Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Hey, y’all!” She extends a hand to me first. “Greer, it’s so nice to meet you. Brooks couldn’t stop gushing about you when we talked earlier this week. You’re twenty-three and already making it as an entrepreneur? Amazing.”
I feel myself blushing. “I wouldn’t say I’m making it. Not on my own, anyway.”
“Pffffsh. You’re killing it,” Brooks says, slipping an arm around my waist.
Ian holds out his hand to Margaux. “Ian Holland.”
“Ian.” Their handshake lasts a beat too long. “Brooks gushed about you too. Your donation is going to really help this foundation get off the ground.”
Ian grins. “I have a hard time picturing Brooks doing all this gushing.”
“I can gush,” Brooks says.
“Since when?”
He looks at me. “Since Greer taught me how.”
Ian finally drops Margaux’s hand. “I’m going to be a gentleman and refrain from making the obvious joke. Shall we sit?”
Ian orders a carafe of mimosas.
“I hope this isn’t too forward.” Margaux sips from her champagne flute. “But I wanted to address the elephant in the room. Greer, Brooks said he told you about our date. We had a lovely time, but I will say I had a feeling there was someone else already in the picture.”
I tip back my own glass, my heart skipping a beat. I appreciate how Margaux doesn’t beat around the bush. She doesn’t waste time.
I like her.
“What made you think that?” I ask.
Margaux glances at Brooks. “He was distracted. Polite, of course, and wonderful company. But he was clearly thinking about someone else.” She smiles. “You.”
“She’s not wrong.” He locks eyes with me.
“He mentioned your bakery, now that I think about it. How he has this huge sweet tooth that only Drury Lane chocolate can fix. I went the next morning. I don’t eat sugar, but I had to make an exception for that triple chocolate muffin.” She presses her fingers to her mouth in a chef’s kiss. “It was delicious.”
I’m blushing hard. Smiling harder.
I feel like I could fly. “I wish I’d been there when you visited, but I’m usually on the trading floor in the mornings. Thank you for stopping by. So, so much. Your compliment means a lot—I worked for years to get the recipe for those muffins just right.” I turn to Brooks. “And thank you for being the walking, talking advertisement I didn’t know I needed.”
He presses a kiss to my lips. “Happy to sing your muffin’s praises.”
“You guys make it really hard not to be a pervert,” Ian says, gulping his mimosa.
Margaux laughs. “So hard. But I like doing hard things.”
Ian lets out a bark of laughter. “I like you.”
“Speaking of hard things.” Margaux reaches down to pull a laptop from the tote bag at her feet. “Let’s get this foundation set up. Brooks, I’m thrilled for y’all.”
“We’ve been talking about it nonstop all week.” Brooks puts his hand on my thigh underneath the table. “My friends came up with the idea, and Greer’s helped me flesh it out to make it something Lizzie would be really proud of.”
Margaux looks up from her screen, expression soft. “She’d be really proud of you, Brooks. And happy you’ve found someone who lights you up this way.”
Brooks clears his throat, squeezing my leg. “Thanks.”
“So you knew Lizzie,” I say to Margaux.
She nods. “We played volleyball together in high school. We became friends sophomore year, I think?”
“How sweet,” I say.
Brooks grins. “Lizzie worshiped the ground Margaux walked on. Thought she was the coolest thing since sliced bread.”
“To be fair, I am pretty cool.” Margaux feathers her fingertips over the laptop’s mousepad. “So tell me your thoughts on the foundation.”
Brooks sits up in his chair and leans forward. Hand still on my leg. “I want to focus on mental health. Specifically, I want to address the dearth of resources available to kids who are struggling. We don’t have nearly enough counselors in schools. Not enough access to therapy and support groups. Too many people are slipping through the cracks. I want the foundation to be there to catch those kids. Use the money we raise to create a safety net.”
Margaux’s fingers fly over her keyboard. “I love it. I’ll go ahead and get the ball rolling on setting you up correctly so any gifts you get are tax deductible. How do y’all plan to raise funds?”
Brooks glances at me and lowers his chin. You’re up.
“We’re thinking an annual fundraiser in addition to a monthly newsletter and a strong social media presence,” I begin. “Lizzie loved chocolate, and she loved to roller skate. We thought we’d combine the two at a big day out at her favorite venue.”
“Kate’s Roller Rink!” Margaux gasps, her hand going to her mouth. “Oh my God, I remember her taking me there once. It was hilarious. And so fun.”
“Greer and I had our first date there, actually.” Brooks meets my eyes. “We didn’t know it was our first date then, but looking back . . .”