I rolled my eyes and laughed.
“Okay, but seriously. Who talked some sense into you?” She glanced from me to Rachel, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Was it Rhett?”
“Oh my—”
Rachel threw her head back with a laugh. “You’re getting a free drink for that, Margot.”
“You’re both ridiculous,” I mumbled from behind my fingers. “And no, it was actually my grandmother herself.”
Margot threw her hands up in mock-defeat. “If only I had known that it would take a message from beyond the grave.”
Rachel snorted quietly and moved to the espresso machine. Watching the ice in my cup clink as I twirled it, I couldn’t stop the goofy smile.
Until I remembered what Margot had said when she came in.
“Wait, what about the gala?”
Margot hissed under her breath. “Maybe now’s not the right time.”
I turned to face her in my stool, stomach twisting as I did. “I already know about the Steele Group. Is that what it was?”
“Um… sort of.” She paused to thank Rachel as she slid her cortado across the bar. “Turns out Claire has a lot of contacts. And, well, now she’s publicized that the Governor will be in attendance.” Margot grimaced into her cup.
“The Governor,” I echoed, throat tight. “So that means… Margot, has anyone else dropped out?”
“Thankfully, no. All thecowardsalready jumped ship.” She tossed a pointed glare over her shoulder at Dot, who I hadn’t even realized was sitting at a table behind us.
Clearly snooping, Dot huffed and turned in her chair, whipping open a newspaper.
“It’s fine,” I replied, although much softer than before. “I just have to… somehow make sure the town-thrown festival in the gymnasium is better than the black tie gala at a country club that theGovernoris now attending.” My words wobbled at the end.
“And don’t forget to breathe,” Rachel chimed in.
“Right, yes.” I knocked back an ice cube to chew on. “Breathing is good too.”
She shook her head and walked away, mumbling, “I’m making you another coffee. Decaf this time.”
“Hey.” Margot snapped two perfectly manicured fingers in front of my face. “Remember that rousing speech you gave the other day? Yeah. A bit too mushy-gushy for me to repeat, but I’m gonna need you to say it to yourself. Every day. Got it?”
I exhaled, the breath shaky. Maybe it would’ve been easier if I’d written it all down. But I remembered the feeling—standing on the counter, Marigold’s bursting with people from every corner of Bluebell Cove. Nothing, not a glittering gala or a woman determined to prove herself, could ever replace that.
“I think I get what you mean,” I said.
When the door’s bell rang again, I was happily sipping on my second white mocha of the day. Unfortunately devoid of caffeine, but Rachel was insistent that I’d already had my fill, and she was now“cutting me off”. Whatever that meant.
“Wicked witch of the west at three o’clock,” Margot muttered into her cup.
I nearly spat out my drink. “What?” I hissed, ducking my head behind hers so I could get a look at the register.
Claire.
She stood at the counter, a veritable tower dressed in an impeccably tailored pair of blue trousers and matching blazer, and gesticulated animatedly to Cameron. Her hair fell around her shoulders in silken waves, the leather purse swinging on her arm no doubt carrying a heftier price tag than my house.
“Is there only the one exit?” Margot muttered flatly, draping one leg over the other.
“Yes,” Rachel replied with a curious glance at Claire. “She doesn’t look mean.”
Margot pursed her lips. “I’m not scared ofmean.”
