Page 19 of Red, White, and You

Fifty thousand dollars.That’s what her parents promised if I could “nudge” their daughter toward Hart Health. Not even a hard sell—just encouragement. A little influence. A push.

At the time, it seemed harmless. It was supposed to be a quick trip. A simple task.

Then I met her.

Gigi, with her flour-dusted clothes and fierce independence. Who bakes like she’s performing alchemy and smiles from the heart. Who built something beautiful in a town her parents think is too small for her.

And I’m supposed to help dismantle it.

I can’t.

Iwon’t.

"You're brooding," Joe says, settling onto the blanket beside me with two beers.

"I’m not brooding," I mutter. “I’m thinking.”

"About a certain baker who brought you a cake at midnight?"

I glance toward Gigi, who’s laughing as she unpacks a cooler with Ella. She’s wearing a pale blue sundress that ties at the shoulder, and she’s so gorgeous ithurts. She outshines every model, every actress, every NFL player’s trophy wife that I’ve ever met.

And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even know.

“Among other things,” I say.

Joe follows my gaze, then hands me a beer. “She likes you. Ella says she’s been asking questions.”

That only makes my gut twist harder. “What kind of questions?”

“The kind that mean she’s not thinking of you as her parents’ errand boy.”

If only he knew how right—and wrong—that was.

“How’s that situation going, by the way?” Joe asks casually. “The whole Hart Health ambassador gig?”

My stomach drops.

“Complicated,” I say.

“Isn’t it always.”

I watch Gigi crouch down to hand a cookie to a little girl with pigtails. She ruffles the kid’s hair, says something that makes her beam. Gigi doesn’t justlivein this town—she belongs to it.

“She’s happy here,” I say. “Her parents don’t see it, but she’s built a life that fits her better than any boardroom ever could.”

Joe hums in agreement. “Maybe you could be happy here, too. I am.”

Could I be happy here?I look around at the crowd of people on the hill, at the couples sprawled on blankets, the old people in lawn chairs, and the kids chasing each other with sparklers. My eyes settle on Gigi again.Yes,I think I could be very happy here.

“Phoenix!” Gigi calls, holding a cookie in the air in one hand, and a brownie in the other. “Come settle a debate. Cookies or brownies for optimal fireworks enjoyment?”

I glance at Joe.

“Go,” he says, already smirking. “You’re being summoned.”

I cross the short distance to her blanket and stand in front of her. “Is this a test?”

“Yes,” she says, grinning. “If you could only choose one, which would it be?”

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