The following day, Molly arrived at the patisserie a few minutes early, still nervous at the thought of seeing Jesse behind the counter, despite having stern words with her inner self that she could do this. She slipped inside and glanced around, then relaxed when she saw no sign of him.
The interior wasn’t at all what she’d expected. With compact marble-topped tables and cane chairs spilling out into a leafy courtyard overlooking the bay, the place had a cute Parisian vibe—alluring and intimate. Molly inhaled deeply, the smell of freshly baked pastries a pleasant distraction from her otherwise anxious state.
CeCe joined her moments later, and they ordered at the register before settling in the courtyard beside a rocky pond speckled with goldfish. Her cousin reached into her bag and pulled out a manila envelope, which she slid across the table. “Postal delivery for one Molly Parker.”
“Thanks.” Molly studied the envelope, her brother’s chaotic handwriting stirring the first pang of homesickness she’d experienced since moving to Clifton Falls weeks before. She knew what the mail would be. According to Patrick, two business-sized envelopes and a card addressed to her had arrived in the family mailbox back home in Tulloch Point. She assumed the card was an invitation to a friend’s wedding in Melbourne and the other envelopes—probably her credit card statements.
She set the mail on the empty chair to her left.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” CeCe asked.
“No. It can wait until I get home.”
“Speaking of, how are you settling in at Gloria’s?”
Gloria Conte, a flamboyant older woman and now Molly’s landlady, had been friends with CeCe’s mum, Andrea, for many years, which was how Molly had ended up renting the tiny house at the bottom of her garden. “Good. I miss having a bathtub, but other than that, it’s all I need right now. And the garden’s gorgeous. I’d be hard-pressed to find anything better.”
“And your Valentine’s Day? Did a secret crush arrive on your doorstep with a dozen reds and a chilled bottle of Moët?”
“As if I could keep that under wraps.” She smiled. Apart from the lack of sex, not having a man in her life at the moment didn’t really bother her. However, Valentine’s Day held an exception to that assertion. “But I did stumble across someone from my past yesterday. And I mean almostliterallystumbled.”
“Really? Who?”
Molly looked up as the server set their coffees on the table. She took a sip, her thoughts turning to Jesse. Desperate to share her traffic-light experience, she wondered if CeCe would recall the “Molly and Jesse” backstory. “Do you remember a guy named Jesse who lived in Tulloch Point the summer you met Luka? He played in that country rock band, the one with the ridiculously hot lead singer.”
“Um. Didn’t several of your exes play in bands?”
Molly chuckled. “You make me sound like some serial groupie.”
“Unintended.” CeCe’s expression softened. “Oh yes, you mean that guy who tossed you the L-word then, as soon as the sex was over, exposed his cold shoulder and told you to leave?”
“Yes. What a guy.” In spite of her efforts to pretend otherwise, memories of that night still hurt more than they should. But nobody likes rejection, especially when it comes out of left field. “I saw him stopped at the lights by the sunken garden yesterday morning. Almost tripped over my sneakers.”
CeCe waited while the server delivered their cakes and then continued, “And you’re sure it was him? It’s been what…? Eight years at least.”
Eight years and three weeks.“Almost certain.”
“Did he recognize you?”
“I think so. Well, he stared for a moment—frowned. The long hair’s gone, but that face was so familiar. Last I heard, he was in Europe. But his family lives here, or at least they used to. He went to Clifton Falls High.”
“What’s his surname?”
Molly leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Sinclair. Jesse Sinclair. Ring any bells?”
CeCe shook her head. “Not really. Why are you whispering?”
“Because he works here, apparently.”
“Here?” CeCe tapped an index finger on the table. “As in, right here in this very space?”
“Yep. But no looking back, right?”
Eyes wide, CeCe cradled her cup and grinned. “Given that Luka was my second chance, I don’t really subscribe to that clichéd view. He could be worth a quick look, don’t you think?”
“Nope. There will always be exceptions, and you guys are it for me, but we had our moment. I can’t imagine what we would say to each other after all this time.”
At the sound of a text alert, Molly opened her tote, pulled out her phone, and checked the home screen. She switched it tosilentbefore slipping it back into the side pocket. Patrick’s text could wait. And as CeCe tucked into her ricotta and coconut torte, Molly wondered what life was like now for the insta-love crush of her early twenties.
