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I pause my pacing. “You’re going with me?”
“Of course I am.”
We leave together, determined. When we arrive at the corner where my chocolate shop is—Elodie’s opens in an hour—Gage gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Go get ’em.”
I hand him the keys so he can wait inside.
I cover the twenty feet to Scents & Sensibility alone, brightening when I spot Samira inside. But she’s taking down the For Rent sign.
All my adrenaline burns off. Turns to ash.
I’m too late.
My heart sinks like an anvil dropped from a cartoon skyscraper. But I knock anyway.
She glances at the sound then smiles warmly. She’s practically floating as she heads to the door, then swings it open. “Elodie! Want a trade?”
“I want to make an offer,” I blurt out.
Her brow knits. “On your regular perfume? I told you trades are the only thing I’ll accept. Though I should give you a lifetime supply of La Cerise since I’m retiring now. I got such a great deal.”
But maybe she hasn’t signed the paperwork yet. Maybe I can make a better offer. “I didn’t know it was an option, though, to rent this space. I’d love to have the chance to?—”
“It’s not an option,” she says, and she’s smiling. So bright. So broad.
I should be happy for her. She deserves to retire. To live the good life. Still, so should I. “I have a plan for?—”
I’m cut off by the ringing of her phone. She glances at it, smiling again. “Oh! I need to take this. Don’t want to leave the new tenant waiting. But come back.”
Hopes dashed, I leave, trudging to Elodie’s. I’ll just have to deal with Sebastian.
I make better chocolate.
I have a classier shop.
I’m nicer.
If he drives me out of this neighborhood, I’ll start over again with a new location. That man won’t put me out of business. I won’t give him the power.
When I pull on the door to Elodie’s, the comforting scent of chocolate greets me.
But so do Amanda, Eliza, Ally, Kenji, Margo, and Gage. They’re all bursting with smiles.
“We have some good news,” Kenji chirps.
Amanda grabs my wrist and tugs me to the café section.
“What’s going on?” I ask, every single molecule confused.
Once I’m sitting, Amanda clears her throat. “Confession: Eliza, Ally, and I haven’t been going to get boba after school.”
Worry prickles along my spine. “What have you been up to?” I ask carefully.
“It seems…they’re detectives,” Gage puts in, clearly amused.
Okay, not drugs.
“And so am I,” Margo says, then shifts her head back and forth, hedging. “Okay, more like the getaway driver.”
