Page 92 of Love You, Mean It

It took me four tries to figure out how to word a reply—the sharp smell of vinegar from the dressing wasn’t helping my focus any. Was he trying to rub my nose in it? Or—the slightly more generous version—giving me a courtesy heads-up, so I wouldn’t have to “officially” learn from a regular that my business was ending?

Finally I settled on:

Thx for letting me know. Have you tried the lasagna yet?

I have. When I look in the fridge and realize the leftovers are gone I cry real tears

Mimi would be gratified

Always the goal

So? Will you be there?

Something fluttered in my chest. If he was planning on hating me forever, he wouldn’t care if I actually came, would he?

It’s a date

No, it’s a mostly tedious procedural meeting

So you’re saying bring the drinks in a flask

I’m glad we understand each other

It wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy, but it felt, unexpectedly, like a start.

The community center was much fuller than I expected when Mimi and I walked in Tuesday night, a few dozen people milling around the folding table topped with a coffee urn and a pitcher filled with a highlighter-colored liquid I assumed was meant to be lemonade.

“Oh god, there’s Loretta Bownes. If she comes over, run interference. She keeps nagging me to join her stupid tai chi class. I know we’re both old, but for Christ’s sake, be less of a goddamned caricature, Loretta,” Mimi muttered.

“Don’t worry. I’ll fall on the sword of Brian’s-bowel-updates in order to save you, Mimi.”

“She really brings that up to you?”

“And whoever else happens to be in the shop.”

“Maybe I should be the one running interference.”

Luckily, we were both saved from Loretta’s variety pack of inappropriate conversation topics by the town selectman stepping up to the podium and tapping gingerly at the mic.

“If we could all take our seats? We have a lot to get through.”

I glanced around, but I didn’t see Theo anywhere. Before long, a string of complaints about crosswalk placement and street repair schedules, approved vendors for the May Day festival and the state of the trash bins at Fulton Park, had shifted my focus entirely to trying to stay awake. How Mimi sat through these things was beyond me. I was about to call it a night—apparently this had been Theo taking revenge, which, points for creativity—when the selectman quieted the room again.

“That’s our regular agenda business concluded. At this point, Theo Taylor would like to discuss upcoming plans for the old Taylor’s building. Theo?”

He waved Theo up from where he’d been leaning against the back wall. Sam stood a few feet away, elegant in a long-sleeved black silk sheath that would read plain on anyone else but somehow seemed devastatingly chic on her.

They’d come together, clearly. I tried not to let disappointment take hold—I should be, if not over it, at least used to the fact of them as a couple. Still, seeing him stride by in his perfectly tailored suit, the slate-blue color making his eyes pop, was enough to make my breath stick in my throat. For just a moment, his eyes caught on mine, then he turned, sliding a piece of foam board onto an easel near the podium. It showed a blueprint of what I could just recognize as the Taylor’s building…or part of it. Specifically the first floor, subdivided into smaller sections that vaguely mirrored the layouts of the floors above, all of them opening onto a large central space.

“Thanks for having me. I know it must feel like déjà vu to some of you.” Theo paused for a laugh that didn’t come. Smirking, he glanced at his notes and continued. “So. Last time I was here, it was to float the idea of Mangia purchasing the building. I’ll cut right to the chase: That plan is no longer on the table.”

Murmurs flew around the room as my heart rocketed into my throat. Had I heard him right? A woman behind us, middle-aged and vaguely familiar in the way half the town was, leaned forward, resting an arm on Mimi’s shoulder.

“Good for you, Mimi.”

“Hmmm,” Mimi grunted distractedly, eyes fixed on me. I’d told her that Mangia was a sure thing—they’d been talking over where to place the café, for Christ’s sake—but clearly I’d missed something.No idea,I mouthed at her, shrugging, before we both turned back to Theo, hanging on his every word now.

“The biggest argument for Mangia was that most businesses aren’t able to occupy the entire building. Even the first floor is about five times the average retail space in Milborough today,” Theo said, gesturing at the diagram.

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