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“At Hollow Pine?” I look down at my smartwatch to see the date. “Halloween is only nine days away, Suzanne, you can’t expect me to—”
“We’ll handle all of the setup,” she promises. “We just need the vineyard. Catering is already taken care of. Well, except for the pastries.”
“The pastries?”
“We’d arranged for Yeoman’s Bakery to provide all the sweets, but their building flooded yesterday and they backed out,” she says, letting out a harsh breath.
She’s clearly upset about this.
The words come out of my mouth before I think them through.
“I might know another bakery.”
Fuck.
Why did I say that? Does some part of me want to claim Margo Reyes before one of my best friends gets ahold of her?
You’re not ready, the voice in the back of my head says. You’ll never be ready.
“You do? Oh, Mr. Rivera, that would be wonderful.”
“I’m not making any promises. Let me make some calls, see if I can get some staff to volunteer, and talk to that bakery. Okay, Suzanne?”
“Okay,” she says, the relief in her tone palpable. “Thank you, Mr. Rivera.”
“I’ve asked you several times to call me Gabe.”
“Ah. Yes. Gabe. You’ll be in touch?”
“I will.”
“Thank you again. Goodbye.”
She hangs up and my heart is racing. Not because hosting the festival will be stressful, even though it will be. It’s more because now I have to call Margo Reyes.
I make the other calls first, securing some staff for the festival. Then I look down at my internet search for Sugar & Coal.
My finger hovers over the button and then finally, I press it.
The phone rings and my hands go clammy.
She picks up on the first ring.
“Sugar & Coal, this is Margo, how may I help you?”
I swallow hard. “My name is Gabriel Rivera. I own the vineyard on the edge of town?”
A pause on the line. “What can I do for you, Mr. Rivera?”
Tell her about the flood. About the festival.
“Uh…I’d like to order delivery,” I blurt out.
“Sure thing, Mr. Rivera.” She pauses. “What would you like?”
“What do you have?”
Idiot.
