I flop dramatically onto the table. “Tell me the truth. I’m going to regret this entire process, aren’t I?”
Elijah smirks, tapping his coffee. “Oh, absolutely. This is karma for serving me…whatever this is.”
“At least one of us is having fun.”
“Oh, I’m thriving,” he assures me, sipping again.
We lapse into silence, the low hum of the shop’s ancient heater filling the air. Sandwiched between unfinished bridal bouquets and scattered seedlings, we’ve cobbled together a makeshift station: two folding chairs facing a third, a card table that’s clearly seen better days, and a single ivy plant looking perkier than I feel.
“You seem preoccupied,” Elijah says finally, interrupting my anxious rearrangement of the résumés for the third time.
I glance up, feigning innocence. “Do I?”
He makes a skeptical sound. “Levi, please. You just alphabetized résumés by middle initial.”
I sigh, slumping into my chair. “Fine, I’m alittlepreoccupied. Happy now?”
“Delighted,” Elijah responds, studying me over the rim of his coffee cup. He pauses, tapping his fingers on the cardboard sleeve. “Can I guess why?”
“Please don’t,” I groan, pressing my palms to my eyes. “I can practically hear your smugness already.”
He ignores me completely, leaning closer and lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Does it involve a certain tall, dark, devastatingly handsome funeral director you brought to trivia night?”
“Okay, first off, I did not bring him. He showed up voluntarily. Completely independently.”
“And yet,” he muses, “there he sat, right next to little old you. All evening.”
“And second,” I continue stubbornly, “even if I did like that—which I’m not admitting, for the record—I have plenty of other things to worry about right now.”
“Sure you do,” Elijah teases. “Are we picturing Hayden Harlow as ‘pin me to the door’ or ‘read me poetry and then ruin me’?”
I shake my head, biting back a reluctant smile. “Remind me again why we’re friends?”
“Because I offer unparalleled emotional support, expert judgment, and ruthless honesty,” he replies, sipping his coffee smugly. “All of which you clearly need right now while you’re dealing with Stonevale’s broodiest bachelor.”
I lean back, shoulders slumping. “Look, about that…” Ihesitate, choosing my words carefully. “We might have to tone down the teasing about Hayden’s whole…mysterious loner thing.”
Elijah’s expression immediately shifts to curiosity. “Did something happen?”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “He mentioned feeling like Stonevale’s favorite joke. I think he’s sensitive, and I didn’t realize how much we might’ve been poking at something real.”
Elijah’s face softens. “Oh, honey. We didn’t mean…”
“I know,” I say quickly. “Me neither. But maybe we just ease off on the teasing until he feels more comfortable.”
He nods, placing a reassuring hand on my arm. “Say no more. We’ll dial it back and roast with consent, I promise.”
I pause, narrowing my eyes at him. “Now, how do we break this gently to Dominic? His snarky ass might short-circuit if we ask him to reel it in.”
Elijah chuckles. “Oh, he’ll pout, but he’ll manage. Probably. Maybe.” He winces slightly. “Actually? We might have to bribe him.”
I roll my eyes. “Hereallyis a complicated one, huh?”
“And yet,” Elijah says, leaning back in his chair, “we keep him around. So…you’re into this guy, huh?”
“Hayden’s…just interesting.”
Elijah crosses his arms. “Interesting as in ‘life-ruining, bad-decision’ interesting or ‘I can’t stop replaying trivia night over and over’ interesting?”
