Page 88 of Maybe We Can Fake It

“This breakfast is delicious,” Elise tells me. She slices her fork through a poached egg, letting the yolk flow out and over the spinach-topped English muffin. “And your chef is so sweet.”

Sweet? Addison?She’s an amazing cook, but I wouldn’t dare describe her as sweet. Especially not to her face. She must be charming them for my benefit.

“I’m lucky to have her here,” I say. Which is at least true.

We chat for a couple minutes, and then I tell them I should be getting back to work. I still haven’t found a way to ask how long they’re staying. Since they’re using one of the rooms here, it’s a valid question. I need to know when I can start booking the room again. But I’m afraid they’ll see me asking as rude.

“So,” I say as I push my seat back, getting ready to stand. “I imagine you’ll need to get back to work soon, won’t you?”

Grant sets down his fork. “Actually, I’ve arranged it so that I can stay as long as necessary.”

“Necessary?” I almost squeak. What the heck is that supposed to mean?

I’d mostly stopped worrying that they came here to spy on my parenting and business skills, but those fears come rushing back quickly. Was it foolish to let my guard down?

Elise offers me what is probably meant to be a reassuring smile. “He only means that we’re enjoying our time here with you and May, so we haven’t exactly set an end date for our trip yet.”

“Oh.”

“Also, I heard about the brunch you hold here on Mother’s Day, and I’d like the chance to share that with May. If you don’t mind, of course.”

“Oh,” I repeat, the word sticking a bit in my throat this time. Yes, I think I do mind, but I can’t say that. Because how messed up would it be for me to deny May the opportunity to celebrate Mother’s Day for the first time? I’m notthatselfish. But the idea of it fills my stomach with rocks.

“We’re sorry we’ve imposed on you for so long though,” Elise continues, when it becomes clear after a stretch of a silence that I’m not going to say anything else. “And we’d be more than happy to pay for our room here. We don’t want you to lose business.”

I shake my complicated thoughts aside to process at another time. “That’s not necessary. You’re welcome to stay here. I just thought you’d be eager to get home.”

As Grant picks his fork back up and resumes eating, Elise says, “This town is a nice change of pace from the city. But if you won’t let us reimburse you for the room, May gave us a great idea for how we could show our appreciation.”

Wait, what? May shouldn’t be giving them any ideas on anything involving me.

“We made a reservation for you and Travis this Friday night at a great restaurant we found in Stoneridge. The two of you can relax and enjoy a nice private dinner without us being in your way or Travis having to cook. It’s all on us.”

“Well, uh, that’s very nice of you, but it’s totally not necessary,” I tell her. Because there’s no reason for me and Travis to go on a private date. Since we’re not really dating, obviously, though they don’t know that. But also, I don’t like the idea of them thinking they need to give me money for stuff.

I asked them for a loan to buy the inn so I wouldn’t end up paying a bank out the ass in interest. That doesn’t mean I need them to buy me dinner. I do like the idea of Travis not having to cook though. He deserves that.

“I’ve already left my credit card information with them,” Grant says.

“We want to do something nice for you,” Elise adds. “And May mentioned how she thought you and Travis would enjoy a night out together since you’ve been so busy lately.”

“Oh, did she?” I try my best not to let my annoyance show as I glance around the dining room for an excuse to walk away. But there’s only a few other guests in here at the moment, and they all look perfectly taken care of. Damn my staff for doing their jobs well.

“If you need to get back to work, that’s fine, dear,” Elise says. “We’ll text you the name of the restaurant and reservation time later. And we’d be happy to go over to the house that evening and stay with May so she’s not alone.”

My thirteen-year-old is perfectly capable of staying at home alone for an evening. She’s apparently also capable of meddling in my life for reasons I can’t figure out. But I understand that Elise wants to spend as much time with her as possible.

Fuck, she wants to spend Mother’s Day with her.

“Sounds good, thank you,” I say dutifully. “But yes, I should get back to work.”

I’ll have to find somewhere else to go waste a couple hours Friday evening. I can’t ask Travis to go on a date with me. He’ll think I’ve lost my mind.

I get back to work, but there’s not much going on today, so I’m not really needed. And my mind is spinning in all different directions—about me and Travis, about Elise and Grant, about Mother’s Day, about everything. Whenever I try to concentrate on a task, I can’t, so I might as well get out of here.

I don’t intend to end up at the diner, yet somehow after parking my car in an open spot on the side of the road, I realize I’m staring up at the Reed’s sign. My stomach growls, like a Pavlovian response. Guess grabbing some food wouldn’t hurt.

The place is pretty full when I walk inside. The counter is empty though, so I slide onto a stool, not wanting to take up the only free table. Travis is behind the counter, his back to me, loading his arms up with plates from the passthrough window. As he turns with them, he sees me and smiles.

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