“I’ll text it to you,” Shelley promised.
“The Brigaders and I are excited to get back to having our luncheons at the Bistro,” Lenore said. “And remember, if you ever need help, we’re excellent waitresses.”
“Thanks, Lenore,” Abby said. “We’ll keep that in mind, but no free labor.”
“We can talk about that another time.” Lenore raised an eyebrow in Cait’s direction and said, “Right now I’d like to get to know our lovely Cait. Rumor has it a few of our island boys have already cast their hooks in your direction. Have any reeled you in yet?”
Cait’s smile faltered, her eyes darting nervously to Abby.
“That’s island gossip, Lenore,” Abby said, giving Cait a reassuring nod. “But can you blame them? I mean, look at my sister. She’s not only beautiful, but she’s also a talented artist. She painted a gorgeous mural in the Bistro. You’ll have to come see it.”
“Shelley told me it was stunning. I look forward to seeing it.” Lenore eyed Cait’s tattoos and said, “And my granddaughter Leni told me that you’re a tattooist. Maybe I should make an appointment. I’m thinking of—”
“I think my mother is having a late-life crisis,” Shelley said, pushing in front of Lenore. “Yesterday she tried to talk Brant into selling her a motorboat.” She took Lenore by the arm and said, “Abby, I’ll text you Faye’s number. Good luck, ladies.”
“Fingers and toes crossed!” Faye waved her crossed fingers.
“Thank you,” Abby and Cait said in unison as Faye disappeared into the crowd behind Shelley and Lenore.
“Are people really talking about me?” Cait asked nervously.
“I know I am,” Wells said as he walked between them and draped an arm around each of them. “Good luck today, ladies.”
“Thanks.” Cait slipped out of his reach.
“Thanks, Wells,” Abby said. “Good luck to you, too.”
He looked sharp in a dress shirt and slacks. “Word among our friends is that I’ve got pretty tough competition.”
“We’re hearing the same thing. Who knows, maybe we’ll both lose,” Abby said, but she was pretty sure that wouldn’t happen. While the other restaurants were good, and some were even considered great, she’d been told that there was nothing remarkable about the food or the dining experiences at any of them. And although she loved the romantic, bohemian experience of the Bistro, that didn’t mean the stoic judges did. Wells was a tough contender, and she wasn’t about to count her chickens before they hatched.
“That’s not going to happen,” Wells said, and then his face went serious, and he pulled Abby aside. “I hear you and Aiden got into a tiff before he left. You guys okay?”
Her stomach plummeted. “How did you hear that?”
“Not much gets by me.”
Fitz. She felt her cheeks burn. Had they been that loud when they were arguing? She lifted her chin and said, “I’m fine.”
“I really like the guy, but more importantly, you two seemed great together. Is he okay?” Wells asked.
Startled by the question, she thought about it and answered honestly. “I don’t know. I hope so.”
“Let me know if I can do anything to help,” Wells offered.
The mayor’s voice boomed through the speakers. “We’d like to invite the contestants up to the stage, please.”
Applause and cheers rang out as people began heading toward the stage, where Tara Osten, the mayor’s daughter and a local photographer, was taking pictures.
Wells said, “After you, ladies.”
When they were out of his earshot, Cait whispered, “What did he say to you?”
“He asked about Aiden.” She forced a smile as they ascended the steps, and Tara took their pictures.
“He’s just trying to make you nervous or something,” Cait said.
“I don’t think so. He’s not mean like that.”
They stood on the stage with the other six contestants as the mayor gave a speech about Silver Island and the competition. Abby looked out at the sea of new and familiar faces, feeling honored to be back among the community that had not only helped raise her but had also helped her family more than she’d ever known. She was thrilled that Cait was sharing in her journey to building a new life there and also starting her own. But even the support of the community and the excitement of the day couldn’t quell the ache of missing Aiden. If not for him, she and Cait wouldn’t be standing on that stage.
Had he stepped on her toes and spent too much money on her? Yes. Had he made a freaking huge mistake by not telling her he was the investor? Absolutely. But no matter how much she tried to believe he’d done those things for his own gain, she couldn’t. It didn’t add up. His face—the face she’d grown to love, the one she’d already imagined mapped with wrinkles and framed by gray hair—flashed in her mind, bringing with it a pang of longing. They’d been apart only a few days, and it was far too long. She thought of her mother missing her father so much she’d given up trying to push past the pain and had chosen to give up on life instead. As much as it broke her heart to know how badly her mother had hurt, her mother’s weakness and her mother’s letter gave her the courage to do what her heart wanted to do. To obliterate the fears of turning into her mother, the fear she’d carried for as long as she could remember, and to chase all of her dreams. Because Abby wasn’t broken, and she wasn’t about to give up on anything.
Not on this competition, not on herself, and especially not on Aiden.
Her mother had needed her father to survive. Abby didn’t need Aiden in that way. She knew who she was—Abigail de Messiéres, sister, friend, chef. But she wanted Aiden in her life, because being with him made everything that much better.
Cait nudged her, startling her out of her thoughts. Everyone was applauding and cheering, so Abby applauded too, wondering what she’d missed.
“We won!” Cait exclaimed.
“Wha . . . ? We won? We won!” She hugged Cait.
Wells leaned in and said, “I think you need to make a speech.”
“Oh, right!” Abby exclaimed, and grabbed Cait’s hand. “Come on, Cait!”
There was a rumble of laughter and shouts of congratulations as they shook the mayor’s hand and stepped up to the podium. Abby’s heart raced. She’d been so consumed by her and Aiden’s troubles, she hadn’t prepared a speech.
She looked at Cait, wide-eyed and smiling from ear to ear, and said, “Would you like to make the acceptance speech?”
Cait closed her mouth and shook her head, elation glittering in her eyes.
Abby leaned closer to the microphone and said, “Thank you so much.” The applause quieted. “This is a great honor for me and my sisters, Cait”—she motioned to Cait, who waved—“and Deirdra. Unfortunately, Deirdra couldn’t be here today. Deirdra and I grew up at the Bistro, watching our father cook, paint, and sit down with customers while they ate and watching our mother hostess, waitress, and mingle. Back then all I wanted was to be part of that world.” She found Shelley’s friendly face in the crowd and said, “It took a push from a special friend for me to finally leave this beloved island and find my way through culinary school and into the restaurants of New York City. What I didn’t know while I was gone was that the people here, the community in which I’d grown up and loved, helped to keep the Bistro afloat. My sisters and I couldn’t possibly thank everyone who had a hand in that, but you know who you are, and we will be forever grateful for all that you have done.” She looked at Cait and said, “Now it’s our turn to give back to the community.”