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“Licensing program?” Caroline asks with innocent curiosity.

“Regional chains with proven success models and superior resources,” Penelope explains with theatrical enthusiasm. “Much more reliable than local businesses that depend on... personal... relationships for sustainability.”

There it is. The real reason for this visit. Not just to gloat over my romantic failure, but to announce that while I was distracted by feelings and collaboration, she was positioning herself to destroy my business through legitimate bureaucratic channels.

“How progressive,” Jessica says with venom that could strip paint.

“I think so too. Twin Waves deserves professional food service options that can provide consistent quality and reliable hours.” Penelope’s gaze sweeps around my coffee shop with obvious disdain. “Sometimes local businesses become too... invested... in personal drama to maintain professional standards.”

The accusation stings because it carries enough truth to hurt. I have been distracted by personal feelings. I did allow attraction to override professional judgment. And now I’m paying the price for believing that business partnership could coexist with romantic possibility.

“Well,” I say, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the rage building in my chest, “I suppose we’ll see how the community responds to those new options.”

“Oh, I’m confident they’ll appreciate having choices.” Penelope heads toward the door with obvious satisfaction at having delivered maximum damage. “After all, people deservebusinesses they can depend on, not ones that might close due to owner... instability.”

The door chimes behind her exit, leaving my coffee shop in stunned silence. Caroline stares after her with obvious confusion, Mrs. Hensley looks ready to commit violence, and Jessica’s hands have clenched into fists that suggest she’s calculating whether assault charges would be worth the satisfaction.

“What a…lovely lady…” Caroline says, deadpan.

“Caroline.”

“I mean it. That was completely uncalled for.”

Mrs. Hensley nods with vigorous agreement. “That woman has been looking for ways to undermine local businesses since she moved here. Using your personal situation to advance her own agenda is despicable.”

The support should comfort me, but instead it highlights how exposed I’ve become. How my private heartbreak has turned into public vulnerability that people like Penelope can exploit for her own advantage.

“She’s not wrong though,” I say quietly. “I did let personal feelings compromise professional judgment.”

“No,” Jessica says with fierce conviction. “You tried to build something better than purely transactional business relationships. That’s not a character flaw, it’s evidence that you’re a human being with a heart.”

“A heart that apparently makes me a liability in small-town business competition.”

“Michelle—”

My phone buzzes against the counter. Grayson’s name appears on the screen, and my chest clenches with the reflexive hope that maybe he’s calling to explain, to take back this morning’s devastating dismissal, to prove that I misunderstood his motivations.

“Don’t answer it,” Jessica says, reading my expression.

“I’m not going to.”

But I don’t decline the call either. I let it ring through to voicemail while everyone in the coffee shop pretends not to notice my obvious internal struggle.

The voicemail notification appears immediately. My finger hovers over the playback button while Jessica shakes her head and Caroline watches with fascinated attention.

I delete the message without listening.

“Good choice,” Jessica says.

“Is it? Because now I’ll spend the rest of the day wondering what he wanted to say.”

“Nothing worth hearing, apparently, or he would have said it this morning instead of delivering a professional breakup that left you in pieces.”

The brutal assessment lands with uncomfortable accuracy. Because that’s exactly what happened—a professional breakup delivered with corporate efficiency designed to minimize emotional fallout.

For him.

For me, it’s just another reminder that my ability to separate business from personal feelings apparently doesn’t exist.