Page 114 of How to Fall for the Secret Billionaire
I blink. “You did?”
She nods, turning back to the pot of jam. “A mother always knows.”
Then she peeks at me over her shoulder, eyes twinkling. “And besides, the way you two look at each other? I’d have to be blind not to notice.”
MARGOT
Igrip the steering wheel with one hand and glance over at Thea, who’s slouched in the passenger seat like I just dragged her to a dentist appointment.
“You kidnapped me,” she mutters.
I smirk. “You got in the car willingly.”
“I was under emotional duress.”
“No, you weren’t,” I laugh.
She groans and tilts her head back dramatically. “I have work to finish.”
“You’ll survive a two-hour break.” I keep my tone light, but I mean it. “Besides, when was the last time we had lunch together—just us?”
She doesn’t answer. I glance at her again. That’s answer enough.
Exactly.
Ever since I found those photo albums in the basement, something’s been tugging at me. Those pictures of Aunt Edie,my mom, my dad, all of them—so happy, so present. They did everything together. Sunday picnics. Random road trips. Silly traditions. And somewhere between growing up and growing busy, I let that kind of ease slip through my fingers. I want it back.
And maybe—I don’t know—maybe I want to feel like a sister again, not just the emergency contact on Key & Kettle’s form.
“You know,” I say as I turn into the parking lot, “it shouldn’t take a crisis for us to make time for each other.”
Thea looks at me like I’ve just told her we’re joining a cult. “Wow. That’s dark.”
“But true.”
She doesn’t argue.
Hazel is already outside when we pull up to the café, sitting under the striped awning like she owns the place.
As I park, she gets up and walks toward us, sunglasses pushed into her curls, hands tucked into the pockets of her paint-splattered skirt.
When Thea and I step out of the car, Hazel raises an eyebrow at me. “I can’t believe this hangout is your idea, Margot. Aren’t you afraid the inn will fall apart now that you’re not there?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “It won’t fall apart. It can handle itself.”
“That’s what we’ve all been trying to tell you.” She throws her arms around me, warm and dramatic, and I don’t realize how much I needed a sister hug until I’m in it.
Even Thea’s sour expression is starting to soften.
Hazel pulls back just enough to loop one arm through mine and the other through Thea’s. “The inn will take care of itself, Margot. It’s not as serious as you make it. Let loose and live a little. Come on.”
She tugs us toward the café doors. “This is my treat.”
Thea rolls her eyes. “You say that every time, and then your card declines.”
Hazel gasps. “That was one time!”
We’re still laughing as we push the door open and step into the café—just three sisters, no roles, no responsibilities. Just us.
