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‘Good point. Let’s make it Thor, the Byron Bay version, because … damn.’

‘I’ll get the glasses.’

‘And find cheese. Something sharp. And give me a second to text Alex so he doesn’t think I’ve driven into a ditch on the way home.’

Cheese and wine glasses. If only every chore she needed to do in the limited time she had left would be so easy. She set a tray of nibbles on the honeymoon table in the front window and waited for Graeme to finish his call. The closed sign was squarely set mid-door, the oven was cooling, tomorrow’s baking prep was ahead of schedule.

The day was done. Sort of.

‘So spill, honey.’

Vera cut a wedge of brie and laid it on a cracker, pressed dried cranberries into the soft cheese. ‘Try this.’

‘Procrastination hors d’oeuvres? Don’t mind if I do.’ Graeme tossed the cracker into his mouth, chewed, then took a reverent sip of his rosé. ‘Delicious. We should start a YouTube channel for the ultimate cheese and wine pairings.’

She clinked her glass to his. ‘A business idea for another day. But actually, business is what I wanted to speak to you about.’

‘Okay.’

‘Marigold tells me everyone in town knows about my court case. Do you?’

Graeme reached over and took her hand. ‘A little gossip isn’t the same as knowing. Why don’t you tell me properly? You’ll get no judgement from me, Vera.’

She rubbed her face. ‘Thank you. I mean that. It is true, I’ve had charges laid against me. I’d hoped the preliminary hearing would be enough to get them thrown out, but I was wrong. Unless a miracle happens and the courthouse in Queanbeyan is struck by a meteorite, I’ll be going to trial soon.’

‘What are the chances of winning?’

‘According to my lawyer? A hundred and twenty per cent, but she’s an operator, and she’s probably done some ballsy marketing course that says optimistic clients pay their legal fees faster.’

‘And if you lose at trial?’

‘If I lose … best case scenario is community service. Worst case? Five years behind bars.’

‘Hell, Vera. What exactly did you do?’

‘I was worried my aunt was being neglected, so I hid a camera in the bookcase of her room at her aged care facility.’

Graeme’s eyebrows nearly rose out of sight over his bald head. ‘That … does sound kind of illegal.’

She choked on a mouthful of brie. ‘Well, yes, it was impulsive and I didn’t think it through. But as to the legality or not, it depends. I put the camera in because I wanted to know how often Jill was being checked in on. The Acacia View, of course, saw it as a gross invasion of the privacy of their nursing staff. I can see their point … but I can also seemypoint.’

‘I’m sorry, Vera. You must have been to hell and back.’

‘Yeah,’ she sighed. ‘It sure feels that way. So, worst case scenario—I’ve had a plan. It’s about as ready as a half-baked loaf, but here goes. How would you like to become a partner in The Billy Button Café?’

Graeme sat back in his chair. ‘An owner?’

‘Yep. When we’re both working, we split the profits fifty-fifty. If I’m not here, the profits are all yours. I can help with menus, recipes from prison, I guess. I could probably still do the books if they let me take my laptop.’

‘Wow. That’s a lot to take in. It’s also super crazy considering you’re the one with the bank loan for the café fit-out. Loan repayments first, then the remaining profit is split between us based on hours worked.IfI say yes.’

‘Oh, Graeme, does that mean you’ll think about it? These few months since the café opened … my cooking has only been part of the reason we’ve been turning such a handsome profit. It’s you, too. Your coffee, sure. But you’re the drawcard. You get people. You’re warm. People come here to get a little lift in their day and you give them that.’

‘Aw, shucks.’

She grinned. ‘Don’t pull that humble routine with me, Graeme Sharpe.’

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘I know. People love me. It’s a gift.’