Page 3 of Stuck with Doctor Grump

I flopped onto the stool near the register and bit into a scone like it had personally wronged me. “Let’s just survive the council meeting, then we can start plotting my rebranding campaign.”

Hazel winked. “I hearHot Mess to Business Successis trending.”

…

The council chamber always smelled like lemon polish and overambition.

I took my usual seat near the front with Hazel beside me and tried not to fidget. Around us, Cedar Springs’ local business owners were buzzing with pre-announcement chatter. The annual Business of the Year gala was a big deal, and this year, rumor had it there’d be some “new energy” injected into the planning.

Translation: someone probably suggested karaoke.

From the podium, Eleanor James tapped her gavel gently, her pearl earrings catching the light as she smiled over the room. “Welcome, everyone. I won’t keep you long. I know you all have shops to open, clients to see, and bouquets to deliver—” her eyes landed on me “—and perhaps apologies to make.”

The room chuckled.

I smiled politely and took a careful sip of my tea.

“As you know,” Eleanor continued, “we’re preparing for this year’s Business of the Year gala, a night that celebrates everything our little town does so well. And I’m thrilled to announce this year’s event will be co-hosted by two individuals who embody Cedar Springs’ charm, creativity, and—let’s just say—opposing styles.”

My stomach did a slow, uneasy roll.

“Ruby Shea,” she said with a proud nod in my direction, “and Dr. Damien Cole.”

I choked mid-sip.

Hazel smacked my back as I coughed uncontrollably, tea dribbling down my chin like a slow-motion horror show. I looked up, eyes watering, to find every head turned toward me—and one particular jawline clenched so tight I could practically hear it grind.

Damien Cole sat across the room, his back ramrod straight, one brow arched ever so slightly. If murder could be committed with a glance, I’d be a chalk outline on the council carpet.

Eleanor, ever unbothered, clasped her hands like she’d just orchestrated the town’s next great love story. “I thought it fitting. Dr. Cole, with his experience and organization, and Ruby, with her creativity and passion, will create an event to remember.”

He didn’t speak.

I, unfortunately, did.

“There must be a mistake,” I said, still coughing. “Or a... miscommunication. Or a cosmic joke gone too far.”

“I assure you, dear,” Eleanor replied sweetly, “the only joke here is how long it’s taken for this partnership to happen.”

The room tittered again. I side-eyed Hazel, who looked like she was fighting a smile.

Damien stood slowly, eyes never leaving mine as he made his way to the podium. He adjusted the mic with practiced ease and spoke in that clipped, smooth tone that made you feel like you’d just been handed a prescription and a deadline.

“I’m happy to serve Cedar Springs,” he said, voice calm. “Despite unexpected…collaborations.”

Then he turned, walked back to his seat, and paused beside me just long enough to mutter under his breath—

“Try not to spill anything at the podium.”

My mouth dropped open.

“Oh, don’t worry,” I whispered back, sugary sweet. “Next time, I’ll aim lower.”

His smirk was faint. Infuriating. And maybe—just maybe—intrigued.

He walked away, leaving a storm of questions swirling in my chest.

And one very uncomfortable realization:

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