Page 30 of Battle of the Exes

Beau

Istep into Mae’s noting several boxes of pastries stacked neatly in the corner. I hope she gets the crowd she’s preparing for.

“Black coffee and an English muffin, please.” I’m starved.

“Coming right up, young man.”

Young. I suppose everything’s relative. Mae must be pushing the high side of eighty. When she returns with my order, she doesn’t hold back, a side effect of her advanced age.

“When are you gonna tell her?”

I play dumb. “Tell who what?”

“I’m not completely senile yet, Beau Carter.”

“The thought never crossed my mind.”

“When are you going to tell Ivy you’re still in love with her?”

My mouth is open to debate her, say how absurd the notion is. But it’s no use. I’ve been holding my feelings so close to the vest for all these years, the impulse to share it with another human being is suddenly overpowering. And yet, I hold my tongue.

She frowns. “Life’s short. It’d be a shame not to speak your heart before it’s too late.”

“Ivy hates me.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

What she’s basing that on is anyone’s guess.

As if reading my mind, Mae adds, “I’ve lived a long time. I read people. That girl’s not over you. Why do you think she gets so riled up when you’re around?”

I laugh.Ipride myself on reading people. Actually, it’s something I’m known for. “You’re proving my point.”

“Not at all. There’s a fine line between love and hate. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t get so worked up.”

I sip my coffee. Perfect, as always. “She says I broke her heart.”

“Did you?”

“Let’s just say it was mutual.”

“Tell her.”

“No chance. And same goes for you, Mae.” I try to sound stern but it doesn’t work when speaking to a nosy octogenarian.

I down the remnants of my coffee and leave a generous tip. “Gotta get to the rec center. See you later.”

I’m bagging what’s left of my muffinwhen a look crosses Mae’s face. “You bringing in all the writers and big city publishing folks is only to help save the bookshop.”

“Exactly.”

Mae grins, pointing a bony finger my way. “I got you all figured out, Beau Carter.”

I don’t argue. As they say, silence is acquiescence. But that’s one secret I’m not divulging.

When Rue called for help, I suspected she’d call her big sister too, get her to come out to lend a hand. The moment Ivy flew across Jasper’s desk, I knew I’d gambled right. It took calling in favors and dealing with messy scheduling changes but I orchestrated one more shot at a second chance.

I have one foot out the door when Mae says, “Good luck, son.”

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