Page 62 of Keeping Secrets

“So I’m not special,” she said with a laugh that was halfway to a sob.

“You are. Just not because of that.” He put a finger under her chin, barely touching her, and she turned her face toward his. Her nose was still pink from the cold, and there were tears in her eyes, and she was beautiful. He leaned forward and kissed her softly. And then he poured each of them a cup of tea.

“Ready for dessert?” she asked. Her tone was one of bright determination, begging him to put down the burdens of the past and just be present with her here in the sunshine.

He was happy to oblige. Regardless of what happened, they would always have this moment: sitting here in the sunshine, just them and nature, enjoying each other’s company. “Always.”

“I went a bit crazy baking last night,” she said as she opened the first container. “I made piles of macarons, even though I don’t think I’ll do that for the event this weekend. It’s more of a Plan B.”

“Your Plan B is phenomenal,” he said through a mouthful of lemon macaron.

She laughed. “They turned out pretty good.”

“These are phenomenal.” He bit into a pink and green macaron. It tasted like the cake they had eaten on their first date, rose and pistachio. “These are the best macarons I’ve ever had.”

“Thanks.” She selected a chocolate one and bit into it delicately, which made him feel a bit self-conscious about shoving them into his mouth whole. Not enough to stop, maybe, but still.

“And this is only the first container?” he asked between bites.

“It’s probably the best one,” she said as she opened the other two. “These are some meringues that I was thinking of serving with lemon curd, like deconstructed lemon meringue? But they didn’t turn out like I hoped, not good enough for the event this weekend. And this box here has shortbread cookies, another piece of the same idea.”

“I bet Guillermo and Sunday would love deconstructed lemon meringue.”

“I think so too. If I can execute it well. It’s not quite there yet.”

“Keely,” he said after he had sampled both, “these are amazing. The meringues taste like roasted marshmallows, and these cookies melt in your mouth.”

“They’re not bad,” she acknowledged with a small smile, “but they’re not good enough. Yet.”

“Well, it’s all delicious. And like I said, your Plan B is amazing.”

“Yeah, right now Plan B is looking like my Plan A. But I don’t know, a macaron tower doesn’t feel good enough. Not for what they expect, for what their standards are. Every day that I get closer to their party without having a plan in place, I get more and more anxious.”

He ran his thumb across the back of her hand. “You’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah.” She let out a huff of breath and picked up another macaron. “Thanks.”

They were quiet for a while, eating the treats that Keely had made.

He loved the white noise here, the steady crash of waves on rocks and wind whipping over the tops of the cliffs. He could even catch snatches of the elephant seals’ noises every now and then. Like the beauty of the drive, sitting on this beach with Keely kept his anxiety at bay.

“How’s Scot?” she asked after a while.

And there it was again. “He fears the worst.”

She sat up straight, eyes wide. “Like, terminal?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly. “I didn’t mean that. At least I don’t think – God, I hope not. No, but he’s worried that he’s not fit to run a business anymore. He thinks that he never will be again, that he’s only going to get worse.”

“He wants to sell the bar?”

Travis shook his head slowly. “He wants me to run it.”

“But that’s wonderful.”

He looked at her, surprised by her reaction.

“Travis, he wants to hand it over to you. It will still be there for him, but he won’t have to deal with the daily stress of it. Do you not want to take over the bar?”

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