Page 39 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

We put on some speed, but we never caught Chester. The man must’ve had some secret marathon background, because he started out fast, then he kept running fast, and by the three-kilometer mark, we’d lost him completely. And Brad was right: the dark clouds were clearing. We ran out of a gray morning threatening rain and into a gorgeous one, the sun overhead, the sky and the ocean a clear, spotless blue. The last leg of our run took us along the beach path, curving under the bluff where the wishing bell hung, around past the lighthouse, straight to Hidden Beach. I put on a burst of speed at the last second and crossed over the finish line two steps before Brad.

“Sixty-sixth,” shouted Alice. “And sixty-seventh!”

Brad grinned and high-fived me. I laughed aloud. The runners ahead of us were spread out on the beach, some in their swimsuits, some stretched out on towels, some sampling the picnic laid out on long tables. Kids were running all over, splashing in the waves. I spotted Chester and Rex over by the old pier, plotting, no doubt, to come fishing later. Dora was working the busy drinks table, handing out juice and water to thirsty runners.

“I should go help her,” I said.

“Hold on,” said Alice. She took me by the arm and pulled me aside, over to the deserted first-aid station. She had her legal pad with her, and she turned it to show me.

“What am I looking at?”

“I added them up.” She ran her finger down a long line of figures, and as I followed, I felt my eyes go huge. I felt like my insides had gone light as air, like I might float away at the slightest breeze.

“Those aren’t— those can’t be. Are those… the pledge numbers?”

“I added three times, just in case I messed up. But that’s the real number. All our pledge sheets.”

I had to sit down. I flopped into a beach chair. My head was spinning. That number… how?! Our repairs would be covered. Our next book order. We’d be able to replace the inventory we’d lost. It would be like that falling shelf never happened, only it had. All this was true. Not just the bad parts, but Brad. The fun run. The town coming through for me, and even some summer folk, even total strangers. They’d really come through.

“I don’t believe this.”

“Believe it,” crowed Alice. “We can do the café thing you’ve been talking about. Start the book club back up again. Get our sign repainted.”

“Speech,” shouted someone.

I laughed, disbelieving. This had to be some kind of beautiful dream. But Alice was dragging me back to my feet, up to the stone steps that led to the pier. The last of the runners were still trickling in, but a hush had come over the crowd on the beach, everyone suddenly turning to me. I caught Brad’s eye and he started clapping, and a swell of applause nearly swept me away. It went on so long I almost looked behind me, to see if someone more impressive had snuck up from the pier.

“Thank you,” I said, when it died out at last. Somebody whooped, and I found myself smiling. “Honestly, I don’t know how to thank you. With the money we’ve raised today, I can pay my repair crew. I can reopen, so?—”

The roar was deafening this time, so loud I rocked back. All this for me, for my little bookshop?

“When are you opening?” came a shout from the back. It hit me, I hadn’t thought about that. I’d been so sure I’d go under, I had no plan.

Alice nudged me. “Say next week.”

“What?”

“Tell them we’re opening back up next week!”

I swallowed hard. Next week? That was too soon. We’d need time to clean up, to redecorate. To plan our big relaunch, now we could afford it.

“Two weeks,” I said. “The first of next month. I’m bringing back book club, and we’ll have coffee. It’ll be our grand relaunch, and you’re all invited.”

Brad led the cheer this time, and I basked in the glow. He’d won me this second chance, and I wouldn’t blow it. I’d build back Mom’s store better than ever.

CHAPTER 16

SAM

Mrs. Schneiderman came puffing in dead last. She ran up to the water stand and grabbed a whole bottle, and poured half over her head and half over Wiener’s. He barked, shook himself, and stood wagging his tail.

“I should get extra credit,” Mrs. Schneiderman said. “He spotted a squirrel around the halfway point, ran into the woods, and wouldn’t come back. I must’ve run double, trying to catch him.”

Wiener grinned up at me. I scratched his ears. “Bad Wiener.”

“Such a bad dog. But you two did good.” She grabbed another water and sipped it this time. “You should do it every year.”

Lana went pale. “Cross your fingers we won’t need to.”

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