Chapter 4 #2
And then it’s just me and Callie, separated by a glass display case full of pastries that nobody seems to want anymore, and I'm filled with conflicting emotions. Do I go after my baby sister, or find out why Callie’s here?
If there’s anything I can do or say to bridge this distance between them, I’ll do it.
“Could we go outside, please?” She folds her hands in front of her, every inch the composed librarian.
“Sure.” My voice comes out rougher than I intended.
She immediately spins and exits the store.
I follow and find her quickly walking away, toward the small park near the town hall.
She keeps glancing over her shoulder, not at me, but at the row of storefronts where curious faces peek through windows.
Her fingers fidget with the strap of her purse, and there’s a determined set to her jaw that reminds me of when she’d made up her mind about something as a teenager, like the time she decided to run for class president against the most popular girl in school.
That same look of calculated risk is written all over her face now.
Finally, she stops near a park bench and turns around to face me.
“I was thinking,” she starts, her voice a tad shaky.
“About?”
She sighs and bites her lip, a nervous gesture, confirmed by the fact that she won’t look me in the eye.
“Your family’s business is struggling,” she finally states matter-of-factly.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“And your reputation in this town isn’t exactly helping matters.”
Ouch. But fair. In the three weeks I’ve been here, two since I was officially sworn in, I’ve been told more than a few times that I probably should have stayed in Chicago. “Also true.”
“I think we can help each other,” she says.
“Help each other? How?”
She steps close enough that I can smell her light floral perfume, the scent so sweet, I want to lean in and breathe deeper. “I have a proposition for you,” she says, her words a whisper, and she looks around, making sure nobody is within earshot.
“What kind of proposition?” I can think of several I’d like to hear, but something tells me this isn’t that kind of conversation.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, like she’s preparing herself for some torturous task. “I, ah, I was thinking about my situation, and yours, or your family’s.”
“Our situations?”
“This thing between me and Harper. And the bakery.”
“And?”
“I was wondering if you’d… No, actually, I want you to be my fake boyfriend.”
I blink. Of all the things I expected her to say, that wasn’t even on the list. I buy time with a slow sip of coffee, her request ricocheting around my skull like a bullet with nowhere to land. “Your what?”
“I need you to be my fake boyfriend,” she repeats. “For two weeks. Just long enough to make an impact.”
I shake my head, trying to process this conversation. “An impact on what, exactly?”
Her jaw hardens, and I see a crack in her composure. “Harper and Kirk. I want them to see that I don’t care.”
This isn’t about helping my family’s business. This is about revenge. About making her ex-boyfriend squirm. Well, I don’t give a rat’s ass about Kirk, but I don’t want any part of hurting my sister. “Callie—”
She raises a hand to stop me. “Before you say no,” she interrupts, “hear me out. This town loves a good love story. And they love me right now more than they love Harper. If we’re seen together, if people think we’re.
.. involved, it’ll change how they perceive you and your family.
By extension, they’ll think everything’s better, and they’ll start going to the bakery again. ”
She’s not totally wrong. Callie Cooper is apparently Cupid’s Creek’s golden girl, carrying the title of librarian as well as a descendant of the town’s founder, the woman everyone is currently rooting for.
People have been singing her praises to me at every opportunity.
I’d heard through Harper that Callie’s father died not long after she started college, and then her mother a few months later, following a short battle with cancer.
Her older sister Nikki was apparently in Europe at the time, leaving Callie all alone, with only Harper in her corner. Until she wasn’t.
“I won’t do anything to hurt my sister,” I say firmly.
“I’m not asking you to hurt Harper,” Callie replies. “I’m asking you to date me. Publicly. Let people see us together, happy. That’s all.”
“And what happens when Harper realizes what you’re doing? When she figures out this is about making Kirk jealous?”
“This isn’t about….” Callie’s smile sharpens around the edges. “Then she’ll understand how it feels to lose someone important to you.”
The pain in her voice hits me like a physical blow. This isn’t just about Kirk. This is about Harper, too, about losing her best friend, her sister in all but blood.
I study her face, looking for any sign that she knows this is a bad idea.
Because it is. Getting involved with Callie again, even if it's only a fake relationship, is asking for trouble. But then I think about Harper’s defeated expression this morning.
About the stack of unpaid bills. About Anna’s dreams of making the bakery successful.
And I think about the way Callie looked at me just now, like she’s barely holding herself together but determined to try anyway.
If this scheme could make a positive dent in any of those, it might be worth a try.
“Two weeks?” I ask.
“Two weeks.”
“And all we have to do is act like we’re dating?”
“Hold hands. Share a few meals. Maybe dance at the Founder’s Day festival next month. Nothing too elaborate.”
Nothing too elaborate. Right. Like, there’s anything simple about pretending when every cell remembers what it was like to have the real thing.
“What’s in it for you?” I ask. “I mean, besides making Harper and Kirk uncomfortable.”
She hesitates, and I see something vulnerable flicker across her face. “I’m tired of being the victim in this story. Tired of people looking at me with pity. I want them to see me as someone worth fighting for.”
And there it is—the real reason. No matter what she says, this isn’t about revenge; it’s about self-respect. I should say no. Should walk away before this gets complicated. Before I start wanting things I can’t have. Instead, I hear myself saying, “I’ll think about it.”
Relief flashes in her eyes, but it’s quickly hidden. “Thanks.” She takes a couple of steps away from me, then stops. “For what it’s worth, Luke, I think your father would be proud of you for coming home. For taking care of your family.”
Before I can respond, she walks away, leaving me standing by the park bench, a cold coffee in my hand and the echo of her proposition in the air.
Two weeks of pretending to be something we’re not. The smart thing would be to say no. To find another way to save the Sweet as Sin. My savings can help pay the bills, but they can’t bring people into the bakery.
As I watch her hurry down the sidewalk, the skirt of her dress and her ponytail rapidly swishing back and forth with each step, I know I’m not going to be smart about this.
Harper’s face flashes in my mind, with her hopeful smile when she talks about Callie, and her obvious pain at the rift between them.
Dating her best friend, even if it's fake, is like walking into a minefield. But seeing the bakery’s empty tables, those stacks of bills, the defeated slump in Anna’s, Harper’s, and Mom’s shoulders.
.. I can’t walk away from a chance to fix this, even if it means risking everybody’s feelings in the process.