Page 115 of How to Fall for the Secret Billionaire
We step into the café, and it’s the perfect kind of busy—half-full, mellow hum of conversation, the occasional clatter of cutlery, and cool evening light pouring in through the tall windows.
We find a corner table near the open windows, the breeze gentle and crisp. As soon as we sit down, Thea leans back in her chair and sighs.
“Oh my gosh,” she says, eyes closed dramatically. “I forgot what actual fresh air feels like. And I cannot wait to eat something that isn’t a snack or soda.”
Hazel snorts. “Wow, the tech goblin speaks.”
Thea glares at her. “Some of us have deadlines.”
“Some of us also need fiber,” Hazel shoots back, grinning.
I laugh and flag down the waitress—a girl in a denim apron with a braid down her back. She gives us a bright smile and hands out menus.
We order quickly: I go for a grilled chicken sandwich with rosemary fries and a hibiscus iced tea; Hazel gets the spicy shrimp tacos and sweet potato mash; Thea takes the same as mine.
The waitress nods, scribbles, and disappears with a promise: “Be out in fifteen.”
Hazel stretches, propping her chin on her hand. “Okay. Let’s catch up. No talk about work, no talk about the inn, no adulting allowed. Deal?”
I smile, leaning back. “Deal. I’ll go first.”
They both look at me expectantly, and I grin. “So… I found this photo album in the basement.”
Their eyes widen in sync.
“What photo album?” Hazel demands.
“A family album. There’s Dad as a teenager. Mom, too. And Aunt Edie. The memories in the album will make you cry.”
“You have to show it to us,” Thea says at the same time. “Why have we never seen it?”
Hazel scoffs. “Me, I’m just surprised you saw proof that Aunt Edie was a teenager. I thought she was just born as an adult.”
I shrug, laughing. “I know! I think Mom and Aunt Edie just… kind of forgot about it. I haven’t even told them yet. I plan to have the pictures cleaned up and framed. I thought we could hang some of them up in the reception.”
Hazel places a hand over her heart. “That is such a wonderful idea.”
“It’s going to be gorgeous,” Thea adds, her eyes a little dreamy. “I love old photos. They make time feel bendable.”
Hazel perks up. “Okay, my turn. I started that mural downtown—you know the one the art council approved?”
I nod. “How’s it going?”
“Slow,” she says with a dramatic sigh. “But it’s coming together. I think it might actually look… not terrible.”
Thea snorts. “Why do you never admit you’re a great artist? We all know that mural will be stunning!”
“Thank you,” Hazel says, mock-bowing. “There’s always room for improvement.”
Laughing, I turn to Thea, who shrugs. “I’ve got nothing. I just work. But honestly… I’m glad I’m here. This is nice.”
A softness settles in my chest. “Yeah. It is.”
Hazel lights up suddenly. “Wait! Let’s video call Juniper.”
Thea’s face breaks into a grin. “Yes. Do it.”
Hazel pulls out her phone. “Brace yourselves. If she doesn’t pick up, I’m leaving a dramatic voicemail.”
