Chapter 33 Scarlett #2
They turn toward me, and I know it’s time to own this.
“Brendan and I weren’t dating before the wedding.
We made an agreement—I would be his plus-one, if he would introduce me to his uncle so I could have a better shot at the vendor contract.
If this shop closes, my parents and I have no income.
I thought the vendor contract was the perfect solution, and that if I could finagle a few conversations with Rafael during the wedding festivities, I could convince him I was the best candidate.
At the time, it seemed like the right decision. ”
I take a breath, trying to bolster my confidence, which is hanging by a thread.
“I’ll be honest, I realized pretty early on that I still had feelings for Brendan.
But I wasn’t going to tell him after I thought he’d ghosted me in high school.
I figured he’d laugh me right out of the wedding.
But the more time we spent together, the more I fell for him.
I just never thought you’d actually accept me into your family.
” I look around at their faces, and my throat constricts.
“But you did. And that meant everything.”
I take another breath. “And once Brendan and I were honest with each other, we threw out the arrangement completely.”
The women are silent for what feels like the longest pause of my life. “Did you hear what I said? I just confessed that I wasn’t honest with you—that we weren’t dating when I agreed to attend the wedding. We were pretending…until it wasn’t pretend anymore.”
Isabella glances at the others, then starts to laugh, and pretty soon all the ladies are chortling.
“What?” I blink, feeling like I’m the last person to get an inside joke. “Why are you laughing?”
“We already knew all that,” Isabella says point-blank.
I blink. “What? How?”
“We suspected it a long time ago,” she says with a smile.
“I know my son better than anyone. He might not show much emotion, but I could tell he was keeping something from me, and I could see how hard you were both working to make it look real, especially when I suggested he give you a kiss at the wedding shower. Then, one day, something changed. And it was clear you were no longer pretending.”
“So if you knew,” I say in an astonished voice, “then why aren’t you angry at me for not telling you sooner?”
“Because we like you,” Grandma Rosa says. “And I don’t like many people.”
“But what about using the pretend relationship as a way to get the vendor contract? You’re not…offended?”
“Heavens, no!” Isabella laughs, like it’s the most ridiculous idea. “We all knew you had ambition. A girl after my own heart! We also knew Brendan would never just ask you out, so the wedding was his excuse.”
Grandma Rosa looks over her glasses. “At our age, we can spot love from a mile away. We were just waiting for you two slowpokes to catch up.”
“We would’ve done the same thing,” Isabella says, gesturing to the women at the table. “Any of us would do whatever it takes for those we love. That’s what family does.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. Of course that’s what family does. They stand by each other. They sacrifice. Why did Rafael make me feel wrong about that?
“And we fully approve that you made Brendan work hard for you,” Elana adds, leaning back in her chair. “That boy needed a challenge.”
“But aren’t you worried I don’t really love him?” I ask worriedly. “That’s what Rafael thinks.”
“My brother said that?” Elana asks.
I nod. “He approached me at the wedding.”
“Oh,” Rosa says with a sigh. “My son sometimes lets his business mind drown out his heart. After his divorce, he stopped believing love could be real. That’s when we have to step in to remind him what’s important.”
Isabella nods. “It was obvious the entire week that you two are wild about each other. We always knew Brendan was in love with you.”
My heart feels lighter already. “He wasn’t the only one in love,” I say softly, sitting next to them. “But Rafael told me I had to choose between Brendan and the vendor contract.”
Their eyes widen.
“That little—” Elana mutters before Rosa cuts her off with a pointed look.
I look down at my fingers knotted together in my lap. “He said if I really loved Brendan, I’d leave him alone to focus on his career. And I wasn’t sure what to believe. I worried that staying in the relationship would make things worse for everyone, especially once the truth came out.”
“The truth could never make it worse,” Isabella says, leaning toward me.
“We’ve seen your heart, Scarlett—how you love the people around you.
Brendan’s always been a man of few emotions, steady as stone, much like the rest of the Marco men.
But you’re not like him; you wear your heart on the outside.
In many ways, you’re the weight on the other side of his scale, the thing that keeps him from tipping too far into silence—his perfect counterbalance. ”
Her words pierce the little protective bubble I’d put around my heart over the last few days. I sigh, and it feels like the first breath of air after being underwater. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
“Have you told Brendan yet?” Elana asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet. But I knew I had to stay and fight for him.” I glance at the ladies who are hanging on my words now. “The only problem is, now I have nothing to help my family save our coffee shop. No contract. No plan B.”
“Your family has us,” Isabella interrupts with the wisdom of someone who’s seen her share of hard times. “We can help you figure out a solution. If Rafael won’t give you the contract, we’ll come up with your plan B.”
“But how can you possibly help?” I say.
She places a hand on the table. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. First, we need those Americanos.” Isabella points at the espresso machine. “We can’t make plans to turn this business around until we’re well-caffeinated!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I rush to the counter and finish the Americanos, then bring them and a few pastries to their table near the front window.
For the first time, I finally feel like I’m not alone in trying to solve this. “Do you think there’s any way to save the cafe without the contract?”
Isabella looks at Rosa and Elana. “Well, I know three women who are looking to make an investment in a small business.”
They’re all smirking at each other over their coffee cups. “Really! Who?”
“Us, of course!” Isabella says, setting her cup down. She has a gleam in her eye that tells me she’s been concocting a plan. “You need to expand. But you don’t have the funds to open a second location, correct?”
“Yes, not without help.”
Isabella folds her hands on the table. “Have you considered a food truck? It would be less risky than another lease, and it offers you mobility and opportunities for expansion. You could take your coffee and baked goods and show up where the crowds are. Just think of all the local events at the beach—you could even go as far as Charleston.”
“Maybe even park outside the Ice House Arena.” Elana smirks. “You’d make a killing!”
“What do you think?” Isabella asks.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” I say, trying to let them down slowly. “But I can’t afford a truck.”
“Who said anything about money?” Elana waves her hand like that’s the least of anyone’s problems. “I’ll start looking for trucks right now.” She pulls her phone out.
“What we’re trying to say is that we want to help you,” Rosa clarifies. “An old lady like me could use some excitement in my life!”
“We’ll even provide the startup capital,” Isabella says.
“No.” I shake my head firmly. “I can’t take a loan from you. My brother learned that lesson the hard way.”
“It’s not a loan,” Isabella corrects, “it’s an investment. We want to be partners.”
I stare at her. “You want to go into business with my family?”
“Yes.” She leans forward, her elbows propped on the table. “All three of us see something in you that we recognize.”
“What’s that?”
“Marco ambition,” Isabella says proudly. “Refusal to quit, even when everything’s falling apart. Stubborn determination to take care of your family, no matter what it costs you. That’s Marco DNA, my dear, whether you have the last name or not.”
Something swells inside me. My stubbornness isn’t a liability; it can be a superpower too.
“We’re not asking for an answer right now,” Elana adds, pausing her used truck search. “But if we find you a vehicle, will you at least consider a partnership?”
I look at the three of them—these women who are choosing to believe in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. They’re offering me a way forward that doesn’t depend on Rafael’s approval or anyone’s permission.
For the first time since my dad got sick, I don’t feel alone.
“I’ll consider it,” I say, suddenly feeling better than I have in weeks. “Actually, more than consider it. Yes, I want to do this!”
“Excellent!” Elana claps her hands. “Now, let’s take a selfie to remember the occasion.”
“Right now?” I ask with a laugh.
“Why not?” Isabella says, stealing Elana’s phone. “We’re documenting the day the Marco women went into business together.”
We squeeze together, our faces pressed close, so no one gets cut out of the frame, even if the lens is pointed toward our nostrils at an unflattering angle.
When Elana holds up the screen, I see it—real joy, the kind you can’t fake—that comes from finally being loved for exactly who you are.
“To the Marco women!” Isabella announces as Elana snaps the photo.
I don’t point out that I’m not a Marco yet.
Because in their eyes, I already am.