Page 1 of Red, White, and You

Chapter 1

Gigi

I'melbow-deepinred,white, and blue buttercream when the bell over the bakery door jingles.

"Be right with you!" I call, piping a swirl onto a star-shaped cupcake with what I can only describe as patriotic fury. My piping bag is leaking. My "Summer Fun" playlist shuffled to a Christmas song for some reason. And my apron looks like a glitter cannon exploded on it.

I've been up since four, stress-baking my way through a family crisis. Well,potentialfamily crisis. My mother texted yesterday with her usual warm, maternal touch: "Georgina, it's time to discuss your future."

It's time.Like I'm a ticking bomb of unfulfilled potential instead of a successful small business owner who just happens to deal in buttercream. But when your parents are the owners of Hart Health, a multi-million-dollar health and fitness empire, I guess it should come as no surprise that they disapprove oftheir only child sinfully-delicious desserts for a living.Still hurts, though.

I finish piping the tray of cupcakes—each one a tiny, defiant middle finger to the Hart Health empire. Each swirl of frosting is an act of rebellion.Patrioticrebellion.Red for rage. White for their delusional ideals. Blue for my bakery's business account, which is somehow both thriving and still not enough for them.

I turn around, ready to dazzle whatever early bird customer wandered in with a smile and a sparkler-shaped cookie sample.

But the man standing in front of my counter isn't a local looking for coffee and a sugar rush.

He’s stupid tall—likeduck-through-doorwaystall—with shoulders built for carrying the weight of his own ego, and his eyes are an intense shade of brown that makes otherwise reasonable people say embarrassing things. And there’s a dimple in his cheek when he smiles.Because of course there is.

And he's wearing a Hart Health T-shirt like it's a badge of honor.

My smile flatlines faster than a deflated soufflé.

"Good morning," he says, flashing a grin that's way too confident for someone who just walked into enemy territory. That voice—low and smooth, with just enough gravel to make my stomach do an unwelcome flip.

I cannot believe my mother would stoop so low.

"Phoenix Wood, in the flesh," I say, narrowing my eyes. "You must be lost."

His grin deepens. "You know who I am?"

"Football is hard to avoid when your best friend is married to Joe Matthews." I cross my arms. "I watched you catch his hail Mary pass in the Super Bowl just a few months ago. Pretty sure half the country did."

And I may have screamed myself hoarse when he made that incredible diving catch in the end zone to win the game. Not that I'm admitting that out loud.

"Plus, you're all over my parents' marketing materials now," I add. "Guess retiring at the top of your game leaves time for new ventures."

He chuckles. "Joe's the best quarterback I ever had the honor of playing with. And Ella is perfect for him."

"So you're in town visiting them," I say, "and decided to make a detour to find the Black Sheep of the Hart family?" I eye his T-shirt like it might spontaneously combust.

He glances down at the logo on his shirt. "Would you believe it's a coincidence that I walked into your shop?"

"No," I say flatly. "So what's the official reason for this visit? Delivering a protein bar bouquet from my mother with a note that says I should go on a diet?"

His eyebrows shoot up. "A protein bar bouquet? Is that a real thing?"

"That's what she gave me for my 30th birthday."

I still remember the exact wording of the note in the birthday card:Hello, 30! It's harder to lose weight as you age, so get healthy now. Love, Mom & Dad.

"Actually," he says, and I can see him choosing his words carefully, "when I mentioned I'd be visiting Joe and Ella, your parents asked if I'd deliver a message while I'm here."

I roll my eyes. "Let me guess what they want. I should drink a green smoothie, do some trust falls, and rebrand my bakery into a wellness café called 'Gigi's Guilt-Free Goodies'?"

"Honestly?" Phoenix tilts his head, studying me like I'm a particularly interesting puzzle. "They just want to talk about your future with the company."

"Hard pass."

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