“I don’t mind really. It’s a little complicated, and I think it would be better if we talked about it face-to-face. Would that be all right?”

“Well, yes. I guess so.” She sounded confused, perhaps even leery.

“It’s a good thing, Rhetta. I promise. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

Christy-Lynn was tossing her phone back into her purse, pleased to have at least gotten the ball rolling, when she realized she had made plans to go out of town without a thought to store coverage. She was going to have to ask Tamara for a favor.

Tamara was behind the café counter brewing an espresso when Christy-Lynn stepped out of the back room. She looked up, smiling sunnily across the pickup counter. “What’s up, boss?”

“I need a favor.”

“One of my spectacular triple shot lattes?”

“No. I don’t need coffee. I’m in a jam. I have to go out of town Saturday, and I was hoping you could close with Aileen. I hate to spring it on you last minute, but it’s important.”

Tamara disappeared briefly to deliver her espresso then quickly reappeared. “No worries. Do what you have to do. Wait. Don’t go. You skipped lunch. At least let me make you a latte.”

“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver. But only a single shot in the latte.”

She was tidying napkin stacks and coffee stirrers, waiting for Tamara to finish brewing her latte, when she spotted Wade standing in the order line. It was the first time she’d seen him since the fireworks in the boat. God, that sounded bad. Maybe she’d just wait in the back room.

“Christy-Lynn.”

Too late.

“Oh, hey!” Christy-Lynn pasted on a smile, scrambling for something to say. “I didn’t see you there. Sorry. It’s been a crazy day—well, a crazy couple of weeks actually.” She paused to throw in a laugh. It came out sounding forced and slightly deranged. “I’m still trying to get the book club organized and line up events for the fall. I feel like all I do is work. It’s crazy, crazy.”

Wade nodded knowingly. “I know what you mean. I’ve been crazy busy myself. I just popped in to grab coffee, and then I’m on my way to Harmon’s for some two-by-fours. I’ve been working on the deck, replacing some rotted wood. Then I’ll have to restain it all. Hopefully the weather holds.”

Christy-Lynn was still nodding when Wade’s words ran out. There was a gaping moment of quiet, the awkward abyss that descends when two people run out of small talk. So much for it not getting weird.

“Here ya go, boss,” Tamara said mischievously as she pushed an oversize mug across the counter. “Steamy and hot . . . just the way you like it.”

Christy-Lynn shot Tamara her best scary boss face, but Tamara wasn’t finished making mischief. Smiling sweetly, she set a mug of freshly brewed Sumatra on the counter.

“And here’s your coffee, Wade. One sugar already in.”

“I believe Wade wanted his coffee to go, Tamara,” Christy-Lynn pointed out tightly, though she was sure Tamara already knew this.

Wade stepped in, grabbing the mug before Tamara could retrieve it. “No, it’s okay. I can hang out a minute if you’re going to sit.”

Christy-Lynn had no choice but to follow Wade to his usual table. To make an excuse and slink away wouldn’t just be rude; it would be glaringly transparent. She just hoped he didn’t ask about the manuscript. She didn’t want to tell him she hadn’t even picked it up—or to lie about why.

“So . . . you’re going out of town,” he said as soon as they were seated. “I couldn’t help overhearing you talking to Tamara. Anywhere fun?”

Christy-Lynn narrowed her gaze at him, certain he knew exactly where she was going and why. “I have an appointment to see Rhetta. The paperwork isn’t finalized yet, but I thought I’d drive over on Saturday and see what she thinks.”

Wade lowered his mug, brows raised. “Sounds like you’re pretty optimistic if the lawyer’s already drawing up the papers. Have you considered that there could be some pushback from the family?”

“It’s Rhetta I’m worried about convincing, not the family. And why should they push back? I’m giving money away, not asking for it.”

“People are funny when it comes to money. Not everyone’s keen on taking a handout.”

“Except that’s not what this is. The money already belongs to Iris. I’m just making it legal.”

“You don’t have to convince me. I’m just asking the question. I’m curious about where the grandson will stand on all this.”

At the mention of Ray Rawlings, Christy-Lynn felt her face go hot. “I don’t care where he stands. Iris is the one I care about—and Rhetta. As soon as the documents are drawn up, the lawyer will send her a copy to look over. When I’m sure she understands everything, we’ll sign the papers. After that, the funds will be released. I know she hasn’t said yes yet, but she will. I’m determined to make her see that this is the best thing for everyone.”

“Does that include you?”

The question seemed to come out of left field. Not just the words, but the way he’d said them, as if he knew something she didn’t. “I don’t really have anything to do with it.”

“I think we both know that’s not true. From the moment you laid eyes on that girl, you’ve been consumed. It’s like you think by fixing this you can fix all the other stuff.”