mutter. “Funny how you can’t stop talking about me now.”

Suzanne raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”