Page 90 of The Billionaire's Wife

“I do. And I think she’d love to be asked. She’ll probably try to deflect at first, though. Be persistent.”

Megan nodded. “I’ve noticed that tendency. All right. I guess I need to pull the trigger on the permits. I’ve had them saved as drafts for a while. Cody keeps asking about it. What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then you’ll know for sure?” I leaned on the counter. “Do you really only do things when you’re guaranteed an outcome?”

“No.” She nodded. “Point taken. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” We chatted about nothing of consequence while I waited for Faith to change. It didn’t take her long to emerge, wearing her French outfit and carrying the hanging bag. “Ready?”

“I am. Do I get a hint about where we’re headed?”

“Do you want a hint or just the name of the place?”

Faith laughed. “The name. Definitely.”

“Hell’s Kitchen.”

Her eyes widened and her face radiated excitement. “Really? You’re not pulling my leg?”

“I am not. They just opened downtown not long ago. I remember you used to be a big fan of the show.”

“Still am.” Faith bounced up and down on her toes, then, in a rush, pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Best. Ever.”

I laughed and offered my hand. Hopefully, she wouldn’t leave me hanging under Megan’s watchful eye.

She didn’t.

Faith’s fingers wove through mine and she squeezed. She glanced at Megan. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Megan nodded. “Probably not until the afternoon. I think you’ve got it under control.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Megan wiggled her fingers at us. “Go have fun.”

“Bye.” I kept Faith’s hand in mine as I pushed open the door and waited for her to go through. Her reaction to our destination was better than I’d anticipated.

It gave me hope.

24

FAITH

The barista slid the large, teal mug across the counter to me, and I glanced down, then grinned. “Foam art, too?”

The girl nodded. “It’s okay?”

“I love it. Maybe it’s a tad early for Christmas, but probably not. And honestly, if I got a latte with a fancy Christmas tree in the foam in July, I’d probably still be impressed.” I took a second to frame an arty—at least I hoped it was arty—photo of the latte for the store’s social media, then picked up the mug and sipped. “Especially when it tastes this good. Nice job, Carrie.”

Carrie stopped twisting her fingers together and swiped a hand across her forehead in an exaggerated expression of relief. “Whew. Do you think Megan will agree?”

“She’d be crazy not to. And she’s not crazy. You’re a find.”

Carrie laughed. “Well my mom always says that, but I’ll tell you, I was beginning to doubt I’d ever find a job that agreed. My friends all say I’m crazy for turning down the big chain position, but I like working the coffee machines and getting to interact with customers. I think this is going to be ideal. And since my fiancé is good with it, I think I’m in the clear.”

“Sounds like it. When are you getting married?” I sipped the coffee again. Megan really had done a great job in the last month getting the coffee and snack bar set up in the back corner of the bookstore. Finding Carrie to man the thing was nothing short of a miracle. And the last month had made me much more willing to believe that God actually cared about the little things in our lives. That probably counted as another miracle.

“We haven’t set a date yet. He just proposed last week. He said he was trying to wait until Thanksgiving, but he couldn’t take it.” Carrie’s laugh filled the space and she held out the rock sparkling on her left hand. “I can’t say I mind.”

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