Page 4 of Fake It Till We Fall
“I’ve got it,” I said. “I’ll handle the interviews, the menu changes, and the ordering.”
“Menu changes?” She held a spoonful of sugar before stirring it into her tea. “Why do we need menu changes?”
I was worried she might push back on a few of the changes I wanted to make. “Nothing too crazy, Grandma. I thought maybe if we streamlined things a little, keeping the classics and a few of the old favorites, it might be a bit more manageable.”
I held my breath, ready for her pushback, but it didn’t come.
Instead, she stirred the sugar into her mug and nodded. “Whatever you think is best.”
What I really thought was best was for her to close Willa’s Whisk entirely and enjoy her retirement. Especially if she was ill. But I knew I’d have to ease her into the idea of that very gently.
“I don’t want you to worry about anything, Grandma,” I told her. “I’ll take care of whatever I can on this list and get some good help in here for you.” I lifted my mug to my lips and blew the heat off. “I’ll feel better when I leave knowing you have?—”
“What do you mean, when you leave?”
I set the mug down again. “After New Year’s.”
Her brows rose. “New Year’s?”
“That was the plan,” I said as lightly as I could. “I promised I’d stay through the holidays. After that, I’m hoping to get on as head chef on a new boat for the charter season. I told you?—”
She waved away my explanation. “Let’s just take it one day at a time.”
I bit my tongue and once more picked up my tea.
“You know,” she said casually, “Trickle Creek during the holidays is a busy time. You’ll probably run into a lot of people you haven’t seen in a long time. It’s hard to avoid people in a small town.”
“That’s true.” I didn’t meet her eyes.
“I’m sure some of those people will be pretty happy to see you, too,” she added, her tone far too innocent.
I lifted one brow. “Is that your not-so-subtle way of telling me Grayson Lyons still lives in town?”
“Oh. You remember him?”
“You know I do.” I shook my head. “And this is where you tell me he’s happily married with three kids and that it could have been me.”
Grandma sipped her tea and smiled behind the mug. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise, sweetheart.”
I rolled my eyes. “Grayson Lyons is old news, Grandma.”
It had been fifteen years since he broke my heart. I wasn’t that girl anymore.
Besides, that was more than enough time to get over a teenage heartbreak.
Wasn’t it?
Grayson
The lift groanedas I eased it to the edge of the plaza. After working all day, the lights were now untangled and almost most of the poles were wrapped, as well as the brand-new flags Tilley wanted hung.
My gloves were stiff from the cold, and my thumb throbbed from wrestling with an extra stubborn plug earlier.
There were still a handful of poles to wrap before I could call the job done. At least until Tilley assigned me another urgent holiday task. But first, I needed a quick warm-up.
I parked the lift by the flower shop and climbed down. I had to admit, the plaza was starting to look good, decorated for the holidays.
The gazebo, which served as the centerpiece of the plaza, held a festive throne where Santa would sit soon to meet all the kids and hear their Christmas wishes. Garlands were strung over walkways, wreaths hung on the shop doors, and pine boughs framed windows.
