Page 95 of The Sugar Maple Inn

Did you hear about Grace Sullivan and the billionaire?

I heard they…

Well, I heard…

And what nobody was asking was the question they were all thinking about: What does a billionaire want with a girl like Grace Sullivan?

Not that they’d say it out loud. They were too nice for that. But Grace could feel it anyway, that little undercurrent of disbelief. Because this was Solace Springs, where everyone knew everyone’s business and everyone knew Grace was a single mom who served coffee and couldn’t quite get her act together enough to chase her dreams.

She was their scrappy underdog. She wasn’t the girl who ended up with the prince.

“So.” Isabel shifted her baby to the other hip. “Are you seeing him? Is it, like, a thing?”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said about playing Monopoly?” Grace said.

Isabel leaned forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Yeah, and I just saw the look on your face when you said it. It’s the kinda look that led to this thing being strapped to me twenty-four/seven,” she said, gesturing to her baby. “You clearly like him. And I heard from Ella he asked you to go to Cuba?”

“I—” God, how did she answer that? “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Julie pressed. “He’s single, you’re single, you clearly have chemistry if you spent two nights together without killing each other—”

This was getting out of hand.

“Look,” Grace said, refilling coffee cups with more force than strictly necessary. “Nothing is happening. Reese is in Cuba dealing with a crisis, I’m here working and that’s the end of the story. In fact, I need to check on table four,” Grace muttered and fled before anyone could see the expression on her face.

She made it through the morning rush on autopilot, which was good because her brain was too busy spiraling to focus on anything else. By the time the lunch crowd started trickling in, she’d mentally composed and deleted about forty-seven different text messages to Reese.

Hey, sorry for the radio silence. I’m bad at this. x

Too casual.

I hope the sanctuary situation is getting better. Let me know if you need anything. Best, Grace

Too formal.

Look, I slept with you and now I’m freaking out because you’re a billionaire and I’m a waitress and this is insane, right? Please tell me this is insane. xxxxx­xxxxx­xxxxx­xxxxx­xxxxx­

Too honest.

She was wiping down a table, lost in her pathetic spiral, when she noticed her mother leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching her with an expression that could freeze lava. She’d been giving Grace the silent treatment since Grace had returned to work the day before, which was Olympic-level impressive for someone who usually couldn’t go five minutes without offering unsolicited opinions about everything from Grace’s posture to the color of her chipped nails.

Grace had tried three times to start a conversation. Mabel had shut Grace down every time with a look that could curdle milk. Apparently, Margaret had been busy on the phone the night before. And apparently, Mabel had opinions about Grace spending two nights in a tower with Reese Spencer.

“Mom,” Grace tried again, approaching the counter cautiously. “Can we talk about—”

“Nothing to talk about,” Mabel snapped back as she continued aggressively wiping down the already-spotless espresso machine.

“If this is about me and Reese…”

Her mother’s eyes latched on to hers. “Is there a you and Reese?”

“Why the attitude? Only the other day, you were trying to marry us off, according to Sophie. Is the reality hitting and you realize I’m not good enough for him?”

Her mother’s face softened. “Of course not! I just don’t like the idea of you owning that inn. And if it’s true you’ve captured that man’s heart, then he’s going to hand it over on a platter, isn’t he?”

Grace looked at her in surprise. “Mom, he’s so far out of my league. I haven’t captured his heart.”

Mabel’s face softened and she stroked her daughter’s hair. “Oh Grace, honey, you have no idea how special you are, do you? Any man spending forty-eight hours with you is bound to fall head over heels.” Then her face hardened. “Now, go serve your friend, she’s just walked in.” Then she turned on her heel and walked into the kitchen as Grace stood watching her, mouth open.