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Pastries, you dumbass. And bagels and muffins and…

She rattles all of those things off and more and I slowly bang my head against the window.

“Yes, of course. Uh, let me have two of the blackberry scones.”

“That’s it?”

Her voice is almost incredulous. It would be, since I’m ordering two scones to be delivered ten miles out of town.

“I’ll pay extra for the mileage.”

A pause on the line. “That won’t be necessary.”

She gives me a total and I fumble for my wallet, finally grabbing it and giving her my credit card information. She asks me for my address. I give her the address for my cabin. It’s on the edge of the property, even further away.

I hate myself.

She thanks me in a low, soft voice that makes my heart skip a beat.

“No, thank you.”

“Give me about thirty minutes.”

I freeze. “You’re coming?”

Another pause on the line. “Yeah, it’s just me. My friends help out on busy days. This isn’t a busy day.”

“The weather.”

She sighs, sounding defeated. “Yeah. Well, see you soon, Mr. Rivera!”

Margo promptly hangs up the phone and I’m left staring down at it and cursing myself.

I pace around my living room. She seems like she could really use the business, and Town Hall pays pretty handsomely. The budget for holiday festivals isn’t half bad in Garland Falls.

I should have told her. Should have offered her the job.

You still can.

I freeze again. I guess I could offer her the job when she arrives. Why did I order delivery, anyway?

So that I could see her? See her and maybe this spell would break?

Because I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Haven’t stopped looking at her profile pictures. Wondering if she’ll pick Marcus or Cole.

Wondering if I could give her another choice.

But people put their best selves forward in a profile like that. The most filtered pictures. The best personality traits.

Surely, in person, I’ll see imperfections. See where our personalities might clash.

The doorbell rings. I’ve been pacing for half an hour.

Shit.

I take in a deep breath and then let it out of my nostrils. I smooth down my shirt for good measure, a Henley in a forest green that Lois once said made my brown eyes extra soulful.

Whatever that means.