Page 22 of Red, White, and You

“Excellent.” She sounds pleased. “When should we expect to hear your decision?”

I stare at the half-frosted cupcakes in front of me, each one suddenly redolent of shame. I thought I was falling for someone who saw me. Whochoseme.

Turns out I was just part of his paycheck.

“Soon,” I manage.

“I’m proud of you, Georgina,” she says. “It shows real maturity, finally thinking about your future.”

She hangs up.

I stand there, phone in hand, while the frosting slowly hardens on the counter. Outside the bakery window, Honeysuckle Ridge is waking up—Mr. Hendricks is unlocking the hardware store,and Mrs. Patterson is out walking her dog in her patriotic sun visor like it’s any other day.

But it’s not any other day.

Because I just found out the man I kissed under a sky full of fireworks was beingpaidto manipulate me all along.

The festival, the late-night cake, the way he looked at me like I was worthsomething—all of it, staged.

A performance.

I think about his hands on my face, the softness in his voice when he said he was glad I showed up. The firework finale blooming behind him. The way it felt like the world had stopped for us.

It was never real.

My chest tightens, my throat burns. I grab my phone and call Ella.

She picks up immediately. “Please tell me this is a post-kiss debrief, because—"

“Can you come to the bakery?” I interrupt. “I just… I need you here.”

She’s silent for half a beat. “I’m on my way.”

I hang up and set the phone gently beside the piping bag. My hands shake as I turn back to the cupcakes.

I keep decorating. One swirl at a time. Because that’s what I do—I bake, I build, I keep going.

Even when everything I thought wassafeshatters around me.

Even when I realize the man I trusted most was only here because of a bonus clause.

Even when I know I should’ve seen it coming.

Because that’s the thing about heartbreak—it doesn’t care how smart you are. It doesn’t care how guarded you’ve been. It just walks right in, says all the right things, and leaves you in the wreckage.

And me?

I was ajob assignment.

And like always, I’m the one left cleaning up the mess.

Chapter 13

Phoenix

I'mpracticallyfloatingdownMain Street, hands in my pockets, whistling happily.

The kiss, the way Gigi melted into me, the feel of her hand resting on my chest like it belonged there—I haven’t felt this sure of anything in years. Since my football career ended, I’ve been drifting. But now? I know exactly where I want to be.

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