Chapter 4 - NOTHING LEFT TO BUY
Gabriel did not call the next morning.
Norah noticed at 7:12.
Then again at 8:40.
By ten, she was annoyed with herself for noticing.
Bennett Bread & Coffee smelled like cinnamon, coffee and the rosemary loaves cooling near the front window. It was the safest place in her life because everything inside it behaved according to understandable rules. Dough rose or it didn’t. Sugar burned if neglected. Customers complained about prices and returned two days later anyway.
Thomas arrived at eleven.
Norah had texted him only four words.
Come to the bakery.
Now he stood in the office holding the debt discharge.
His face crumpled.
“He really cleared it?”
“Yes.”
Thomas sat down.
Norah remained standing.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I mean it.”
“I know that too.”
He looked up.
She loved him enough to refuse to rescue him again.
“You’re going to repay me.”
Confusion crossed his face.
“But the debt is gone.”
“To Gabriel.”
Thomas slowly understood.
“I don’t want seventy-eight thousand dollars.”
“Then what?”
“Accountability.”
She placed a notebook on the desk.
“You work Saturdays. You meet with the financial counselor I found. You show me every account connected to whatever business idea you touch for the next year.”
Thomas nodded immediately.
“And if you ever borrow money from people you’re afraid to tell me about again, I will love you from a distance.”
His eyes filled.
That was harder than shouting.
“Okay.”
Norah’s throat tightened. “Mom asked me to look after you. She did not ask me to spend the rest of my life preventing you from growing up.”
Thomas wiped his eyes.
“I know.”
“No. You’re going to learn.”
He nodded.
For the first time since the envelope appeared beside the dinner rolls, Norah believed he might.
At four that afternoon, Miles Grant entered the bakery.
Norah saw him through the glass and nearly dropped a tray.
He looked absurd among handwritten pastry cards and sacks of flour.
“Get out.”
“I came to apologize.”
“No, you came because you want something.”
His mouth tightened.
“You really have changed.”
“You keep saying that like it hurts you.”
Miles glanced toward the customers.
“Mercer lost the council vote.”
Norah’s chest tightened before she could stop it.
“When?”
“Early this morning.”
She said nothing.
“Vincent Rusk got the chair.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
“It has everything to do with you.”
Norah’s expression hardened.
Miles leaned closer.
“He could have fixed it. His uncle offered him a way.”
“How do you know that?”
“I work with people who were in the room.”
That explained his invitation the night before.
Norah felt irritation replace surprise.
Miles continued. “All Mercer needed was another month of the marriage story.”
Her stomach went still.
“And?”
“He refused.”
Norah stared at him.
Miles mistook the silence.
“He threw away the most important position available to him over a bakery owner he met three days ago. Does that seem romantic to you?”
“No.”
Miles blinked.
“It seems like his decision.”
“You think he did it for you.”
“I think he kept his word.”
Miles laughed softly. “Still looking for rescue.”
Norah felt the old humiliation trying to return.
This time it found nowhere to land.
She looked at Miles and finally understood something.
He needed her to remain the woman he had left behind because otherwise he had to become the man who had actually abandoned her.
“You want to know the difference between you and Gabriel?”
Miles’s smile disappeared.
“When you left me with your debt, you spent years explaining why I should have known better.”
Norah rested both hands on the counter.
“Gabriel used my brother’s debt to get four hours from me. Then he looked me in the face and admitted that was ugly.”
Miles said nothing.
“He gave up the leverage before asking for anything else.”
“You think that makes him good?”
“No.”
Norah shook her head.
“It makes him capable of learning.”
She looked directly at the man she once thought had destroyed her life.
“You never were.”
Miles left without another word.
That evening, long after the final customer had gone, Norah found Gabriel sitting alone at the smallest table near the window.
No entourage.
No announcement.
Just Gabriel.
She locked the front door.
“You lost.”
“Apparently.”
“You don’t sound devastated.”
“I dislike losing.”
“That sounds more accurate.”
Norah sat opposite him.
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
“For another month?”
“Yes.”
“Because you would have said yes.”
She frowned.
“How do you know?”
“Your brother.”
Norah leaned back.
“That is insulting.”
“I know.”
“Then explain.”
Gabriel looked toward the dark bakery windows.
“You would have looked at seventy-eight thousand dollars. Then at your brother. Then at me. And you would have convinced yourself four more weeks were survivable.”
Norah said nothing.
He had described her perfectly.
Gabriel looked back.
“I didn’t want your yes if I knew why you were giving it.”
Something inside her went quiet.
No man had ever said anything like that to her.
Not Miles.
Not Thomas.
Not even Gabriel three days earlier.
“What do you want now?” she asked.
Gabriel was silent for a long time.
Then he said, “Coffee.”
Norah almost laughed.
“That’s it?”
“For tonight.”
She stood.
“What do you take?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know how you drink coffee?”
“People usually bring it.”
Norah stared at him.
May you like
“That may be the saddest thing you’ve said.”
For the first time since they met, Gabriel Mercer laughed without trying to stop himself.
