“I know so. I’ve built events from less.” Margot squeezed her arm. “Trust me.”
The words came out just like that.Trust me.
Exactly what she’d been afraid to ask for. And exactly what she’d been learning all over again how to give.
Lou was in the kitchen, surrounded by the ruins of four days’ work. Frosting coated the floor. Cake layers leaned against a prep table like casualties.
He looked at her.
“Can you make another one?” she asked.
Lou looked at the mess, his hands, then back at her. “It won’t be the same cake.” He straightened his apron. “But it’ll be mine. And nobody’s going to push this one off a counter.”
“That’s all I need.”
At the front desk, Jolene handed over the note. Plain white paper. Eight typed words. No fingerprints worth pulling.
“Elaine’s deciding whether to cancel,” Jolene said.
“She can’t cancel.”
“That’s what I told her.” Jolene’s expression was grim. “But the note changes the calculation.”
Before Margot could answer, Elaine stepped out of her office. Phone in hand. Reading glasses low on her nose.
The look on her face suggested she’d spent the afternoon fielding insurance questions, board members, and nervous guests.
She stopped in front of them. “Not canceled.”
Relief rushed through Margot.
Then Elaine continued. “Postponed.”
The relief vanished.
“What?”
“The gala and fireworks move to tomorrow night.”
Silence settled across the lobby.
Jolene blinked.
Dana looked up from the front desk.
Even the clerk behind the computer paused.
Elaine raised a hand before anyone could protest. “Harker asked for another twenty-four hours.”
Margot frowned. “He thinks we’re close?”
“He thinks whoever’s behind this is running out of options.”
That sounded like Harker. And if she was honest, it sounded right. The sabotage, the note, the empty storage unit all screamed desperation.
Caleb wasn’t executing a careful plan anymore. He was scrambling.
“And the guests?” Margot asked.
