the two clergymen drifted back as they continued their banter.
Katherine gave them a few minutes’ head start, then meandered back toward the entrance. Much as she’d like to linger in this peaceful spot, she had a stop to make before her lunch with Simon.
It wasn’t one she relished, but now that she’d settled on a course of action, it was only fair to share her decision with the man who had a personal stake in the outcome.
26
As Katherine came through the door of The Perfect Blend, the cranberry scone Zach had pilfered from the display case for breakfast turned to a rock in his stomach.
She’d come to a decision. He could see it in her eyes.
The movie was a go.
Meaning her days in Hope Harbor were coming to an end.
“Watch the foam.”
At Frank’s warning, he jerked his attention back to the cappuccino he was finishing.
His signature swirl looked more like a deformed question mark than an artistic flourish.
As Katherine walked toward him, he added more foam to cover up his mistake and handed the drink to the waiting customer.
After giving the bustling shop a scan, she pulled out the dark sunglasses she’d worn on her first visit and slipped them on.
He managed to call up a smile. “Good morning. You look like a skinny vanilla latte woman.”
Her lips bowed up. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Nope. Only the special ones. You want a small—or are you going to splurge and go medium today?”
“Small works.”
“I’ll have it ready in three minutes. If you want to find a seat, I’ll even deliver it.”
“Could you join me for a few minutes?” Twin furrows dented her brow as she gave the interior another survey. “Or is it too busy? I know coffee shops can be crazy in the morning. I should have thought of that.”
“The rush hour—or what constitutes rush hour in Hope Harbor—is slowing. Frank can cover for me while we chat. Go ahead and claim a table.”
She headed for the booth for two tucked into the back corner, where they’d sat the day he’d brought her here to sample Eleanor Cooper’s fudge cake after their impromptu taco lunch on the wharf.
The one that offered the most privacy.
Confirming his conclusion she had news to share.
As he prepared her drink, gave Frank reign over the counter, and walked over to join her, he tried to psyche himself up for the conversation to come.
There was no question that taking the role was the right decision for her. After all the years she’d worked to reach this pinnacle, she owed it to herself to plant a flag on the summit—whatever she decided to do afterward. Coming this close to realizing her dream, only to walk away when it was within her grasp, would be a decision she’d regret the rest of her life.
That’s why he’d sucked it up and played devil’s advocate on the beach last night. And it was why he’d continue to support her choice, despite the risk.
The significant risk.
Katherine might think she was burned out on the Hollywood lifestyle and lack of privacy, but if the movie was a success and other similar offers began to pour in, she could succumb to the allure of fame and forget all about her idyllic time here making blackberry truffles, painting at Hope House—and walking on the beach with the local barista.
Being a star had to be a power trip of the first order, one that could mess with a person’s head—and priorities.
But if the two of them were meant to be, it would happen.
He had to keep believing that.
After setting her latte in front of her, he slid onto the bench seat on the other side of the small table. Rather than wait for her to lead up to the news, he plunged in. “You decided to take the movie role.”
She removed her glasses, studying him as she set them on the table. “How did you know?”
“Call it intuition.” He hitched up one side of his mouth. “Am I right?”
“Yes. You’re the first person I’ve told.”
“Simon doesn’t know yet?”
“No. I’m meeting him for lunch at the Myrtle.”
“He’ll be happy.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you happy?”
She sipped her latte, the creases reappearing on her forehead. “Relieved is more like it. I’m glad the decision is behind me.”
“What was the tipping point?”
He listened as she told him about her conversation with Reverend Baker in the St. Francis garden.
“It wasn’t as if he said anything I hadn’t already thought about—or anything you and I hadn’t discussed. But he did