Page 130 of How to Break My Heart
“He did get a Michelin star,” I remind her.
“Yes, but does the Michelin star make coffee for Mrs. McGregor the way she likes it?”
Elliot tilts his head, rubbing his stubble. “Who’s Mrs. McGregor?”
“You met herthis morning!”
“I’m kidding. Relax,” Elliot drags. “Grande flat white with a triple shot of espresso and nonfat milk, extra foam but only on the bottom half of the cup. Shot of caramel and no sweetener.”
Everleigh crosses her arms. “Fine, you win.”
“And we will both win if we leave now,” I urge, tugging on her sleeve.
Our bags are packed and waiting in the car. I organized for a driver to take us straight to the airport so we don’t miss the flight.
Elliot hugs Everleigh, giving her more suggestions of where to visit around Paris. We have two whole weeks to ourselves before I am due back in Manhattan. Elliot and Chloe are managing the store, with Billie returning early next week.
Since my so-called viral post, the store has been incredibly busy, but Elliot insisted he could manage. Frankly, many of the customers are young women, and apparently, Elliot has also gone viral. The small-town chef has a major following. It wasn’t my place to inform Everleigh her brother is more than busy after-hours, since she was worried he may get bored.
With the success of the store, Everleigh mentioned the possibility of opening another store in Manhattan with Billie taking over. After the death of her mother, Billie decided she wanted a different pace. It made sense, and so did calling the broker to organize some appointments when we return.
Everleigh insisted we wait until later in the year, but the rule of thumb in business is to strike when the iron is hot. We argued and had make-up sex, and now Everleigh is open to inspecting some storefronts.
The traffic is smooth with no major delays on the interstate.My phone rings in my pocket, so I remove it to see Madelina’s nickname flashing on the screen.
“Hey brat,” I tease upon answering. “You’re on speaker.”
“Yeah, you’re on speaker so I can hear just how amazing Europe is!” Everleigh’s eyes light up. “Is it just as fun as when we went?”
“Sure.” Madelina laughs over the speaker. “Though instead of chugging tequila shots in a rowdy bar in Dublin, I’m lying on a lounge chair in Saint-Tropez and being served by extremely good-looking men.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, not because my sister is enjoying gawking at French men, but because she finally sounds like the weight of the world has been lifted off her shoulders.
Harvey has decided to disown her, much to her disappointment. Unlike me, Madelina did have a relationship with him, but since our family name was dragged through the tabloids the last few weeks, Harvey has gone into hiding.
Frankly, I don’t care where he is as long as it’s far away from me.
“You need this break, Maddy. Just soak up the sun and enjoy your freedom,” Everleigh reminds her. “We’ll see you in a few days when you’re back in Paris.”
“See you guys then.”
We hang up the call, only for Everleigh to rest her head on my shoulder.
“Do you think Maddy will be okay?”
“My sister will bounce back. She always does.”
“But she sounds lonely,” Everleigh murmurs. “I know Myles wasn’t the love of her life, but where do you think she’s going to find him?”
I shrug. “Maybe he’s right under her nose. Give it time, Everleigh. Madelina needs to heal.”
“It’s going to be hard coming back to Cinnamon Springs. Maybe she’ll meet a French guy and fall in love…”
“Perhaps” is all I say.
Everleigh changes subjects and begins to complain about these two girls who ordered a pineapple donut to share, then stalked Elliot when he locked up yesterday.
“You know, he’s probably going to bring them back to your apartment,” I tell her.
