Chapter 3 #3
“It wasn’t locked.” Which was a good thing, because otherwise he’d have had to wait until Seb returned from his vacation so he could make him a copy.
“And wait a minute.” Declan’s brain, finally, started firing on all synapses.
He moved to the door, shut it, and whirled on Lily, who backed up against the display case.
“Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Florida? Far away from here?”
She cocked her head at him. “Aw, are you keeping track of me now, Decky?”
He scowled. She knew he hated to be called that. “It’s a small island. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.”
She tapped her chin. “And yet, I know nothing about where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.”
He might have opened his mouth to tell her, but she held up her hand. “Nope. Don’t wanna know. Just leave.” She pointed to the door, then headed toward the swinging kitchen door.
“I…wait.”
His voice stopped her at the door.
“Listen.” She held the door open. “I don’t want to hear about your big life . Because guess what? I. Don’t. Care. The only thing I care about is getting my fudge shop back up and running, which means getting back to cleaning and organizing it. So bye, Slick.”
Then she banged through the door before he could say another word.
Wait—what? Her fudge shop?
Mom had said the Harts weren’t planning to reopen their fudge shop because of Nancy’s arthritis. That their lease had expired last week.
But now, Lily was here.
Uh-oh.
Before he could follow her and get some answers, the fudge shop’s front door opened, and Uncle Patrick walked in with a folder of papers.
“Oh, good, you were able to get inside. I just brought you the paperwork. You forgot it at the meeting.” Patrick set the folder on the counter beside the register, then looked around.
“A bit musty, a lot dirty, but I think you can whip it into shape.” His eyes gleamed and he absently rubbed his thumb along the edge of the antique watch Great-Grandpa Casey Kelley had left to him.
“My granddad would be proud. He always envisioned us having the premier fudge shop on the island. Now, we’ll have the only one. And in the best location too.”
The door to the kitchen banged back open and Lily charged through. “I thought I told you to—” At the sight of Patrick, she stopped short. “Why is my fudge shop being overrun by Kelleys today? I’m not open yet, sir, so if you want fudge, you’re just going to have to wait a week.”
Patrick’s smile faded at the sight of Lily. “What—what are you doing here?” He took a step back.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I think it’s best that you both go. I have a lot of work to do.”
They simply stood there. Then Uncle Patrick said, “I’m not sure what you’re doing here, Ms. Hart, but the town council has officially leased this Main Street storefront to Declan.”
A moment of silence and then she laughed.
Laughed.
“Don’t be ridiculous. This is my family’s fudge shop. We’ve had a lease from the Jonathons for seventy-four years that says it belongs to the Hart family. So…” She shrugged.
Ouch. He couldn’t really blame her for being defensive. The Kelley name convicted him as much as their own past.
Uncle Patrick shook his head. “Sorry, sweetheart, but several months ago, your mother indicated to Seb that she wouldn’t be renewing her lease for the next five-year term, and it expired last month.” He picked up the folder.
Lily stared at him, then swiped it out of his hand, wrenching the top flap back. “That’s a lie. She’s the one who brought me here this morning.” Her eyes scanned the top document, then she flipped to the next. “This isn’t right?—”
“Perhaps she doesn’t remember having the conversation with Seb, but Martha overheard it.”
“Oh yes, let’s break a seventy-four-year promise on your mother’s word .” She slapped the folder back onto the counter. “How convenient.”
“Hey,” Declan snapped. “My mom doesn’t lie.” She might be a lot of things, including a gossip queen, but a straight-up liar wasn’t one of them.
Lily held up a hand. “The point is, she’s wrong. My mother had no intention of giving up the lease. And from the paperwork, it’s only lapsed. Which isn’t a thing anymore because I’m back, my mother is headed over to pay the rent today, and I’m reopening the shop. Case closed.”
Uncle Patrick’s expression tightened. “Ms. Hart, regardless of your mother’s intentions, the bottom line is that the lease did indeed lapse, leaving it open for a viable business to use—and let’s face it, your mother hasn’t been using it for viable business for years.”
“Not true. She’s been using it to cater.”
“Yes, but she can do that out of her own home. She doesn’t need prime downtown real estate to do so. And given that it’s the town council’s job to ensure such locations are used well, and the fact the lease was up, we exercised that right to vote in the first applicant we received.”
“Whatever. Aren’t there like two Kelleys on the council, including Declan’s own mother? Seems a bit unfair to me. Besides, this is my family’s fudge shop. You can’t just steal it away.”
“No one is stealing anything,” Declan said, glancing at Uncle Patrick with an I’ll handle this, thanks look. Last thing he wanted was new shots fired on the old feud that had managed to stay mostly dormant, at least for the last decade.
Since he left town.
Now, he schooled his voice. “But the fact is that the lease did lapse. By all accounts, your mother was ready to let it go. We obtained the lease legally, Lily.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Please. You know that business around here is pretty lax. I’m sure my mom intended to re-sign the lease once Seb returned from his trip.
It’s only July seventh. According to your paperwork, it expired on June thirtieth.
That’s a week out from it being renewed. What’s the big deal?”
Declan swallowed. Problem was, she was right. Even if it wasn’t signed, he’d have to evict her. And that could take months.
So much for his short turnaround.
He looked at Uncle Patrick, who wore the past in his eyes—the feud, the hurt, the years of fracture on the island.
Not to mention that this was their only hope of saving Grandma’s house.
Besides, Lily would probably give up and go back to Florida after a month when business turned out to be harder than she thought. Because that’s what she did—ran away when things got hard. And he wasn’t going to let her steal the only chance he had at saving Grandma’s house.
“Does Mia Franklin know about this?” Lily said, her hands on her hips. “She’s the one who originally told me to come back and reopen the shop. Why would she do that if it wasn’t available to us?”
“She must not have known the lease expired.” Patrick shrugged as if to say too bad, so sad .
“But I called her last week to confirm. She set this up.”
“While Ms. Franklin was tasked over the last few months with vetting and selecting candidates, she presented them all to the council—which she is not on—and we ultimately decided who would be a good fit for the Jonathon Island culture. She isn’t necessarily privy to all the other lease agreements her father has with current tenants,” Patrick said.
“And until this morning, this shop was empty.”
“You’re splitting hairs here. It seems to me that you’re taking advantage of a situation to get the thing you’ve always wanted—my family’s fudge shop.
We always beat you out because of our Main Street location, and now you’re making a grab for it.
It was bad enough your father tried to steal my grandpa’s recipes?—”
“Lily—” Declan started.
Too late. Uncle Patrick had ignited. “Those were lies, and the Hart family knows it!”
This whole thing was going off the rails, and fast. Once upon a time, Lily had respected Declan. Maybe he could reason with her. “Lil?—”
Her eyes flashed at him. “Save it, Slick.”
“I’m just trying to get us talking, so we can hear each other’s sides without all of the emotion?—”
“That’s pointless. We all know whose side you’re on.”
Oh.
She stared at him, her eyes glossy, her jaw tight.
He sighed. Yes. Yes they did. Still, “Lily, let’s not?—”
“What’s going on in here?” Tara Chamberlain, the pastor’s wife and another member of the town council, stepped inside.
Though most women on the island dressed in casual jeans and T-shirts, Tara looked professional and put together in her slacks, red blouse, and heels, her silver-blonde hair twisted back in a clip.
“I could hear the screaming from Martha’s across the way. ”
Then her gaze landed on Lily. “Lily!” Her face brightened. “I didn’t know you were back visiting. When…” Tara’s voice trailed off and her eyebrows drew together before her gaze swung to Patrick’s. “Patrick, what’s going on here?”
“Just a simple misunderstanding, I assure you.”
“There’s nothing simple about it.” Lily rounded the counter and approached Tara. For a moment, her angry mask melted, and she smiled softly at the pastor’s wife. “It’s good to see you, though. I was sad you were away last month when I came for a visit.”
“It’s always great to see you.” Tara embraced her, then pulled back, hands on Lily’s shoulders. “But what’s going on? Why are you inside your family’s old shop?”
“That’s the thing. It’s not our ‘old shop,’ Tara. My mom didn’t know the lease lapsed, or if so, she’s in the process of renewing it. She brought me here this morning, excited that I’ve decided to reopen the shop.”
“You have? That’s amazing!”
Patrick cleared his throat. “It would be amazing, indeed, if this shop had not already been leased to another fudge company just this morning.”
“Oh dear. Hmm.” Tara pinched her lips together.
She’d lived on the island long enough to know the long-standing feud between the two families that had started fifty-five years ago when Declan’s Grandpa Barry had decided to open Kelley’s Classic Fudge in direct competition with his best friend William Hart’s shop.
Boom.
Declan had always found the feud immature. He understood the hurt on both sides, and he and Lily had tried once upon a time to forget that it existed.
And look how well that had turned out.
But maybe he should concede now. Be the bigger man. Walk away. Figure out another way to save Grandma’s house.
Except there was no other way. The contract had already been drawn up. Whoever owned the fudge shop owned the house. And there was no way—with the fury flashing in her eyes—that Lily Hart would ever concede either. She’d battle him to the death.
A battle.
That was it. The answer to how he was going to best Lily Hart and save Grandma’s house—and to be honest, he wasn’t sure which would feel better.
“I’ve got an idea.” He waited until all eyes were on him. “What about a contest?”