Page 27 of The Good Luck Cafe
Gil was enjoying their friendly back-and-forth. “It’s my promise that it will.”
“And Mayor Gil Ryan always keeps his promises,” Moira said, her tone shifting to something that sounded resentful.
He dropped his gaze for a moment. “I try to. I might have made a few too many promises during my last campaign. You step into something like the mayor’s office and you think you can change the world. That’s what I thought, at least. It’s easier said than done. There’s red tape to get through. Green tape, yellow tape, purple tape. If you make one person happy, you make another one livid.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know I’ve left a lot to be desired as a mayor.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I think you’ve done a lot for this town,” Moira said. “You have made positive changes.”
“Yeah, well, some people focus on the things that didn’t happen.”
“Like the parking lot,” Moira said knowingly.
Gil kept the speed of the boat slow and easy, just like the lake’s current. “When I made promises about solving Hannigan Street’s parking issue, I just knew there was a need and that I would meet it. I didn’t have a plan. Didn’t have a single idea about how to make things happen. I certainly wasn’t thinking that your mom’s location would be the place.”
“Gil, you can’t move my mom’s bakery. That isn’t right. It isn’t fair. There must be another way.”
“This is what you wanted to discuss tonight, isn’t it?”
Moira looked at him. “It’s my family’s business. I won’t apologize for fighting for it.”
“You don’t need to. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.” He cut the motor and walked over to where he kept the anchor, tossing it into the water. Then he took the seat across from her, suspecting she needed her space. There was an invisible bubble around Moira that he always respected. “I love your mom and her bakery. I don’t want to do anything to hurt your family.”
She searched his gaze and then looked past him. Gil followed her gaze to the sinking sun, melting into the mountainscape beyond the lake with brilliant oranges and pinks. “I didn’t even know Mom had sold the building until after it was a done deal. She never told me.” Moira pressed her lips together and seemed to swallow. “There were treatments my dad needed when he first got diagnosed. She wanted him to have the best care, so she sold the building with the unwritten promise she could keep her business there.”
“Nothing was supposed to change.”
Moira wrung her hands together in her lap. Gil had never known her to be a nervous person. She was confident and went after the things she believed in. She was always the first to sign up to help a worthy cause in town. He’d always respected that about her. “Can we buy the building back? To keep the parking lot from happening?”
Gil grimaced. “Moira, it’s not up to me, and honestly, I don’t think the town council would agree. There’s no place for a new parking lot except where Sweetie’s is currently located. It’s at the end of the shopping strip. A vacant spot in the middle of one would never do even if there was one available. It’s what’s best for the town.”
“The town has been just fine all these years,” Moira objected.
“Has it? You know what happened with the accident on Hannigan Street this week. It took twice the time it should have to get medical attention to those involved. A new parking lot would eliminate street-side parking and free up room for emergency crews,” Gil said.
Moira leaned forward and grabbed Gil’s hand. The unexpected touch took him by surprise. For a moment, he didn’t breathe, didn’t blink.
“What can I do? I’ll do it. I’ll do anything to save Sweetie’s.”
Gil wanted to make this right for Moira. He suspected she rarely ever asked for help, and he was probably the last person she would go to. This was important to her. “Moira, I’m still racking my brain for ways to make everyone happy.” The sad truth though was that a politician couldn’t make everyone happy all the time. There was always someone who was left sad, mad, or disappointed. “Putting a parking lot on the corner of Hannigan and Good Luck Avenue isn’t written in stone.”
She looked down at her feet for a moment, drawing Gil’s attention there. She was wearing a pair of leather sandals, her toenails painted a soft blue. She wore a delicate-looking anklet with a tiny, heart-shaped charm that draped over her anklebone. “I appreciate that, Gil,” she finally said. “If there’s anything you can do to turn this decision around, I would be forever grateful.” She looked up, and there was something vulnerable in her eyes.
He’d said it wasn’t written in stone, but that was just him letting her down easy. Misleading her in any way was wrong, but he didn’t want to witness the complete devastation on her face. He knew he had no earthly chance with Moira romantically, but he didn’t want her to hate him anymore.
A soft breeze blew off the water, sending a lock of Moira’s dark hair dancing over her cheek. Gil had to suppress his desire to swipe the hair away for her. He cleared his throat. “About that night…We never really talked about it,” Gil said. His brain was already screaming at him to back away from the subject. Moira was in his boat. She was actually having a civil conversation with him right now.Don’t ruin it, Gil.“I’m sorry.”
Moira looked up at him with wide eyes. “What exactly are you apologizing for?” There was something fragile in her tone of voice, but he wasn’t sure why.
He shrugged. “I ruined your date. You were having a good time with Felix, and I came over and insisted on taking you home.” He realized later that he’d probably embarrassed her. That hadn’t been his intention. “And I’m sorry for calling the police on you when you trashed my apartment the next night.” He shook his head. “Granted, I didn’t know it was you. If I had, I would never have called them. I probably deserved to have my place trashed. It was rude of me to interrupt your date.”
Moira stared at him expectantly. It suddenly felt like she was waiting for him to apologize for something else. “Yes, you were roommates, but I didn’t intend to ransack your stuff, Gil. I was targeting Felix. I just didn’t know which stuff was his and which was yours,” she finally said. “What I did, when I broke into your apartment, wasn’t against you.”
Gil felt like there was something he was missing. He would wonder if Felix had made unwanted advances on Moira if it weren’t for the fact that Gil was the one who’d driven her home. Felix had never gotten a chance to even try for a good night kiss. “Why? What happened?”
Moira dropped her gaze to her feet and shook her head. “Nothing.” She looked back up at him, her gaze searching his. “Thanks to you.”
Gil let that sink in. For so long, he’d thought she was upset with him for ruining her date—so upset she’d broken into his apartment the next day and trashed it. And then she’d been upset with him for getting her arrested. “How much did you have to drink that night?” he thought to ask. She’d been so intoxicated when he’d walked up to their table that she could barely sit up in her chair.
“Less than one,” Moira answered.
