Page 18 of Tough Nut to Crack

It's why the town's businesses have certain charters that have to be adhered to. Lindell has a no-compete clause, which keeps people from worrying about others coming in and taking business away. Sage will never have to worry that someone else will move to town and open another bookstore because it isn't allowed.

There will only ever be one veterinarian office, one law office, one café, one pizza place, and the town can even dictate what items are served in the eateries. Adalynn has a bakery in town, so Ruth at the diner can't sell cupcakes.

This is the issue with my inability to open my own restaurant because it would clash with what Ruth is doing, and that isn't allowed. Themindset is that people in town invest in their businesses without worrying about someone coming in and underselling them and forcing them to close. Prices for land and such here are lower than in the city and that appeals to folks wanting to make money. Unfortunately, that appeal isn't limited to those from the city.

I pull in a ragged breath, knowing I can talk to Sage about anything.

"Maybe everyone in town isn't hiring me because I'm a horrible cook," I mutter, looking down at a book that's been widely requested because it has gone viral on a social media app recently.

I read it weeks ago and wasn't really impressed, but having an opinion about a book is selective I guess.

"Stop," Sage snaps, drawing my eyes up to her. "Don't talk about my best friend like that."

I give her a weak smile. She's always going to come to my defense, even when it's a self-deprecating moment.

"You're a fabulous cook, and your time to shine is coming. I promise."

"You know," I say, pointing at her and feeling a little better. "This town needs a fortune teller. Then I'd know exactly what my future holds."

Sage tilts her head, shaking it back and forth as if I've lost my mind. "The Sisters of Liberty would never allow it. I have no doubt they'd call it witchcraft or Satanic and put an end to it before someone could even hang the sign on the front door."

"True," I quickly agree.

"You could call one of those expensive phone numbers, though," Sage counters. "If you want to waste money, then that may be the way to go."

I blow out a huff of air, but before I can pull more books out of the shipping box, my phone rings.

I'm hit with more emotions than I could possibly deal with when I see the contact lighting up my screen.

Shove those chicken and dumplings up your (peach emoji).

"Who is that?" Sage asks when I turn the phone around so she can see.

"Mac," I mutter as I send the call to voicemail.

There's no reason he should be calling me.

What happened, happened and there's no going back. If the man wanted to apologize for even opening that sexy and talented mouth of his and telling me to walk back to my vehicle, he could've done it that same night, or even better, never said such a hateful thing to begin with.

"Playing hard to get?" Sage asks.

"Not playing games at all," I assure her.

Chapter 8

Mac

It wouldn't matter if we weren't having an unusually warm late December day. Insulation makes me itch like crazy at any temperature. It might possibly be the one thing about this type of job that I despise, but it's one of those necessary evils.

Climbing down from the ladder, I take a look around. We're in the process of renovating an old barn and turning it into a nice little party barn for a local couple. Since I'm waiting on concrete to dry on a different job, I have my entire crew here today, making this job go a little faster than we had quoted, and that's always a plus. Getting the job done timely is great, but getting it done before the quoted schedule is amazing. It opens the books for other jobs, and I'm all about making a little more money.

I walk past two of the guys that I've hired for part-time work. Colin is doing a great job, and it isn't that Zac isn't doing a good job, he's just not doing it safely.

"Zac," I snap, my annoyance coming out in my tone. "See Ethan for today's pay."

"What?" the college student asks, his hands still buried deep in the insulation.

"Your fucking mask, man. He's told you half a dozen times."

---