Maybe he needed to focus a bit more on the shop. It didn’t seem to matter, though, when the bulk of the orders came from online sales. When it was just him in the store, he could do whatever he wanted.

Looking at it through Angi’s judgmental eyes made him see the space in a different light.

“Listen to your mom,” he repeated. He might be able to view the store with fresh eyes, but he wasn’t going to change everything—or anything—just for her. Suddenly his offer for the boy to hang out with him seemed desperate, as if Gabe couldn’t stand his own company. Ridiculous, because even when he’d been surrounded by a platoon of fellow soldiers he’d been alone in the deepest part of himself. “You’re better off out of my hair. Take a hint and don’t make a nuisance of yourself where you’re not wanted.”

Andrew’s chin jerked up, and Gabe heard Angi’s harsh gasp of breath. Maybe he’d gone too far with his words. So what? She didn’t want her kid hanging out with Gabe, and Gabe didn’t want it either. A clean break would be better for all of them.

“You’re mean,” Andrew said. “Just like everybody else.” He pushed out the front door, and his mother hurried after him.

“I know you hate me,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “I probably deserve it. But Andrew didn’t do anything to you. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

Gabe realized his chest was heaving in and out when the store descended into silence once again. He stood there for a long moment tamping down the shame that threatened to overtake him, and then he returned to filling orders, knowing he hadn’t been proud of himself for a very long time.

ANGI BURST THROUGH the back door of the Wildflower Inn on Friday night, her gaze darting between Emma and Mariella Jacob, the former famous wedding dress designer who handled most of the inn’s marketing and branding. From the website to social media to selecting the aromatic diffusers in each bedroom, Emma rightly trusted Mariella to choose the best. Somehow, the cool blonde also managed to source amazing deals on everything from high thread count sheets to locally made toiletries for the bathrooms.

Plus, Angi had noticed the steady foot traffic in and out of Mariella’s secondhand store a couple of blocks over from the restaurant. The dress designer might have left her society life and fast-track career behind in New York City when she’d moved to Magnolia, but there was no denying her talent for design and marketing. Some people were just built to be successful.

Too bad Angi wasn’t one of them.

“What’s wrong?” Angi demanded. Having responded to an SOS text from Emma, she expected to find some sort of crisis playing out with guests or the last-minute details for tomorrow’s wedding.

Both Emma and Mariella had the good sense to look sheepish.

“We thought you needed a break,” Emma said, then pointed a finger at Mariella. “I told you this was a bad idea.”