Brianna:Are those done yet, Gracie?
Gracie:Working on it! I’ll see about the pig. How important is this bounce house?
Josie:We have 19 kids under the age of 10 coming. You tell ME how important it is.
Mom:CRITICAL.
Brianna:She was asking Gracie, Mom.
Gracie:I’ll see what I can do.
9GRACIE
Six Weeks Before the Wedding
It’s only 10 a.m., and today’s theme is already “The Worst.” Actually, apply it to the whole past week. After striking my bargain with Jude and exchanging numbers with him last Saturday, it’s been a nonstop juggle of helping my panicked ex-clients and planning my mom’s sixtieth under threat of disownment.
It’s why I spent my morning at her house, convincing my stepsisters that hiring the Patriots’ team mascotisn’thappening, and why I’m now late to a meeting with Calvin, Brooke, and Jude to sign contracts. Normally, I’d handle this over video call, but after getting a text from Calvin saying that Brooke wants to meet in person (and the three-mile stress run it inspired), I decided this was a good thing.
For one, it forces me to rip off the Band-Aid of seeing Calvin with his fiancée. Secondly, it’s a chance to ease Jude into the wedding planning process—something I’m still shocked he agreed to help with while I lacked the full use of my faculties or mypants. And while I may only have his cooperation because of my unexpected leverage from the cottage, I can’t help the surge of hope I feel anyway.
After parking, I lock my car and start jogging down the street. Itriedto leave on time, but Brianna physically blocked me from the door until I helped them source the football bounce house of their dreams. By the time I escaped, I was already late.
Smoothing my freshly de-bird-shitted blazer, I take a deep breathand turn down Westminster Street, trying to calm myself before this meeting. Probably an impossible task without, say, a horse tranquilizer. And yet, I’m determined to make the most of this opportunity.
After Jude revealed that Agatha left the cottage to me and I was able to overcome the emotional shock, my mission to save Larkwood suddenly felt divinely validated. It was as if Agathaknewher grandson would try to sell the estate and knighted me as its valiant checklist-wielding defender. And while I doubt that a contract meeting will be the thing to thaw Jude’s heart, I am holding out hope that seeing Calvin and Brooke together will bring out the softer side I know he has deep (deep) down.
When I finally make it to the café, I’m panting as I pull open the glass door with a tinkle of bells. It’s packed inside, and it takes me a moment to spot Calvin, Jude, and a woman who—no shit—looks like a young Brooke Shields, sitting at a table near the back.
My spine feels like a lightsaber that just got switched on, neon bright and electric as the full gradient of human emotions pulses through me. I watch as Calvin throws his head back and laughs in seeming slow motion. It’s been three years, but longing sprints ahead of everything else, with shame nipping close at its heels.Why can’t I get over him?Are some hearts just more stubborn than others? Incapable of moving on, even when there’s no hope or reason to keep clinging on?
I glance at Brooke, who’s holding his hand on the table and smiling indulgently at him, her engagement ring glinting from across the room. I’m half considering making a run for it when my gaze slides to Jude. He’s watching me intently, a look furrowing his brows that could either be concern or annoyance.Dammit.
I force myself to start walking and feel Jude’s unsettling eyes on me the entire time. Why do they have to catch the light like that? It isn’t natural or appreciated. But at least he isn’t wearing those glasses again.Small mercies.
When I get to the table, I pull out a chair and quickly say, “Sorry I’m late, everyone, my last meeting ran over.”Technically the truth, even if it was because I nearly got into a slap fight with my stepsisters.
Calvin and Brooke begin assuring me that they just arrived whenJude stands quickly, accidentally hitting the table and making the dishes rattle.
“Sorry,” he says, meeting my surprised gaze. “Can I grab you a coffee, Gracie? Some food?”
Taken aback, I think of the toast he made me. I’d assumed he was just buttering me up before asking me to sell the cottage, but maybe he just has some kind of bizarre radar for whenever I’m undernourished and undercaffeinated. I could definitely use some sustenance, but as I glance at Calvin and my nerves zing to life, I respond, “That’s okay, I’ll grab it myself.”
“It’s no problem,” he parries, grabbing his nearly full cup. “I’m going up for a refill anyway.”
I narrow my eyes at him in suspicion, and suddenly, it clicks: Jude can’t stand being around a lovesick couple.
I try not to let all my hope deflate. The whole point of bringing him along was so that he could see the excitement of a couple ready to tie the knot and maybe consider the possibility that marriageisn’tlifelong incarceration. Well. His plan might be to take every chance to leave the table, but I’m not ready to give up yet.
“Then I can refill it for you,” I counter sweetly, attempting to take the cup from him but only succeeding in awkwardly putting my hand over his.
He blinks at the contact, and for several seconds, the feeling of his warm fingers beneath mine sends my train of thought right into a ditch. His grip tightens, and he says in a lowered voice, “Please. You must be starving if you’re coming straight from another meeting. I can get you a latte and madeleines. They’re the best—”
“In the city,” I finish for him. For a moment, we just stare at each other, and I’ve forgotten what we’re fighting over until Calvin clears his throat and stands as well.
“Gracie! Let the man get you a drink and get over here. I haven’t seen you in ages!”
Jude’s eyes flick to Calvin in surprise and then back to me. Then a closed-lipped smile pulls across his face that might be construed as warm if I didn’t know it was smug with victory.So much for Mr. Nice Guy. I let go of the cup.
