“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, we don’t…like each other, for one. How are we going to coexist when we have to pretend we do?”
“Tolerating each other for a few months—let’s say six—is a small sacrifice.”
“Says you.”
“Hey, I’m tidy. I cook. And I don’t snore.”
“I will never be close enough to where you sleep to know that.”
Despite himself, he chuckled. “That’s not important.” Somehow they’d gotten off track. And it was making him imagine an entirely different kind of sparring. He forced himself to focus. “This is what’s important. When the partnership saves both our businesses and you get on your way to…wherever it is you’re planning on going, that’s the happy ending.” Then he added, “And we have a chance to finally end that ridiculous family feud. No more Montagues and Capulets or Montgomerys and Castorinis. Everybody wins.”
There. He’d laid it all on the line. Given her his best defense. All she had to do was say yes.
She swallowed her last sip of wine, then stood. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t possibly take part in this scheme.”
He stood with her. “Give me one reason why.”
“It’s…sneaky.”
She had him there. “I would do anything for my family,” he said, desperation taking over. “Including this. But I guess I was wrong to think you’d make the same sacrifice for yours.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, looking offended now. “I’d never make you endure marriage to me. That kind of…sacrifice would be far too cruel.”
His wasp-tongued frenemy made for the door, surprisingly walking in a straight line. She wasn’t drunk, then; only a little buzzed, like he was. He could still try to reason with her.
He rushed past her and got to the door first, scrambling for some way to keep her from walking through it.
He hated to press his agenda, but he was out of options. Down to fumes in the gas tank. “Your association fee is due.”
She stopped mid-step, tripping a little before she planted her feet and glared at him.
“Actually,” he said, “Bonjour! Breads didn’t pay last month’s, either.”
The Montgomerys owned the bakery space, but the Castorinis owned the strip of shops that contained it, so they owed a fee of several hundred dollars every month for grounds maintenance, parking-lot upkeep, water and sewage, outdoor lighting—all of that.
“What are you getting at?” Her tone was horrified. She looked at him like he was a reptile that had just crawled out of the sewer. Something despicable. Which he really couldn’t argue with right now.
“Tomorrow is the first of the month.”
“You wouldn’t dare evict us.” She paused, worrying her lip. “Would you?”
“Of course not,” he said, and she let out a breath. “But I would charge interest for every day you don’t make that payment. And you’re already a month behind. That could pile up fast.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “You know what, Leo Castorini?”
“What, Tessa Montgomery?” Whatever insult she was about to throw would cut him to the bone, but it wasn’t because he had a fragile ego. It was because he knew he’d lost.
She poked him in the chest, then swung her ax. “I hope someone strings you up by the balls and leaves you for vultures to feast on.”
She moved past him, threw open the door, and left.
“So is that a yes?” he asked and finished his wine.
Chapter Five
The next morning, Tessa went to work with a massive, hammering headache. Last night, the wine had been too good, and the company…well, it had been fine until Leo suggested they get married.
Leo Castorini had unique ideas—that was for sure.
He was an innovator, just as he’d been in high school. Like the time he’d used real bakeries for the senior class bake sale fundraiser, ran a social-media campaign, and ended up raising ten thousand dollars for Riley Children’s Hospital in Indianapolis.
But this idea was…outrageous.
On top of her throbbing head, she remembered the extra upkeep money she did not have. She’d believed him when he said he wouldn’t kick them out of the bakery. But charge interest? Of course he would, and he’d do it with a smile on his gorgeous, infuriating face. She resolved to call twenty-five more places to sell their bread as soon as this headache was gone.
Marry him. Ridiculous! There had to be a better way.
Suddenly the bell above the door tinkled. Her younger sister, Juliet, whose long red hair was pulled up in a ponytail, practically bounced as she burst excitedly in.
“I think Jax is going to pop the question,” she said excitedly, stretching out her arm and wiggling her bare fingers. “As soon as I’m done with work, I’m getting a test manicure so I can pick the best ring-ready color. Tessa, want to come?” Juliet didn’t seem to notice her startled expression. “Is that coffee?”
Juliet’s off-again, on-again relationship with Jax had taken one too many runs through the roller coaster, in Tessa’s opinion. Tessa didn’t get how she could be a tough, kick-butt marriage counselor yet put up with Jax. Case in point: What kind of boyfriend made you take your shoes off before you get into his 1970 Firebird, which he probably spent more time with than her?
“We had a little spat, but we talked that through, and things are amazing now.”
Was this what being a parent was like? Like endlessly banging your head against a wall? Also, two weeks of not talking and many shed tears on Juliet’s part did seem to merit a stronger word than spat.
Plus, her sister deserved the best. She was full of love and life, always sweeping them away to museums, local festivals, concerts—always up for anything. She’d somehow convinced Tessa to run a 5K for the library last year, something Tessa swore she’d never repeat. And enter a cake in the Blossom Glen cake-off for the mental health center (she won). Juliet never said no to an adventure…or to a marriage proposal, apparently, because she’d also been briefly engaged to her college sweetheart a few years ago, and that had ended in disaster a few days before the wedding.
“Aren’t you happy for me?” Juliet looked a little offended.
Tessa had learned to usually say yes to this question.
“Of course I am.” She went to hug her.
Juliet scanned Tessa’s face. “Are you going to lecture me?”