Page 41 of Captiva Café

"Millie mentioned Lauren brought them. Thought you might want to enjoy one before they disappear."

Maggie looked at the pastries, then up at Oliver's kind face. They'd known each other going on eighteen months, but in all that time, he'd never once judged her for her occasional sharp edges.

"I was awful to her, wasn't I?" she asked quietly.

Oliver leaned against the doorframe. "Awful's a strong word. But yeah, you probably could've handled it better."

"I don't know how to do this," Maggie admitted, gesturing vaguely at the space around her. "I suddenly feel like everything is out of control. On top of all that, I need to tread lightly with my mother. I know she means well, and truthfully, this isn’t a bad problem to have. What bed & breakfast owner gets upset at having every room booked for months?”

Oliver smiled. "You’re overwhelmed because you're trying to do everything perfectly, which is impossible. The inn will survive if you take an hour off to have coffee with your daughter."

"I know that." Maggie sighed. "Logically, I know that. But in the moment..."

"In the moment, you panic," Oliver finished for her. "Been there. Remember when the health inspector showed up the same day as that wedding reception for the senator's daughter? I nearly threw a spatula at Iris when she asked me about the canapés."

Maggie smiled weakly at the memory. "You did throw a spatula. You just missed."

"The point is," Oliver continued, "we all lose our cool when we're overwhelmed. The trick is figuring out how to make it right afterward."

"Any suggestions?" Maggie asked, picking up one of the pastries.

"Actually, yes." Oliver smiled. "Eat your breakfast, handle the most urgent things, and then take the afternoon off. Go see Lauren. Bring the remaining pastries as a peace offering."

Maggie hesitated. "We're fully booked. Millie can't?—"

"Millie can handle the desk for a few hours," Oliver interrupted gently. "And Iris and I can handle any guest issues that come up. This place doesn't actually fall apart when you're not here, you know."

The statement hung in the air between them, both knowing it wasn't entirely true. The inn did function better with Maggie at the helm—she had a way of anticipating problems before they arose, of soothing disgruntled guests with a perfect blend of charm and authority.

But it wouldn't collapse in her brief absence, either.

"Okay," she said finally. "I'll go this afternoon. After I deal with the air conditioning in Room 4 and call the photographer about tomorrow."

Oliver nodded, satisfied. "Good. And while you're out, I'll handle the menu planning for the weekend. We've got that shellfish delivery coming in, and I've been wanting to try something new with the grouper."

Maggie took a bite of the pastry, letting the buttery layers melt on her tongue. It reminded her of countless mornings with Lauren over the years back in Massachusetts—birthday breakfasts, holiday preparations, quiet moments stolen between the chaos of raising children.

"Thank you," she said simply.

Oliver just smiled and backed out of the office, closing the door behind him.

Alone again, Maggie picked up her phone and typed a quick message to Lauren:I'm sorry about this morning. Can I stop by Sarah's this afternoon? I'll bring the pastries.

Then she set it down and turned to her computer, pulling up the maintenance request form.

A text from Lauren made her smile:How did you know I’d be at Sarah’s?

Maggie answered right away:Because I know my daughters.

She'd allow herself exactly one hour to get through the most critical tasks. And then she would go make things right with her daughter.

Because at the end of the day, no matter how busy the inn got or how many problems cropped up within the island community, family was still the most important thing. She just needed the occasional reminder of that fact.

CHAPTER 14

Maggie walked around to the back of Sarah’s house and stepped onto the beach, her sandals dangling from one hand, a bakery box in the other. Ahead, she could see Lauren and Sarah sitting on a blanket near the water's edge. Daniel lay between them on his back, tiny hands reaching for the colorful pinwheel Sarah held above him.

Maggie paused for a moment, watching her daughters. Lauren's hair shimmered gold in the sunlight, so like her father's had been. Sarah sat cross-legged, her long blond hair pulled back in a casual ponytail. The sight of them together, grown women now with lives and families of their own, still had the power to catch Maggie's breath.

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