Page 17 of The Good Luck Cafe
“Only because Reva put it in her blog.” Moira shook her head with a slight eye roll. “I wish she wouldn’t have included me as a bullet point.”
“Well, you deserve the recognition. Enjoy the spotlight for a moment,” Ronnie said.
Moira released a breath. She’d really thought she might be walking out of this office unemployed, but it didn’t appear that was the case. “I’d hardly call making a bullet point being in the spotlight, but I am breathing a bit easier. I thought you were going to fire me,” she told him on a small laugh.
“No. I’m not firing you. In fact, the town wants to give you an award, Moira.”
“Me?” She’d never been given anything more than a perfect attendance certificate in elementary school. “What kind of award?”
“A public service award. We’re planning to formally give it to you next weekend at the Spring into Somerset Festival.”
Moira blinked again, waiting for the sheriff to start laughing like this was some kind of joke. “You’re serious?”
“Noontime next Saturday,” he confirmed with a nod.
Moira’s argument rested on her tongue. She didn’t want to receive an award, but at this moment, she was just glad not to be getting a pink slip. “Thank you, sir.”
“Thankyou,” he said with an easy smile. Why hadn’t he shown her that smile this morning instead of making her sweat all day?
“Is that all?” Moira asked.
Sheriff Ronnie leaned back in his chair. “Yep. I already spoke to the mayor. He’ll be presenting the award to you next weekend. It’ll shine a nice light on the department as well. Maybe offset the shade that Reva tried to throw our way in her mention of us in the blog.”
Moira’s brain was still processing what he’d said. “Mayor Gil is going to be presenting me with the award?”
Sheriff Ronnie narrowed his gaze. “Doug is his brother, and he’s usually the one who presents these kinds of awards. He said he’d be more than happy to do it. Unless there’s a problem?” Ronnie’s brow lifted subtly.
Moira shook her head, feeling even guiltier over the way she’d treated Gil yesterday. She still hadn’t had a chance to apologize. She was also still confused over the little spark she’d felt at their last interaction. She didn’t feel sparks. That wasn’t like her at all. Hopefully those feelings would be gone when she saw him again. “No. No problem at all.”
“You sure? Because the town council’s decision isn’t his fault. Your mom’s bakery spot is the only solution to the parking issue.”
Moira tilted her head, trying to piece together what exactly he meant by that. For the life of her, she had no idea. “I’m sorry?”
“As you know, parking is a nightmare on Hannigan Street, especially during the holidays and the festivals that occur every time you turn around. That three-car pileup never would have happened if there’d been ample parking on Hannigan Street. And you wouldn’t have had to help Doug if the crews had been able to navigate that street efficiently. As much as I hate to see your mom’s business get booted, a parking lot is necessary for the good of the town.”
Moira was speechless. She really didn’t know what to say. Sheriff Ronnie must be mistaken. She hadn’t heard anything about Sweetie’s Bakeshop being evicted. She stood and offered her hand to shake. “Thank you again, Sheriff.”
Ronnie took her hand. “You’re welcome. See you next weekend. Good job, Moira.”
Moira walked out of the sheriff’s office and past Bonnie at the front desk. She left the building in a blur and got inside her car. A few years ago, her mom had sold the building that Sweetie’s Bakeshop was in. They’d needed money to pay for her dad’s medical expenses. Darla had sold the building under the agreement that her business could remain, however. The town couldn’t just kick her out, demolish the building, and put a parking lot in its place. Could it?
Moira cranked her car’s engine and started driving. She needed to clear this up right now. It wasn’t true. Whatever the sheriff had been talking about, it had to be a misunderstanding. When she arrived at Sweetie’s Bakeshop and walked in, her mom’s part-time help was behind the counter.
“Hey, Bailey. Is my mom here?” Moira looked past the nineteen-year-old into the back room.
“Nope. She left a while ago. It’s just me,” Bailey said.
Moira found that strange. Even when Bailey was here, Darla typically stuck around to cook or clean. “Was she feeling okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I think so, at least. She just said she had some errands to take care of.”
“Thanks.” Moira turned to leave and nearly bumped into none other than Gil himself. Anger flared hot over every square inch of her body.
“Moira. Hi.” Gil had this intense way of looking at her. No one else had ever looked at her quite that way before. It used to annoy her to no end, but she’d felt differently the other day. Right now, however, the look was more than annoying. She was infuriated.
“How can you smile at me like that after what you decided to do to my mom’s business?”
Gil frowned. “She told you?”
