Page 179 of Eight Years Gone

Grace sighed. “Things are what they are. We’re all grown up enough to deal with it. We’re not excluding anyone, especially on a holiday. Your mom can bring her boyfriend.”

“No. He’s a tool.”

Grace’s frown returned. “Is he unkind to you? To your mother?”

Colton shook his head. “It’s nothing like that. He’s this stuffy business guy with no sense of humor. He lives down in Philly. I can’t figure out what she sees in him.”

Grace put the games back in the cabinet, then looked at him. “When you tell your mother about your A, I hope you’ll invite them.”

Colton sent her a pained look.

“Or don’t,” Jagger chimed in. “It’s your Thanksgiving too. But you only get one mom, and from what I can tell, she’s been pretty damn good to you.”

Colton narrowed his eyes. “You’re an expert in that psychological operations stuff, aren’t you? Where they teach you to brainwash people and bend them to your will and whatnot?”

He’d become an expert in any and all operational tactics that got the government the information they needed. But he smiled slyly. “I’m unable to confirm or deny your questions.”

Grace laughed as Colton grinned.

Jagger wrapped his arm around Grace. “Let’s get to that Thanksgiving list before we make dinner. I’ll use my mind tricks to get a chocolate silk pie added to the menu.” He kissed her temple as they walked away.

Forty-Six

Grace moved from the processing room to the front of the store, where Amanda and Colton held down the fort after sending Jen home twenty minutes ago. School had finished for the day, and the holiday break had officially begun for the kids in Preston Valley.

For most of the day, Grace had had her hands full as she and Aunt Maggie created an assembly line of sorts to get a solid start on the centerpieces and arrangements that needed to be made. “Did we get any final orders?”

“A couple more,” Amanda said, handing over the paperwork, looking professional and pretty in stylish jeans and a sweater.

Grace glanced at the sheet. “The two-candle centerpiece is certainly the winner. I’ll have to keep that in mind for next year.”

Amanda nodded. “It’s definitely popular. I think it beat the other options by seventy percent.”

Grace raised her brow. She hadn’t had a chance to sit down and run all the numbers. Mostly, she was in survival mode. “Huh.”

Amanda glanced at the clock. “We’re not taking any more orders at this point, right?”

Grace shook her head. “Customers are welcome to the create-your-own section right out here and the arrangements we have in the fridge, but our inventory is tight.”

“And delivery starts at two thirty tomorrow?” Colton confirmed as he hung up the phone, looking handsome in dark wash jeans and a blue plaid button-down that covered his white T-shirt. “We’ve had a couple of people asking.”

“We’ll deliver in three waves. At nine, noon, and two thirty. Anyone who ordered vase arrangements and the floral cornucopias will see their delivery at nine. There will be several two-candle centerpieces going out then, too, but please don’t mention that. I’d rather people expect those at the noon and two-thirty deliveries and be surprised if they show up early.”

“Under-promise and over-deliver,” Amanda piped up.

Grace beamed, thrilled that Amanda seemed to have a head for business. “Exactly.”

Colton lifted the pink sheets where he’d taken messages. “I’ll call these people back to let them…”

Grace and Amanda looked to Simplicity’s picture window as Colton trailed off, staring outside.

Two men, whom she pegged to be in their early to midtwenties, stood on the sidewalk, waving to Colton.

Grace frowned. “You know them?”

Colton nodded, setting the pad of paper back on the counter. “Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

Grace looked at Amanda. “Do you know them?”

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