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Until I saw that stack of acceptance letters.
Jared had never mentioned law school to me. Not once.
But a person doesn’t get accepted to Harvard Law without some serious planning. At some point, he’d taken the LSAT, written essays, and submitted applications.
Why hadn’t he told me?
Was he moving to Massachusetts?
Would he ever come back?
I never asked him about it. I pretended the letters didn’t exist. I kept waiting for the day Jared would announce he was moving away, but that day never came. We graduated from college, and with my culinary management degree in hand, I started making plans for my pizzeria.
Armed with his double major in business and accounting, Jared was instrumental in helping me apply for the right loans and grants.
Mercury Slice was born.
It was a food truck for the first three years. After that, I upgraded to a brick-and-mortar restaurant. And Jared was there every step of the way.
I couldn’t have made my dream a reality without his help.
But what abouthisdreams?
If he’d gone to Harvard Law, where would he be now?
Not drawing shamrocks around the St. Patrick’s Day specials at a pizzeria, that’s for sure.
I’ve never expected Jared to return my feelings. I’m the luckiest girl in the world just to have his friendship.
But I’ve been selfish.
Those acceptance letters have haunted me for years. I should have asked him about them. I should have encouraged him to go to Harvard. He’s still young. He can still go to law school.
It’s past time to ask Jared whathewants. It’s what a best friend should do—even if it means I lose him forever.
I swallow around the rising lump in my throat. “Jared…?”
His dark blue eyes meet mine, and his forehead crinkles with concern. “What’s wrong, Mik?”
I shake my head, trying to find the words to say what needs to be said. “Do you ever wish—”
The door to Mercury Slice swings open, and several members of the staff walk in. They’re all clad in green and have wide smiles stretched across their faces.
“It’s the best day of the year!” Mitch, one of my bartenders says, pumping his fists like Rocky Balboa. “Let the green beer flow.”
I shake a warning finger in his face. “One drop of food coloring is enough. We don’t need a fiasco like last year.”
Jared laughs. “Better hope you never have to appear in Judge Vance’s courtroom, Mikki.”
I shudder at the thought. Judge Vance wasn’t the only person whose teeth were stained green last year—but she was the one with the most power. And judging by the way she glares at me every time she comes to the pizzeria, she won’t be getting over it any time soon.
I grab Mitch’s arm as he passes by me. “Seriously.Onedrop.”
Chapter 2
Mikki
MercurySliceisawell-oiled machine, but I still get nervous on big nights. Slow nights are nonexistent, but some evenings are guaranteed to be busier than others.
