She gave me a curious look over the rim of her mug. “What changed your mind?”
I fiddled with my cup, tracing the rim with one finger. “I found a letter from my grandmother. She basically said that I… didn’t have to carry on what she started. That I could do my own thing. And it’sterrifying.”
“Of course it is.” She grinned and leaned in close, lowering her voice. “That’s how you know it’s going to beamazing.”
From the back, Cameron reappeared balancing a stack of clean mugs, and his wide gaze darted between us before landing on me. “What’s terrifying?”
“None of your business,” Rachel quipped lightly.
He frowned. “Everything around here is my business. I work here.”
“Are you sure about that?” She raised an eyebrow at him over her shoulder.
“Yeah, I’msure,” Cameron insisted, then glanced at me as he stacked the mugs on top of the espresso machine. “Hey, Georgie,” he added, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks.
“Hey, Cam,” I said, fighting a smile.
He propped an arm against the counter and flipped a dark coil from his eyes. “So, what are you talking about?”
Rachel groaned and buried her face in her hands. “See what I deal with? Next, he’s going to ask if you need a business partner.”
“Do you?” he cut in, features brightening.
“Goodbye, Cameron,” Rachel sang sweetly, spinning him back toward the kitchen.
I covered my laugh with a poor attempt at a cough, shaking my head. “So… I guess I can see what you were saying.”
“Thank you,” she said. “That boy has accidentally written your name onat leasttwo customers’ cups.”
I choked on my mocha. “Please tell me you’re lying.”
Rachel just smiled. “So. What’s the next step?”
The question hit me like a sewing needle to an overfilled balloon. I hadn’t gotten that far. “Um… redecorating? I mean, it’ll take some work. Repainting, some new displays. The shelves are there now, and I’ll have to figure out where to put the wheel. And—”
“Don’t you dare start spiraling,” Rachel warned, pointing her mug at me. “This is happening. You said it out loud. That makes it real.”
I groaned into my cup, but she’d been right. Saying the wordsGeorgie’s Pottery Shopmade something in me click into place. It wasn’t just a dream anymore. It was a plan. I couldn’t back out now, even if I wanted to.
“Well, on the bright side, you won’t need to drive me to the studio anymore,” I said, finishing the remains of my white mocha.
“Hey! I enjoyed those late night hangouts.” Rachel set her mug back to its saucer with a ceramic clink. “Even if it meant only getting a few hours of sleep before opening.”
My face heated. “You’re too good to me.”
“You’d do the same for me,” she said with a shrug.
The bell rang as the door swung open. A wide smile stretched across my mouth as Margot strutted inside, purse balanced on her arm while she slipped her sunglasses to the top of her head.
“I was hoping I’d find you here,” she murmured, setting her things on the bar. “You willneverbelieve what’s happening with the gala.”
“Margot,” Rachel interrupted, “Georgie has some news.”
Two sets of eyes blinked back at me.
“I’m closing down the flower shop,” I said, sucking in a breath. “And opening Georgie’s Pottery Shop.”
“You’re kidding,” Margot replied. She perched on the stool beside me and dropped her chin in her hand. “So, what made you realize I was right?” Her mouth twitched, fighting a smile.
