Page 6 of A Touch of Spring Magic

Shame coated her throat. She’d been such a coward.

The disadvantages of moving home.

“Brent,” she said, hoping her smile looked genuine when she really wished she was home and under the covers so she could start this whole day over tomorrow. “I didn’t know you were visiting.”

“Shocking,” Rustin deadpanned. “TheBelmont Bannerran an article.”

Was she supposed to laugh? Neither Rustin’s nor Brent’s expressions gave her a clue.

“Well…” She struggled for the proper thing to say when she was considered the gregarious and socially smooth Maye daughter. “I don’t want to hold you up. Great catching up. Enjoy your visit.”

Please let it be a visit. Please.

“I’m just going to grab a chai before heading to work.”

Lie, but not really a lie if she walked around the garden and tried to cobble together a place to start now that the greenhouses were fixed and upgraded. Did that count as a lie? Should she add it to her confession list this week?

She turned back to the door, only to realize it was locked and dark inside. A beautifully stenciled sign listed the café’s hours, including that it was closed on Monday.

Jessica squeezed her eyes shut and barely resisted banging her head against the glass.

It was barely past eight, and she so needed a redo. Rustin’s drawled ‘it’s Monday’ now made sense. The two men’s scrutiny felt like a pinch.

Get it together. Get it together. Get it together. You are Jessica Maye.

As if that meant something. She was acting off. She could feel it but felt helpless to pull herself out of her swan dive.

“If you’re that desperate for a hit, Jessica, I can give you a fix,” Rustin said like he was the neighborhood drug dealer one of his uncles had been. “Got an espresso machine at the Wild Side. Storm and I were just heading over to repair some of the deck railing that got banged up in the storm two nights ago.”

Rustin offering to make her a latte? From anyone else it would have sounded like a genuine offer—to help his girlfriend’s sister—but to Jessica it sounded like a dare.

“She mentioned chai. That sounds more like Starbucks drive-through to me,” Storm said.

Her shoulders jerked back like she was about to make a presentation. “I support local businesses,” she said, defending her coffee choices.

“Clearly.” Storm smiled. “That’s why you’re breaking down the door on the one day the last remaining coffee shop downtown is closed.”

Though it had been twelve years, apparently Storm wasn’t in a forgiving mood. Since she couldn’t catch a break, she decided retreat was the best decision.

“Thank you kindly, Rustin.” She smiled the words and employed the manners that would have made Grandma Millie compliment her and offer her a cookie after church when she’d been a child. “I’m sure your lattes at the Wild Side are truly delicious, but I think I’m already risking running late…”

She spoke the lie and crossed her fingers in the pocket of her blazer and recited an internal apology.

“So I’ll bid you both a good day.”

She turned around and did her best to not run to her car. She waved her fingers above her head and cringed. Sheesh, she’d done that in high school. If that was what was going to happen if she kept running into awkward moments stemming from high school, her dream of a local nursery would be over before it started. She needed to get a grip and find her poise.

Starting today.

“Jessica.” Rustin’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “Chloe said you have theSouthern Love Spellsbook. I need it again.”

A thump flooped her heart from her throat to what felt like her abdomen. Not the book. But did that mean Chloe had brought it over and just hadn’t told her?

“What do you want with that old thing, Rustin? Since Wild Side opened in December you’ve been praised and your restaurant’s been written up for your innovative fusion dishes.”

“Chloe wants to do some research for one of her classes, but also she’s looking over the early Millie’s Diner menu she found at Miss Millie’s,” he said, cooly, clearly not impressed by her praise. “And Rebekah thinks the book has some social media promotional potential. Chloe also had an art idea for the restaurant and a gift for Miss Millie.”

“We don’t know it’s Miss Millie’s,” she said tightly, picturing the reusable shopping bag and book she’d dropped off at the thrift shop. “She never claimed it, and Clo asked.”

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