Page 79 of You Fall First

“Cute kid,” Oliver says, adjusting his glasses higher up his nose.

“Yep.” Keeping the answer vague is giving me life right now. Let my ex wonder. Not that he cares.

He doesn’t care, Jo.

Ugh.

“So what about you?” I ask, glancing around the bustling coffee shop. “Catty’s is a bit far from Asheville.”

Oliver and Amelia exchange looks. “I thought you knew,” he says. “Our company is catering your sister’s wedding.”

“Oh, right! The Gilded Dish,” I garble around the lump in my throat. “I’ve been looking forward to trying your food ever since I found out.”

I’m still doing my best to act totally chill about all this, even as my neck heats to unprecedented levels of burn.

“Yes, well.” Oliver’s temple ticks. “The Dish is also catering Landry’s rehearsal dinner.”

“Duh! That makes perfect sense.” I smack my head, dangerously close to losing my cool.

This isn’t so much chill behavior as slightly unhinged.

Still, I’d been prepared to see Oliver at the wedding, while I was in my beautiful bridesmaid’s dress, with my hair and makeup professionally done.

I wasn’t ready to run into him and his perfect fiancée today, while sporting a splotch of syrup on the crotch of my old romper.

“I hope your sister loves our premium buffet,” Amelia says. “Complete satisfaction of all our customers is our number one goal.”

And that’s when the pronouns they’ve been using finally click.

Because apparently, I need hints the size of a school bus to crush me.

Our company. Our buffet. Our customers.

Amelia works at The Gilded Dish too.

“So I guess I’ll see you both tonight, then,” I choke out.

“I’m visiting my family tonight,” Amelia says. “The rehearsal group is small enough that Ollie can handle things without me.”

Ollie.

I grit my teeth again, smile, and nod. “How convenient that they live nearby.”

“Yes, I’m very lucky.” Amelia’s answering smile is small but kind, and my stomach twinges. I really wish the woman my ex picked over me wasn’t this … lovely.

“Well, good luck tonight, Ollie.” I paste another bright grin on my face. “Landry is notoriously difficult to please. You remember that, don’t you?” I scrunch my nose while simultaneously backing away. “Don’t worry, though. I’m sure The Gilded Dish will do just … great!”

As a final exit strategy, I offer them an aggressive wave. Then I book it over to Dutton, buy us a couple of donuts, and die a thousand deaths on our way out the door.

Ten minutes later, Dutton pokes my side.

We’re in the middle of town square, on a stone bench by the duck pond. “Miss Jo? You didn’t eat your donut.”

I shake myself out of the post-Oliver-and-Amelia fog. “Yeah,” I say absently. “I’ll probably feed mine to that duck over there.” I point at a big mallard paddling toward us.

“No,” Dutton howls, trying to snatch my donut from my lap.

“Just kidding,” I say, cracking a smile. “How about I split this one with you?” I tear the donut apart, hand him half, then shove the rest in my mouth, all in one enormous bite. Even as I chew, I can feel the sticky ring of cinnamon and sugar clinging to my face.