Page 12 of Promise Me

“Why not?”

“Because the two of you have a lot of growing up to do.”

“But I want this place. Badly. It’s perfect for me,” I plead as she heads for the door.

“Don’t you want to sell to someone you know will take care of it?” Hudson’s comment makes her pause, and she turns to face us.

“You’re right. I do. If you two can get along, maybe even become friends, I’ll sell to one of you.”

I guffaw, and Hudson shakes his head.

“Once you become friends, you two will pick.”

“Pick as in …”

“It would bring me much joy to sell to one of you because your parents are some of the loveliest people I know, but you two need to stop acting like children and show me how much you want it.”

“By making us do the one thing you know we don’t want,” Hudson says.

“Become friends,” I add.

“Look at that—you both understand the assignment. You have two months, or I sell to someone else. I’m in no hurry.”

With that, she walks out the door.

I follow right behind her.

“Should we make a plan?” Hudson calls out.

“Does this plan include you agreeing with me that I should buy this place?”

“No.”

“Then no. Lock the door behind you.”

The bakery closes at 4:00 p.m. daily, so Brooke is packing up to leave when I return. I hug her goodbye and tell her I’ll see her when she gets back.

I lock all the doors in the front and flip the sign to show that we are closed, and then I step into the kitchen. It’s the one place I feel closest to my mom. I wish that she were here to give me advice.

Then again, if she were here, I wouldn’t be working in the bakery. I would be doing my own thing.

In hopes of channeling her parental vibes right now, I pull out all the ingredients to make lemon bars. I tell myself it’sbecause of the extra supply we got today, but really, I’ve let Hudson’s comment get to me more than I care to admit.

I glide around the kitchen, a place I know better than my own bedroom, and have just put the first batch in the oven when my phone, which is in my purse across the room, rings. I move for it, not seeing the box on the floor behind me. The counter edge comes into view all too quickly, and then everything else goes black.

CHAPTER FOUR

HUDSON

How in the hell am I going to fix this?

No, that’s not the question I need to ask myself. The question I need to ask is how I’m going to convince Sadie I’m the one who should buy that space—me, not her.

I cannot be stuck right here for the rest of my life.

I pass through the bar, heading into the back and out the employee entrance. I turn left and open another door. This one reveals the staircase that leads to my apartment and to the one above Mrs. Whittaker's store, which is currently vacant.

I couldn’t care less about who ends up moving in next door. I just want the space below.

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