A wide smile stretched across my face as my gaze fell on the dainty woman he had his arm draped around. “Janice, it’s so good to see you,” I said.
“And I, you. Frank tells me that you met with the Briggs boy today?”
My lips threatened to droop. I cleared my throat. “Yes, Rhett. Do you know him?”
She nodded emphatically. “You know, he spent every summer with his uncle,” Janice said, turning under Frank’s arm and patting his cheek. “We were close with Clive. His workshop is near the farm.”
Finally, I let my mouth drop into a frown. “That’s strange. I never met him before today.”
Janice’s reply was interrupted by another familiar voice.
“Georgette Wheeler, get your butt over here right now.”
A relieved breath rushed from my lips. “Hi, Ruth,” I returned, hurrying over and dropping into a stool at the bar.
Ruth studied me with warm eyes, silvering dark hair piled atop her head, a pen tucked behind her ear like a permanent accessory. “Ready for the meetin’?” she drawled, southern accent as thick as my earliest memory of her.
I tried to offer her a shrug that felt anything but casual.
“You got nothin’ to worry about, darlin’.” Ruth filled the glass in front of me with ice water. “We’ve all done this before, ‘member? It’s a piece of cake.”
It should’ve been a comfort. If anything, though, it only reminded me that all these people with years of experience would be looking to me for guidance and leadership. Me, the girl drowning in bills and struggling to hold Marigold’s above the surface like some twisted game of water polo. Yeah—it didn’t make any sense to me, either.
The Summer’s End Festival was also a critical lifeline for many of these business owners. If anything went wrong—well,Iwould be responsible.
Lately, I was Wile E. Coyote and life was the anvil.
I dragged a long sip of water and let it create a gap in the conversation. Ruth didn’t need to know all the worries spinning through my brain. What good would that do?
Leaning her elbows on the tile, Ruth tapped her chin and squinted at me. “Chocolate malt and a cheeseburger?”
My stomach growled, traitor that it was. “No thanks, I already ate.” Not technically a lie.
“Well, that’s too bad.” Ruth let out a dramatic breath. “Seein’ as I already have it made for ya, it’ll just go to waste.”
I chewed on my lip and tried not to look too interested. It had been a few days since I ate a proper meal—I didn’t know why, but it was so easy to forget.
When Ruth grabbed the plate and fountain glass from the window—complete with fries and a generous amount of whipped cream on the shake—I found myself weak at the knees. She set it down and clucked her tongue.
“Don’t make me waste perfectly good food now, Georgie,” she warned.
The fries were half-gone by the time I came up for air to thank her.
Captain’s was almost full, a steady hum of chatter and clinking utensils floating through the air as I devoured the world’s best burger. The doorbell jingled again—and suddenly, the diner quieted. I was mid-chew when I swiveled around and met the last person I expected to see.
He looked unfairly dapper for being dressed in the same work clothes as earlier. That bored, unaffected gaze swept across the silent diner before finally landing on me, the girl with half a cheeseburger in her mouth.
Rhett Briggs offered me nothing but a curt nod. “Miss Wheeler,” he said.
Covering my mouth, I forced it down and smiled. “Glad you could find time in your busy schedule,” I replied. It was meant to sound friendly, but the words tumbled out incisive and cutting and frighteningly unlike me.
But then—and I could have imagined this—the corners of his lips twitched.
“Rhett, over here!” Janice called, motioning excitedly to their booth. He turned away before I could humiliate myself any further.
My eyebrows drew together in a confused daze as I swiveled back and finished my burger. I didn’t know what was coming over me, or why this out-of-towner made me blurt things out—but I couldn’t think about any of that right now.
“Did Margot tell you?”
