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When I got back to the kitchen, I sighed and pressed my back against the wall. That cookie had actually been a major improvement on his first. Then again, I would’ve said it was almost impossible to make a truly bad cookie before I tasted that first attempt. I knew this was going to end up with me hearing him out, but I just wasn’t ready to listen yet. I didn’t trust myself to stay cold, and I was terrified of what would happen if I opened up to him again.
“Well?” Gabby said. “What did he say?”
Farrah and Lin were on her heels, ready to hear everything. Grudgingly, I decided to explain everything that happened since he came back and showed up with the flowers. To my annoyance, I could tell all three of them were captured by the story. Only Lin seemed to be rooting for Greyson to fail.
“I mean, in a way he’s right,” Farrah said. “Like, if five minutes is enough for him to convince you to forgive him, then you must really be ready to. And if it’s not enough, then maybe he doesn’t deserve it.”
Gabby nodded. “Unless he’s planning to cheat and seduce her or something. You know, like getting her alone somewhere and then he starts kissing her and hopes that’ll work.”
Lin shook her head. “I say you meet with him and don’t say a single word. He wants to pull a technicality and say you never said cheating wasn’t allowed? You do the same and tell him you never said you would respond. You just said he could have five minutes alone with you.”
I rubbed my temples. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Well,” Farrah said softly. She was chewing on some old bread I hoped she hadn’t pilfered from a customer’s plate. We actually all should’ve been hustling to keep up with the lunch rush, but none of us seemed to care at the moment. “What do you want to happen? Maybe that’s where you should start. What if he really was able to explain why he did what he did in a way that made sense? Would you rather genuinely forgive him, or would you rather go on being pissed?”
“That’s not a fair question,” I said.
Gabby laughed. “Nobody wants to be mad forever.”
“False,” Lin said. “Case in point? Kenny Mathers. My hatred of that prick is one of my prized possessions.”
“Why do you hate him so much, anyway?” Gabby asked.
“There’s a long version and a short version. The short version is he’s a selfish asshole who doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
“We’re talking about a different selfish asshole right now,” Farrah said. “So what is it, Harper? Wouldn’t you rather forgive him if you could? What’s the harm in letting him explain his side of things?”
“The harm is this has all hurt more than anything I’ve ever been through. The first time he pushed me away, I thought I’d never been so hurt. Then he did it again and it made the first time look like nothing. So I’m honestly worried how I’d even survive it if he threw me away again.”
“She’s right,” Lin said. “Why should that asshole get three chances? Side note, how long do I have to wait until it’s not bad friend code to make a pass at him?”
“Lin,” Farrah said. “Not funny.”
She held her hands up. “Wasn’t a joke, but point taken.”
“We need to get back to work,” I said. “I smell something burning.”
46
HARPER
Greyson was now staying at the inn, and he apparently had nothing better to do with his day than to lurk around the dining room. He would read things on his phone and then disappear once a day for about an hour. He’d come back with a new cookie for me to try. Much to my dismay, they got better each time. If I was completely honest, they were already “good.” I just knew I could drag this out as long as I needed by fibbing and telling him they still needed something.
I burned with questions for him, but I bit them all back. I kept conversation with Greyson to an absolute, bare minimum of single syllables and body language. But I wanted to know what was going on with his job back home. If he was here all the time, when was he working? After two days of him looming around every freaking corner at the inn, I decided to confront Old Mr. Ashford.
He had taken over when Greyson left, but he was letting Gabby handle most of the more difficult tasks. It seemed like he pretty much just hung around to shoot the shit with customers. He’d been thin when he first came back, but he was putting his weight back on and finally filling out his suits again.
“Mr. Ashford?” I asked.
He smiled, sipping his coffee and raising his eyebrows. “How can I help my star chef?”
