looks amazing, but what the hell just happened? My eyes fly to Timothy and Everly. “What’s going on?”
“I swear, I don’t know what’s going on,” Everly says. “All I know is that . . .”
Timothy’s hand lands on hers, and he shakes his head. “Let this play out.”
“Let what play out?” I ask. “What’s going on?”
“She’s my best friend!” Everly says to her husband. “You can’t expect me not to tell her what I know.”
“I’m asking you as your husband not to.”
“That’s not fair!” Everly says, her voice rising.
“You weren’t supposed to know anything about this,” Timothy says.
“Why are you helping Knox?” she barks, louder than she perhaps intended. “Mae is our friend!”
“He asked, and I think . . .”
I look around the shop, customers starting to notice their fight—staring, conversations ceasing. It’s not good for business, and it’s not good for their relationship. Whatever’s going on, I don’t want them fighting over anything that has to do with me. “Forget I asked,” I say, motioning with my hands for them to lower their voices.
“Mae,” Everly says, her hand landing on mine.
“It’s okay,” I say. “Whatever it is, I know it’s not worth you guys fighting about.” They glance at each other. I know their fight isn’t over, but I’m doing my part to defuse it. “Just tell me if it’s bad or not.”
Everly looks at Timothy. “I’m not privy to whatever the plan is.”
“There’s a plan?” I ask.
Timothy’s little grin tells me there is. “It’s good, Mae,” he says. “I would never do anything that I thought would hurt you. Not even for Knox Merrick.”
*
Haven’s Point has changed a lot over the years. The changes used to be more noticeable in between my visits as a child—a new restaurant, boutique, dry cleaners—but one thing remained the same—Gigi. No matter where I was in the world, I knew she was here, waiting for me to come back.
She knows me better than I know myself. I’m her only grandchild, so we are extra close, which is why I’m surprised as hell when I pull up in front of her house and see Knox occupying the seat next to her on the front porch swing, looking like some sort of ad for quaint, small town living. The picture is completed by the fresh squeezed glass of lemonade they each are holding.
I hop out of my car, slamming the door for good measure. It’s one thing to involve Timothy in his scheme, it’s quite another to involve Gigi. I reach the porch steps, and Knox leans his arm across the back of the swing. That used to be my spot, on that swing, next to him, his arm around my shoulder.
“You following me, Mae?” he asks, trying to hide his smile.
“Um, my grandmother,” I say, pointing to Gigi.
“Thank you, Ms. Imogen,” he says, getting to his feet and grabbing a bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Remember what I said,” she says. “Veto power.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says.
“So Gigi is coming on our date tomorrow?” I ask.
“Date?” he says with a smirk.
“You’re driving me crazy!” I say.
“Tomorrow, noon,” he says, giving me a little wink, then he nods at Gigi and starts toward the steps.
“Hold on a minute,” I say, following him.
“I’m kind of on a deadline here,” he teases.
“You have to tell me what’s going on.”
He holds the bag up in the air, looking behind me. I turn around, seeing a van parked on the street that I hadn’t noticed before. A young, scruffy looking guy with a beard hops out, walking over to where we’re standing. Knox hands him the bag. “Here’s the stuff.”
I’m totally in the dark at this point, having no idea what’s going on, and I get the feeling that Knox likes having me off balance. “Who are you?” I ask the bearded guy.
“Do you mean, like, what’s my name, or who I am on an existential level?” he asks.
Oh boy, this dude has to be from California. “Are you kidding me?” I ask, throwing a look to Knox.
“Ben is helping me with something,” Knox says, motioning for him to go.
“Nice to meet you, Mae,” he says, taking the bag and walking back toward the van.
“How do you know my name?” I call out. When he doesn’t answer, I turn to Knox. “How does he know who I am?”
“Me.”
“This cryptic shit is really getting old,” I say, my hands flying around in the air.
Knox takes my hands, pulling me a little closer to him. How his touch can still be so