Chapter 5
five
H e’d forgotten the paint.
Noah opened the bait and threw his line into the sunset-sparkling waters of Magnolia Bay with a little more force than necessary. After the whopper of a Wednesday he’d had, was it any wonder he’d forgotten to go to the hardware store? No matter how fast he worked or how many notes he made in his phone app, he couldn’t get ahead.
“Resorting to scaring the fish out of the water?” Cade Landry joined him at the far end of the west pier, the one only a half mile from the Blue Pirogue and the one they’d all unofficially claimed for their fishing nights. Cade’s title of City Development Director—not to mention his status as the mayor’s son—casually protected their holy grail of fishing spots.
“Might work better than the bait I used last time.” Noah adjusted his hold on his rod, his jaw tight. His mind raced with all the things he still needed to accomplish, but if he had stood the guys up tonight, they’d never let him live it down.
He didn’t need the list of people he was disappointing to get any longer.
Owen Dubois and Linc Fontenot strolled up the dock toward them, Linc toting an ice chest in one burly hand while Owen walked faster to keep up, clutching his favorite ball cap against a gust of wind. The tired but sturdy wooden planks creaked under their combined weight.
Linc set the ice chest down on the pier with a thump, his man-bun shifting with the abrupt movement. “Drinks are here.”
“Look who actually showed up.” Owen grinned at Noah and then held out his hand, palm up, toward Linc. “Told you he’d come. Where’s that fiver?”
Linc stared briefly at Owen’s outstretched hand before making an about-face and picking up his rod.
“You can pay me later.” Owen shrugged good-naturedly, pushing up the sleeves of his discount red hoodie. “Did anyone bring any extra bait?”
Cade toed his army-green tackle box toward Owen. “Help yourself.”
Owen began digging through the colorful lures while Cade and Linc set up their rods—Cade’s being a brand new designer pole he’d mentioned in the group text last week.
Noah took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders down and back as he stared toward the glittering blue depths. Maybe the guys wouldn’t pester him and he could fish in silence, clear his mind of stress. Maybe he could watch the gold-tinted waves lapping against the thick beams of the pier. Admire the seagulls swooping down to try to find the fish before they did. Appreciate the spring wind blowing off the bay?—
The crack of a can opening echoed across the open water. “How’d it go with Isaac?” Cade took a drag from his soda.
So much for that. Noah drew in his line to recast. “It went, that’s for sure.”
“Not good?” Cade swiped the back of his mouth with his hand. The sun glinted off his dark blond hair, the wind threatening to muss the perfect gel job he always prided himself on. “What happened?”
“Wait—Sadie came to the bank today and mentioned something went down with Mama D.” Owen’s brow furrowed as he stood, fumbling with his bobber. “Is she okay?”
“Of course she is. That woman is indestructible.” Linc’s deep voice refused any room for arguing. If he decided it was true, it must be—and usually was.
As Linc took Owen’s lure and showed him how to set it properly, Noah shrugged. Last I heard, she was at Magnolia Memorial and doing all right. I don’t have any details.”
“So did you get your government invasion report, or what?” Linc shot him a side-glance.
“His what?” Owen laughed.
“His piece of paper proving something he already knows about his own property.” Linc gestured with the lure in his hand. “A man should be able to run his own business without interference from the government.”
Cade nearly spewed his drink as he laughed. “You do remember my dad is the mayor?”
“Aye.” Linc glowered. “I said what I said.”
“So did you get it?” Owen took his pole to the edge of the pier.
“I got it all right.” Noah balanced his rod between his legs and pushed up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. Despite the wind, it was getting warmer. Or maybe having to admit failure flushed him even more than seeing Elisa had. Hopefully they wouldn’t connect those dots?—
“I heard Elisa Bergeron spilled coffee all over you, too.” To his credit, Owen tried to hide his smile but failed.
Noah clenched his jaw as he reclaimed his fishing rod. “Sadie sure was chatty today.”
“What can I say? Business accounts take a while to open.” Owen cast his line into the water, making Linc duck and glare. “But back to the inspection—what happened? You’re not as chipper as I’d imagined.”
“Maybe because you just used the word chipper .” Linc stepped back to give Owen room as he yanked on his line.
“I got something!” Whatever it was sure didn’t want Owen to reel him in.
Linc went to help him while Cade sidled closer to Noah. “You good, man?”
“About the meeting with Isaac?”
“You know what I mean.” Cade turned up his soda can for another swig. “You haven’t seen Elisa in…”
Noah kept his focus on Owen’s struggle with the fishing pole and Linc’s futile efforts to take it from him. “Twelve years.”
“That had to have been a shock.”
“The hot coffee pouring into my lap sure was.”
“What are y’all whispering about?” Linc asked, stepping back toward the cooler.
Cade fished around in his tackle box. “Elisa Bergeron.”
“Dude.” Noah shot Cade a look. “Come on.”
“Y’all’s past isn’t really a secret anymore.” Cade gestured to the town behind them.
Linc pulled free a drink. “What happened between you two?”
“You actually care?” Surprise lit Owen’s sunburned cheeks.
Linc shrugged one massive shoulder as he popped the top. “If we’re going to be out here gossiping, I’d like to be in the know. I was off at college when this drama went down, apparently.”
“Noah saw Elisa for the first time in forever today,” Cade explained.
Owen nodded eagerly. “And she was so upset she dumped coffee on him.”
“That is not what happened.” Noah groaned. “How did this fishing trip turn into narrating my life like a bad audiobook?”
“Hang on. Here are the facts—Noah and Elisa had this whole Romeo and Juliet thing going on the summer we were all eighteen.” Cade nodded his head toward Linc. “Not you, obviously. Old man.”
“I’m two years older. Shove it.”
“Just let us know what the view looks like when you hit forty first.”
Linc flexed, his bicep nearly bursting through his shirt sleeve. “Oh, it’ll look fine.”
Cade ignored him. “Anyway, it ended really bad. The whole family feud thing…her dad obviously didn’t approve of them sneaking around together, and it all blew up one night while he was cleaning his shotgun.”
Owen’s eyes grew wide as he tossed his line into the water. “He shot you?”
“ No .” Noah sighed. “We just didn’t get a lot of closure after that, and I went back to Shreveport. See? This is why I never talk about it.” Not to mention it wasn’t a pleasant topic to revisit. Then fragments of memory, coated with Elisa’s vanilla perfume and sun-kissed hair, skittered across his mind.
Okay maybe the memories weren’t all bad. Just what they turned into.
“We were kids. We should have known better—maybe we did. Maybe the forbidden element is what made it what it was.” Noah shrugged. “Regardless, it’s over, and Elisa didn’t pour coffee on me on purpose. Let’s set that rumor straight.”
“What is this whole feud about, anyway?” Linc asked. “I guess I’ve missed that too. Just know your families hate each other.”
“Elisa’s ancestors accused mine of stealing land from them, all the way back to patent in the 1800s. It’s been a bone of contention ever since.”
“That’s dumb,” Linc declared.
“I agree. But it’s the land the Blue Pirogue is on, so it affects me. Especially now.”
Cade leaned against the pier railing. “I’ve always leaned your way on that whole thing—namely, because I know how Isaac can be—but I can’t hate on Elisa. We go all the way back to our elementary school days.”
“Yeah, I know. We all hung out together in middle school. Braces, acne, Cade’s endless pranks, and all.” A grin worked its way up to the surface. “Those yearbook photos would make for excellent blackmail.”
“And then you moved.” Cade rolled his eyes. “Just had to break up the party.”
“Obviously that wasn’t my choice.” Noah shook his head. “Definitely my father’s.”
Owen frowned. “I thought your parents divorced?”
“They did. After my dad’s infidelity, my mom pulled me out of ninth grade early on and moved us to Shreveport.” Noah scoffed. “Nothing like starting a new high school in a new city.”
“Yikes.” Owen scrunched his face in sympathy as he adjusted his line.
“Well, personally, I’m glad you’re in town again, even if it is temporary.” Cade clapped Noah on the shoulder. “And even though you stubbornly refuse to stay.”
“I know, man.” The encouragement took a bit of the edge off Noah’s day. “Thanks.”
“If you two are done being mushy, there’s more fishing to do.” Linc glared as Owen turned and held up the tiny snapper he’d snagged.
He handed Owen a different lure from Cade’s tackle box. “You’re baiting the next one yourself, show-off.”
“Now that you have the inspection report clear, what’s your plan? How long until you abandon us again?” Cade asked.
Owen went to work with a metal jig while Noah reeled his own line back in. He let out a slow breath. “I don’t have a clear inspection report. Isaac failed it.” Noah set his rod down. Time for a cold one.
As if reading his mind, Linc handed him a drink from the cooler. “That’s low, man. He should be more professional.”
“The worst part is…I think he was.” Noah shut the cooler lid and sat on top of it. It’d be easier to blame the rejection on Isaac’s longstanding beef with his family or even on those threatening letters the man sent to the inn that summer when Noah was with Elisa. But the proof was in the photos. “The Blue Pirogue has black mold.”
“From Hurricane Anastasia?” Cade picked up his rod from the pier, casting a questioning look over his shoulder at Noah.
Noah nodded. “Most likely. Going to be hard to prove that was the cause, though.”
“Insurance company won’t like that.” Linc crossed his arms over his dark red shirt. “Might not cover it without evidence.”
“Way to help, Pollyanna.” Cade snorted as he cast his line. It zipped cleanly through the air and landed in a patch of water highlighted with the sun’s reflection. “Pretty sure he’s aware of that.”
Linc shrugged a beefy shoulder. “The truth is the truth.”
“And the truth will set you free.” Owen, still attempting to bait his line, glanced up at them.
“Is that in the Bible?” Linc squinted down at him, arms still crossed. “Or is that another one of those ‘God helps those who help themselves’ assumptions of Scripture?”
Owen shifted his kneeling position on the dock. “It’s in there. Out of context for this conversation, maybe, but check John 8 next time you crack open the Word.”
“Leave it to the PK to know for sure.” Cade tugged at his line.
Owen grinned good-naturedly, though the pastor’s kid references had to get old after a while. “You guys could know as much, too, if you read a little more.”
“I know Scripture, but I’m bad at the references.” Cade shrugged.
That was more than Noah could say. He was bad at all of it. In fact, his grandfather’s funeral had been the first time his rear had landed in a pew in nearly a decade.
After all, if he couldn’t fully trust God, it was probably better to stay off his radar.
“So what are you going to do?” Linc brought the conversation back around to its unfortunate origin. “Is Bergeron shutting you down?”
Noah shook his head. “Isaac technically can’t, but he did point out I can’t operate until it’s handled. Threatened to go to Judge Morrow to make that official if I don’t take this seriously. And right now, the inn seriously can’t afford any more loans.”
Cade sighed. “I’m afraid Bergeron’s right on that one. And my father is big on safety, especially post-hurricane. So I couldn’t get him to sweet talk Morrow for you if that happened.”
“At this point, I’m hoping insurance will kick in.” Noah drummed a nervous rhythm on the cooler. “They covered some of the earlier repairs right after the storm, but I’m not sure if this is going to qualify.”
“What about your dad?” Cade asked.
Noah cut his eyes hard to his friend. “What about him?” He heard the poison dripping from his own voice, so it was no surprise Cade immediately shot him a “never mind” look.
Russell Hebert might be making a name for himself on the west coast with his hotel chain, but he wasn’t an option for borrowing money—and not only because he would probably say no.
“Sorry.” Noah took a deep breath. “I decided years ago I didn’t need him, and I’m not going to start now.” Their semi-annual phone conversations were plenty. Even then, it was hard to shut out Noah’s teenaged urge to earn his dad’s attention.
But his father had made his choices years ago—ones that didn’t include Noah.
“It’s all good, man.” Cade adjusted his line. “Just making sure it wasn’t an option.”
“You never know about insurance coming through.” Owen sprang to his feet, holding his successfully baited line like a prize. “Life can surprise you sometimes.”
“That’s for sure.” Noah hesitated. Did he really want to reveal the next surprise of the day? Might as well get it over with—they’d hear eventually. He stood and ambled to the edge of the pier with his rod, bracing one hip against the low wooden railing. “I got another one of those life surprises at August Bowman’s office today. Turns out my grandfather left more inheritance for me.”
“Dude!” Cade slapped him on the back, jostling his fishing pole. “That’s huge! Why didn’t you lead with that? Won’t that solve your money problem?”
Noah winced. “It’s a bit of a game to get it. Literally.” He took a deep breath, flinging his line into the waters as he rattled off the next words. “I have to solve clues to find it. Like a treasure hunt.”
“That’s not so bad. Kind of fun, huh?” Owen squeezed past Linc to the ice chest.
Linc scoffed. “Aye, your grandfather was a character. I’m not surprised at all.”
“It’d be almost more surprising if he didn’t have some kind of last laugh from the grave.” Cade chuckled.
That was true—frustrating, but true. Noah watched as his red and white bobber danced on the waves. Grandpa had always been eccentric—the kind of man equally as likely to scold Noah for lying as he was to invite him onto the roof of the inn with a paper towel roll to watch for pirates. Or spend an afternoon out on the boat, rowing and offering brain teasers for Noah to dissect, like his favorite quote from The Count of Monte Cristo — To learn is not to know; there are the learners and the learned. Memory makes the one, philosophy the other.
He missed him.
“That’s not all.” Noah cleared his throat and tightened his grip. “I have to do the hunt with Elisa Bergeron.”
Silence filled the space between the men. Only the cry of a seagull interrupted the sudden stillness.
“Okay, so maybe you can appeal the will.” Cade raised an eyebrow at Noah. “That’s a thing.”
“I’d have to ask August.”
“Seems to me if that was an option, he’d have presented that in the moment.” Linc shrugged in that annoying, no-nonsense way he did when he was right.
“I agree. Just play it out.” Owen rummaged around in the cooler and retrieved a can of sparkling water.
“Aye.” Linc cast and stared stoically out into the water. “Besides, what kind of grandson would you be if you tried to blatantly override your grandfather’s wishes?”
Owen dropped his water can and gaped.
“Linc!” Cade exclaimed. “Come on, man.”
Noah scrubbed his hand over his chin. “He’s right.” Brash, but right. “I’m stuck, and Grandpa knew it.”
“ Knows it, maybe.” Owen chased the can as it rolled a few feet down the pier. “He could be watching all this, too.”
Cade pulled an errant weed off his line before recasting. “Does Pastor Dubois agree with your theology on that one?”
Owen cleaned the top of the can with his shirt hem. “There’s actually a lot of theologians who believe our loved ones can see—” Sparkling water spewed in his face as he opened it.
“Before we start arguing religion or politics, can we get back to my problem?” Noah set his rod on the pier as Owen swiped his face with his sleeve. Enough fishing for one day. He turned to Linc. “So you think I should do this?”
Linc met his gaze and held it. “I think your grandfather had a plan and it’s worth respecting.”
Noah flinched, his fists clenching at his sides as if on autopilot. “There wasn’t a lot of respect when he refused to tell me his cancer had come back until the last minute.”
Linc, for once, stayed silent.
Noah bit his bottom lip until he tasted blood. Why had he said that? He hadn’t admitted that to more than the mirror in months. But if he’d only known the remission was over, he could have?—
Cade set his pole down with a clatter and came to Noah’s side. “Look, I know it’s been a rough year.”
“I’ve had worse.” Like the year he was fourteen, for example, and learned how bad his dad sucked at being a family man. But this year had also been up there—and it kept escalating. “I’m just overloaded with renovations for the inn.”
“Before tourist season starts.” Owen nodded in understanding, taking a careful sip from his dented can.
Noah waved a hand at Cade. “You should understand that. You’ve been working with your father the past six months on fundraisers for all these rebuilding efforts.”
“Well, sure. I think we all understand busy.” Cade gestured toward Owen. “On this pier alone, we’ve got a loan officer in the middle of a city financial crisis, and a fisherman?—”
“Aye.” Linc rolled his eyes. “For the hundredth time, crawfishing is not the same as fishing.”
“— crawfisherman trying to maintain a living in an economic dip,” Cade continued.
“Exactly.” Noah exhaled. “So you guys can see how I don’t have time to work in a wild goose chase…which I’m horrible at, by the way. I might have inherited the inn, but not Grandpa’s puzzle-solving skills.”
Owen furrowed his brow. “Maybe that’s why he wanted Elisa to help. Isn’t she in the Puzzlers Club?”
Cade nodded. “She heads up the annual town scavenger hunt, too. She’s great at that stuff.”
Noah shot a look at Cade, who lifted both hands and shrugged. “Just stating facts, man.”
It didn’t matter. “I don’t want her help. We can’t work together.” They couldn’t even have a conversation together, if the run-in at August’s office had been any indication. “Besides, if he knew I couldn’t do it, then why even start this in the first place? He could have willed whatever he wanted from the beginning.”
“I don’t know. It sounds to me like this might be God solving your money problem with the Blue Pirogue.” Owen’s eager smile did not match Noah’s opinion of the idea.
“Whether the Lord is involved or not—it doesn’t sound like you have a choice if you want the money.” Linc, the only one still fishing, kept his eyes on the water. “So it comes down to what’s the inn worth to you?”
That wasn’t fair. The inn had been the one constant in Noah’s childhood—the one thing he could count on in his troubled teen years when he couldn’t depend on anything else. No matter how unstable things were between his parents as a kid, or how hard it’d been finishing high school in north Louisiana with a bitter single mom, he could always come back to the Blue Pirogue for the summer.
He couldn’t fail it now. Was he being prideful in resisting the help? Grandpa had arranged it like this for a reason.
He just couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.
“That man-bun gives you much wisdom.” Owen teasingly swiped at Linc’s hair but could barely reach the balanced knot at the top of the guy’s six-four frame.
“It’s not a man-bun,” Linc growled, jerking out of range. “It’s just my hair.”
“I agree with Owen. I think this might be the Lord working. But maybe the insurance will come through, and it won’t be such a pressing decision for right now.” Cade opened his tackle box and rifled through the colorful assortment. “We can always hope, right?”
He’d been a little short on hope lately. But Cade was right. There wasn’t necessarily a decision to make today. Besides, Elisa might not even want to work with him after he’d charged out of Mr. Bowman’s office like a bat out of an exceptionally hot place.
“I’ll see what my insurance company says and go from there.” There. Decision not made. And somehow that felt like enough for now. Noah took a deep breath of salt-laced air.
But blast if he didn’t still smell traces of vanilla and honey.
* * *
Elisa’s best friend and roommate, Zoey Lakewood, set a white bakery box of beignets on the vintage trunk-turned-coffee table between them before plopping onto the dark gray sofa. “I brought leftovers. You know what I always say—can’t dish without a dish.” She tossed back her long black hair and grinned.
Elisa leaned forward in the floral armchair she’d had since college—the one Zoey had kept for her while she was away at culinary school—and plucked a powdery treat from the pile. Zoey opened Bayou Beignets a little over a year ago and had already won local awards for best dessert on the island. “Thoughtful as always.”
She started to take a bite, but Zoey lunged forward, arms extended, nearly knocking over their water bottles. “Wait!”
Elisa froze, beignet halfway to her mouth.
Zoe’s bright blue eyes widened. “Remember the cardinal rule of beignets.”
Right . Don’t inhale or exhale. Elisa held her breath and shoved half the beignet into her mouth. Powdered sugar melted on her tongue and provided a delicious reprieve from her thoughts. Her mind kept churning up worry like the silt at the bottom of the bay.
“I’ve successfully sugared you up. Ready to talk now?” Zoey tugged a navy polka-dotted throw pillow into her lap and settled in.
They’d shared many a chat in this living room over their past two years of rooming together—an extra blessing for Elisa, since having a roommate meant she’d only had to stay with her dad for a brief time after leaving culinary school. If these walls—which were mostly covered in framed canvases of Zoey’s black and white photography prints—could talk, they’d have more than a few secrets to share.
Elisa finished chewing before speaking. “I know you heard about Delia falling at the diner.”
Zoey waved a dismissive hand. “The whole town heard.” She leaned in. “Did you really hit on Captain Sanders?”
“ No .” Elisa reached for a second beignet, then thought better of it and sat back against the chair. “I…convinced him to give me information.”
“I bet.” Zoey plucked a pastry from the box and chomped into it, powdered sugar providing her with a temporary mustache. “So how is Delia? That I haven’t heard.”
“Physically, she’s going to be fine. Eventually.” Elisa had left Mr. Bowman’s office and gone straight to the hospital to check on Delia before visiting hours ended. The sweet woman had been a little groggy from pain meds but coherent enough to confirm Elisa’s worst fear.
“Great!” Zoey clapped her hands, sending another puff of sugar into the air. “Praise the Lord.”
“Amen.” Elisa licked leftover sugar from her finger, then hesitated. She wished the story ended with the praise. Because I am grateful, Lord. The silent prayer lingered in her heart.
But there was more to the story.
She inhaled a tight breath. “The surgery will be what Delia needs, but she’s going to have to sell the café to afford the operation.”
“What?” Zoey’s hands fell to her lap. “She can’t sell the Blossom. That place has your blood, sweat, and tears seeped into every surface.” She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe scratch that specific description, but you know what I mean.”
“My reaction was the same, trust me.” Elisa swallowed hard, dusting her hands on the plaid pajama pants she’d changed into upon arriving home. She needed all the comfort she could get tonight—especially considering the other blow Delia had delivered.
The one she hadn’t even had time to process for herself yet.
“Is there no other option?” Zoey clutched the pillow to her chest.
“She offered to sell it to me.” Elisa’s stomach twisted. “That’s the worst part. I can’t begin to afford it.”
Nor could her father, even if she found the courage to ask. He made a decent living now, but they’d never had extra growing up. The medical bills had piled up for her mother, along with the unexpected funeral costs. Elisa had worked her behind off to send herself to culinary school…just to throw it all away.
Not that Trey had given her a choice.
“Ugh. I hate that.” Zoey frowned, her dark bangs nearly obscuring her sympathetic gaze. “Buying the Blossom would be so perfect for you.”
In theory, yes. In reality… “Even if I could, it wouldn’t be the same without Delia. She’s the talent.”
Zoey pursed her lips. “You went to culinary school. She’s not the only one with skills in the kitchen.”
Elisa rolled her eyes. “I haven’t cooked in years. I’m a manager now for good reason.” Reasons she wasn’t about to discuss tonight. The day had been emotional enough without fixating on her memories with her mom.
“I heard a few other interesting things today.” Zoey quirked an eyebrow. “Word got around that the Bergerons and the Heberts were mixing.”
Elisa tugged at the suddenly confining neck of her zip-up sweatshirt. “That’s the last thing I need right now.”
“You know small-town gossip chains—and you guys are two popular links right now.” Zoey smirked. “So what happened?”
Elisa filled her friend in on the moments after Delia’s collapse, where Noah had rushed to her aid like—well, like a friend.
“That’s good, right?” Zoey frowned. “Why are you telling me this like I should be upset?”
“Because I hate that I opened up to Noah.” Elisa pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and sank into it. “I thought maybe something had shifted a little between us, into, I don’t know—mutual acceptance?” Heat flushed her throat. “But he was right back to being awful afterward. I’m a fool.”
“You’re hardly a fool.” Zoey shifted positions on the couch. “You were in a state of crisis.”
That was one way to put it. Fear struck hard when Delia hit the floor. “I froze. Watching the firemen, with their stabilizers and blood pressure cuffs and bandages…it all looked so official. So necessary.”
Zoey tilted her head. “It was necessary. That’s their job.”
“I know. I meant…” Elisa fiddled with her hood string. Her throat tightened and she squeezed back the unwelcome emotions. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—break down. She’d stayed strong for Delia—once she was awake, at least, since she hadn’t managed to do so while she was unconscious—and hadn’t reacted poorly at the hospital. She’d even kept her cool with Noah, hadn’t let him see how much he fazed her.
She couldn’t fall apart now.
Despite Elisa’s silence, recognition lit Zoey’s eyes. “The incident today reminded you of your mom.” Her voice dipped in compassion.
Elisa burrowed further into her sweatshirt until the knot in her throat loosened. “I don’t know why.”
“It’s understandable.”
She squinted at her friend. “Fainting and hip pain aren’t the same as cancer.”
“Trauma is weird.” Zoey shrugged. “No one can hold you responsible for what you said in the middle of a trigger. Not even Noah Hebert.”
“I was so afraid I was going to lose Delia too.” Elisa edged the hood away from her face. “She’s going to be okay. But the café...”
“So you’re still potentially losing something you love.” Zoey sighed.
“My mom worked at that diner. How can I let it go without a fight?”
Zoey twisted her lips to the side. “There’s got to be something you can do.”
The rest of the afternoon blipped back on Elisa’s radar, shooting off welcome sparks of indignation. “Well, it wouldn’t have to be like that, if Noah would get his head out of his stubborn?—”
“Not feeling so vulnerable and crisis-y anymore, are we?” Zoey snorted.
“Noah has a way of making all good feelings vanish.” She updated Zoey on Gilbert including Elisa in his will and the treasure hunt stipulation. “In a way, I don’t blame Noah for being upset. I am a Bergeron.”
“Yeah—and Gilbert was a grown man who could do what he wanted.” Fire lit Zoey’s blue eyes. “I’d be happy to point that out to Noah. I can’t believe he’s refusing to do this hunt when you need the money for such a good cause.”
“To be fair, he doesn’t know I need the money to pay for Delia’s surgery. And it’s his grandfather. His decision to make.” Elisa bit down on her lower lip. “Unfortunately.”
“Do you know how much you stand to inherit?”
Elisa shook her head. “I didn’t want to ask. I figured if we were supposed to know, Mr. Bowman would have told us in the meeting.”
“An unknown inheritance. Could be anything.” Zoey’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “What if you did the hunt and only got fifty bucks?”
Elisa grinned. “Then I’d get to watch Noah grow a second head.”
“He deserves to be pranked from the grave, honestly.”
Zoey’s loyalty radar had always flared high—it was one of her best qualities as a friend. “I appreciate that. And these.” Elisa finally gave in and snagged another beignet. “It’s frustrating to have a solution so close, yet out of reach. But like you said, we don’t even know if my share would help make a dent in Delia’s hospital bills.”
“You could do the hunt and find out.”
“Not solo. It was clear we work together or not at all.” She bit into her dessert, staring aimlessly at her favorite canvas of Zoey’s—a close-up of Delia behind the counter at the Magnolia Blossom, head tilted back in wild laughter—as she let herself imagine what the hunt would entail. Following clues, solving riddles… It would be fun, if it wasn’t with someone who hated her guts.
“Convince Noah, then. Turn on that charm of yours.” Zoey deepened her voice and upped her southern twang. “ Sugar .”
“Oh, stop it.” Elisa tossed the chair pillow at her roommate, who batted it onto the navy pinstripe rug. “I think Noah’s immune to me.”
“He wasn’t that one summer.” Zoey caught the pillow and wiggled her eyebrows.
“No fair.” Elisa gestured with her beignet. “That summer is off limits. And so is he.”
“It’s too bad, really. You guys made a great couple while it lasted.”
“Try telling that to my dad.” Elisa rolled her eyes. “Not that Noah would be interested anymore anyway after getting run off my porch with a shotgun.” Not that that was the whole story.
Zoey scrunched the pillow into her chest. “It probably wasn’t as dramatic as you remember.”
“Dramatic or not, the end result was the same—Noah walking away, and never coming back.” She could still see the stretch of his T-shirt across his back even now, if she closed her eyes long enough. Funny how a short relationship so long ago could linger like yesterday.
“Regardless of shotguns and past summers…you know what you need to do.” Zoey eyed the beignet box, as if debating going for another pastry. Then she met Elisa’s gaze. “For Delia.”
“I know.” Elisa pulled the hood up over her head again. Maybe she could burrow into this jacket a little farther and find a back door into Narnia…
“So go do it. Swallow your pride.”
Elisa grimaced. “I don’t think I have any left when it comes to Noah Hebert.”
“Here.” Zoey tossed a water bottle at Elisa. “This will help wash it down.”
Elisa caught the bottle and stuck out her tongue. “Cute.”
“Noah sure is.”
“That has zero bearing on anything!”
“Except making the scenery better when you beg him to do the treasure hunt.”
Elisa frowned. “Who said anything about begging?”
“I misspoke.” Zoey uncapped her bottle and paused. “When you charm him into doing the treasure hunt.”
Elisa laughed, but her hands shook as she twisted the lid on the bottle of water. She clearly no longer had any effect on Noah Hebert.
But for Delia’s sake, she had to try.