Tomorrow will bring pie crusts, Maggie’s commentary, and hopefully a reprieve of drama. The black-moment storm might already be brewing beyond the treeline.
But tonight, the arch stands, the lights glow, and Addison Bennett just kissed me under a sky full of fireflies. That’s real enough to carry me anywhere.
16
FRESH BREW, STALE RUMORS
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 11
Addison
Beans & Brew is already in full swing when I step inside — espresso steam fogging the front windows, mismatched mugs clinking, indie guitar riffing just loud enough to swallow a confession. Half the town lines up at the counter. I thread through, craving ten quiet minutes with an iced Americano and the floral-budget spreadsheet open on my tablet.
Plan, meet obstacle.
A cloud of ocean-cologne wafts across my path. Simon Baxter — realtor extraordinaire, owner of more pocket squares than client follow-ups — blocks the aisle with a grin so professionally whitened it could guide ships into harbor. Every time I see him, I picture a champagne flute, and a price tag dangling from it.
“Well, if it isn’t Addison Bennett,” he purrs, sliding a hand into his blazer pocket like a magician about to pull out another business card. “Good morning.”
I angle to pass. He re-angles, mirroring me like a bad improv partner. “Simon, hi. Need a staging consult for your next open house, or just caffeine?”
“Caffeine, for sure.” He flicks a glance toward the barista, a rehearsed nod that says, ‘put it on the account I definitely deserve.’ “But more than coffee, I need the inside scoop.”
Every radar dish in my brain swivels. Not now, Universe. I have budgets, not time.
Simon rests a forearm on the pastry case, showing off a Rolex so shiny it’s probably never met drywall dust. “Word is you’ve hired yourself a puppy in work boots out at Coxwell Orchard.”
Translation takes a beat, but when it lands, my back straightens. “If by ‘puppy’ you mean a certified carpenter who volunteers as a fireman and supports community projects — then yes, Dylan Smyth is helping me.”
Simon’s grin widens, all canines. “Ah, cradle-robbing for free labor. Clever.”
A barista two machines down actually gasps. The steam wand shrieks like it heard a slur.
Heat floods my cheeks, but it’s a burn of fury, not shame. I drop my tote on a stool and square my shoulders. “What exactly are you implying, Simon?”
He lifts both hands, faux innocent. “Relax. Town’s just curious. Planner extraordinaire scoring young volunteer muscle just in time for a high-profile wedding? People put two and two together.”
“People,” I echo, “or you?”
He chuckles. “I’m merely the friendly messenger. Wouldn’t want your stellar reputation tarnished by speculation.”
“Speculation like…?” I know I shouldn’t bite. I bite.
“Like how you’re really paying him. Blueberry pie? Fringe benefits?” He draws air quotes so aggressively they probably count as cardio. “We remember last summer’s traveler influencer situation. Younger guy breaks your heart, you swear off dating, now you’ve upgraded to a local model with power tools?”
Behind the counter, my favorite barista raises her brows so high they practically jump her bangs. She mouths Yikes.
I plant a smile — too sharp, too many teeth. “Funny how your version skips the part where I offered my event planner services to Dylan to help out with his fundraiser.”
Simon shrugs a blazered shoulder. “Even volunteers expect something, Addison. Maybe you’re paying in… exposure.”
“Exposure?” I laugh once, because the alternative is dunking him in the cold-brew keg. “What is this, Instagram sponsorship? Dylan’s building an arch, not posing for a protein powder campaign. Anyways, we’re bartering, Simon. Did you fail middle school history?”
Simon leans closer, his cologne trying to colonize my lungs. “Look, you’ve been burned before. The travel blogger cheated. Small towns never forget. A woman with your… maturity… should court more sophisticated men. Men with,” he tilts his wrist, letting the Rolex flash, “experience.”
“Sophisticated.” I tap my chin. “Like men who talk about other people behind their backs? How refined.”
“Come on now. I’m offering perspective. People judge. And perception is reality in our line of work.”
