Page 48 of Sweet Summertide

Holly tossed a pie-sized piece of glass into the can. “I was supposed to go out with Teddy last night, so I just walked all the way to his cabin. I didn’t want to go anywhere else. And I didn’t want him to think I stood him up. It was way late as it was. But when I got to his place, he took care of me and we …”

“Blake Hollis, what did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Is nothing the reason he isn’t here with you right now?”

“No.” Holly swallowed her disgrace. “He’s not here right now because I accused him of arson this morning.”

“You didn’t!” Millie gasped.

All Holly could do was nod.

“You were right, this day can’t really get much worse for you. What are you going to do about it?” Millie stood as she put all the pieces together. “Oh my god. You love him, don’t you.”

Holly shrugged and looked across the street, hoping to glimpse his smile or ridiculous man-bun. “It doesn’t matter now. I doubt he’ll ever forgive me.”

Millie snapped her fingers in front of Holly’s blank stare. “Earth to Holly. He loves you too. It makes what you did hurt more. All you have to do is apologize. And mean it.”

“I have so much to do,” Holly said as the contractor approached them out front. His eyes were like slits from his fake smile pushing his cheeks up. “That bad?”

“You want the good news first? It looks like the structure is intact. Some shoring up on the site where the fire started wouldn’t be a bad idea but it’s sound. Some masonry work and new electrical upstairs should take care of that.”

“And the bad?” Holly braced herself on Millie’s arm.

“You’ve got asbestos tiles on the second floor. It’s a big job.”

“Can I just leave it for now? So long as we don’t disturb them?” She put her had together at her chest like she was praying to the reno-gods.

“I’m afraid the fire and water constitute a disturbance. You’ll need to get it taken care of before anyone can occupy this space.”

“I understand.” She removed her yellow rubber glove and shook his hand. “Can we get started now?”

He nodded and pulled out his phone. “I’ll line up my guys right now,” he said and took his phone from his shirt pocket.

“I don’t have much money,” Holly dug in her pocket for the wad of cash her dad had slipped to her in the clubhouse. She counted out the Benjamins.

Millie snatched the bills. “Where did you get all this cash, Holly?”

“My dad, and it’s all I have left. Will it be enough?”

Millie smiled. “I think it’s plenty.”

“Don’t worry about the details,” the man said. “We’ll get this place straightened out in no time.” He took the money from Millie and walked to his truck.

“I need new glass too!” Holly yelled as though he had missed the giant gaping holes in the front of her store. She turned to Millie and with sheer willpower sucked her tears back into her head. “Let’s hope he can get this work done like yesterday.”

Millie wrapped her arms around Holly. “We need a drink. Come on, let’s take a break.”

Holly was in no mood to put up a fight, and the two women walked down the road to the restaurant at the end of the street with one goal in mind—drowning Holly’s terrible day in a giant margarita.

CHAPTER 24

Following the burning—bothHolly’s skin and her business—Theodor spent the next three days watching her through his front windows. Sure, he was checking up on her from a distance, but it was hard not to notice the crews coming and going from her store in dance-like precision. As a spectator, there were more than enough happenings across the street to keep him entertained. As a business owner trying to get everything perfect for the soft-opening when the Chamber members would conduct their review, the commotion across the road was an unnecessary distraction.

Tomorrow was the day when Theodor’s concept would be tested for the first time. All the weeks of work while dodging Holly’s efforts to sabotage him came down to how the next twenty-four hours went. His selections had already been well received at the tasting, the open house, and the chocolate festival at the Foundry, but those events were special occasions. It remained to be seen how the general public would accept a local chocolaterie.

Ignoring yet another pickup truck blocking the sidewalk out front, he stood just inside his front doors and looked at the tall shelf that anchored the rear portion of the shop. He took in thespace from the customer’s point of view. He had displayed his merchandise over and over again, not satisfied with the impact he hoped the items would have. The vibe he wanted was more dark-academia and less tourist-trap-at-the-boardwalk, but the T-shirts hanging on the adjacent wall were screaming gift-shop.

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