Despite himself, he chuckled. “That’s not important.” Somehow they’d gotten off track. And it was making him imagine an entirely different kind of sparring. He forced himself to focus. “This is what’s important. When the partnership saves both our businesses and you get on your way to…wherever it is you’re planning on going, that’s the happy ending.” Then he added, “And we have a chance to finally end that ridiculous family feud. No more Montagues and Capulets or Montgomerys and Castorinis. Everybody wins.”

There. He’d laid it all on the line. Given her his best defense. All she had to do was say yes.

She swallowed her last sip of wine, then stood. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t possibly take part in this scheme.”

He stood with her. “Give me one reason why.”

“It’s…sneaky.”

She had him there. “I would do anything for my family,” he said, desperation taking over. “Including this. But I guess I was wrong to think you’d make the same sacrifice for yours.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, looking offended now. “I’d never make you endure marriage to me. That kind of…sacrifice would be far too cruel.”

His wasp-tongued frenemy made for the door, surprisingly walking in a straight line. She wasn’t drunk, then; only a little buzzed, like he was. He could still try to reason with her.

He rushed past her and got to the door first, scrambling for some way to keep her from walking through it.

He hated to press his agenda, but he was out of options. Down to fumes in the gas tank. “Your association fee is due.”

She stopped mid-step, tripping a little before she planted her feet and glared at him.

“Actually,” he said, “Bonjour! Breads didn’t pay last month’s, either.”

The Montgomerys owned the bakery space, but the Castorinis owned the strip of shops that contained it, so they owed a fee of several hundred dollars every month for grounds maintenance, parking-lot upkeep, water and sewage, outdoor lighting—all of that.

“What are you getting at?” Her tone was horrified. She looked at him like he was a reptile that had just crawled out of the sewer. Something despicable. Which he really couldn’t argue with right now.

“Tomorrow is the first of the month.”

“You wouldn’t dare evict us.” She paused, worrying her lip. “Would you?”

“Of course not,” he said, and she let out a breath. “But I would charge interest for every day you don’t make that payment. And you’re already a month behind. That could pile up fast.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “You know what, Leo Castorini?”

“What, Tessa Montgomery?” Whatever insult she was about to throw would cut him to the bone, but it wasn’t because he had a fragile ego. It was because he knew he’d lost.