“Are you going to tell me who that was?”
Margot sat across from me, ankles primly crossed as though she wasn’t sunken into the corner couch. Shifting in the wingback armchair, I swirled my still-full drink and fixated on the sound of sloshing ice. I hadn’t wanted to end up here. It felt strange to once again occupy this little slice of the Morning Bell—this time, missing three of the people who made it special.
So much had changed since we last found each other here. She left first—followed quickly by Teddy, then Serena, then Wes. It wasn’t long before I was sitting alone in a corner meant for five, wondering when they had all decided to move on without me.
I cleared my throat. Her curious stare was unrelenting. “His name is Rhett.” My voice sounded strained. “He’s fixing up Marigold’s.”
“Fixing up Marigold’s,” Margot echoed, the corner of her maroon lips tilting up a fraction. She lifted her tiny cup of espresso, finished it off, and placed it on the coffee table between us. “He’s cute, you know. Rhett.”
“He lives on the other side of the country,” I quipped immediately.
Taking a long drink of my latte, I tried to focus on the condensation against my palm and not the warmth spreading across my face. Of course, he was objectively attractive. Anyone could see that.
Margot tilted her head with an amused smile. “You don’t usually shut down like that unless you care. Remember when you swore youhatedWes’s tutor? What was his name—Danny? You swore he was pretentious. Then I caught you doodling ‘Mrs. Danny Something’ on your notebook in French class.”
Heat rose to my ears. “That was different. I was sixteen.”
“And how are you different now?” she asked slyly.
I pressed my lips together, unwilling to take the bait.
“And to be clear, I don’t like him,” I continued, “He’s only here to sell his uncle’s business—he’s just going to… leave.” The word sounded strangled.
“Yeah, life exists outside of Bluebell Cove,” Margot returned flatly.
Our eyes met. I struggled to keep the frown I felt from appearing on my face.
Maybe someone smarter could have seen the signs. Each of them were brilliant in their own right—Margot the leader, Wes the daredevil, Serena the visionary, and Teddy the beating heart. I was always dragging behind. A little too needy, a little too stubborn, and loyal to a fault.
I loved Bluebell Cove. I just wished that thepeopleI loved did too.
“What brings you home?” I said instead, eager for a subject change.
Margot’s mouth opened and closed. She crossed her legs and sank into the couch, studying her cuticles with great interest. “My mom’s been on me about visiting her forsolong. Youknow Ruth. I figured I might as well come before all the holiday madness begins.” With a flick of her hand, she whipped her ponytail over her shoulder and glanced up again.
I knew she was lying. Of all her impressive talents, Margot consistently failed at bluffing. But I knew that—even if I pointed it out—she probably wouldn’t admit anything. Ever since we were eighteen, the concept of her own feelings might as well have been a ghost story to tell around the campfire.
So, I smiled and took another sip of my drink. “How long are you in town?”
“Well, I might as well stay for the big end-of-summer party.” Margot drummed a set of perfect nails on her knee. Her mouth lifted into a demure grin. “Besides, I heard someone I know is in charge of thewhole thingthis year.”
Exhaling, I relaxed into the chair, the frost between us steadily melting. I decided then that she didn’t have to be honest about why she was back in Bluebell Cove. It felt even more like home with her here. I’d relish the tiny dose of it while I could.
“Maybe I can recruit your help,” I replied, “I have a stack of napkins that feels more like a collection of ransom notes than anything else.”
Margot lifted a dark eyebrow. “I don’t know what that means, but I’m avoiding my mom until she realizes she forgot to pick me up. Your place?” She stood without waiting for a response, plucking her impossibly tiny purse from the couch and clacking toward the door.
I barely glanced at my phone as I tapped out a message to Rhett, letting him know I was closing early. He had his own spare key anyway—and honestly, I had no desire to see him. Whether it was guilt over snapping at him or frustration with his robotic outlook on life, I couldn’t say.
Either way, a little distance couldn’t hurt. We’d be seeing plenty of each other soon enough.
By the time we arrived at my side of Maple Street, Margot had finished one of her many stories about being the youngest acquisition editor at her publishing house. It sounded like everything she wanted it to be—fast-paced, unrelenting, and exactly what she was built to do. But when she talked about New York, its grey winters and the non-stop crush of crowds, a far-off look shined in her eyes that piqued my curiosity.
I had to keep reminding myself that pushing for more would be a bad idea. I’d simply take what I was given.
“Wow,” she murmured when we stopped outside the house. “It’s…” Her lips pursed as her gaze drifted from the sparse roses to the drooping window boxes. “Exactly how I remembered it.”
Opening the gate with my hip, I motioned her inside. “Don’t lie,” I joked, but it came out harsher than intended.
