Hailey:

A week after Sean and Nick start helping me fix the cottage, an unexpected visitor drops by one afternoon. Elvira Grantham.

“Come on in.” I’ve met my landlady twice so far when I’ve dropped off the rent at her large L-shaped mansion. Both times, she’d been immaculately put together, not a hair out of place. I grew up working class, and nobody ever became wealthy writing for a feminist magazine. To be honest, I’m a little intimidated by her.

“I’m sorry to barge in like this, Hailey.” Mrs. Grantham walks into the living room and looks around curiously. When I moved in, the walls were a dull shade of cream, but I finally got around to painting it two days ago, with Sean and Nick’s help. “I was driving by, and I thought I’d see what you’ve done to the place. Is it okay if I walk around?”

“Of course.” Technically, I guess I can refuse her request, but I’m not planning on it. I have no lease, and I’m paying next to nothing in rent. I don’t want to antagonize her.

Sean had called the color ‘egg yolk’ when he’d seen it in the can, but on the wall, the yellow paint looks exactly as I’d hoped. The place looks sunny, warm and bright. Still, I hold my breath, waiting for Ms. Grantham’s reaction. “What else have you done?”

“Some work in the kitchen.” I lead the way, my fingers crossed that she likes the contrast of the pink-and-white tiles with the apple-green walls. I adore color, but maybe she’d have preferred neutrals?

She runs a finger over the butcher block countertops Nick installed for me. “You’ve painted the cabinets too,” she remarks in surprise. “You really have been busy, my dear. I love what you’ve done here. You’ve made the cottage looked lived in.”

Her expression is wistful. I remember Betty Beaumont’s gossip. Does Elvira Grantham regret renting me the cottage? Is she secretly in love with Connor?

On an impulse, I blurt out, “Would you like a cup of coffee, Ms. Grantham?”

She smiles warmly. “That would be lovely, Hailey. Thank you.”

I don’t know what’s prompting me to interfere. Maybe it’s because Connor’s the nicest boss I’ve ever had, and he has the same expression of wistfulness in his eyes when Elvira Grantham comes up in conversation. Maybe it’s because of Lana’s steadfast belief that this story will have a happy ending.

Maybe it’s because I’m slowly beginning to believe in fairy tales again. Once the coffee is made, I perch on my couch. “I’m really glad I moved here,” I start. “And I love working at the Weekly Goat. Connor’s really made my transition easy.”

There’s that look of muted sadness again. “Yes,” she says, her voice quiet. “That sounds like Connor. He’s always been someone you can count on.”

“Can I ask you a personal question, Ms. Grantham?”

She raises an eyebrow, and I almost lose my nerve, but I gather my courage and dive in. “How long have you known him?”

Her lips twist. “Connor? It feels like he’s always been a part of my life. He’s a good friend.”

“If I may say so, I get the sense that he wants to be more.”

I’m fully expecting Elvira Grantham to give me a steely smile and tell me to mind my own business. To my shock, she doesn’t storm out. She stares into her coffee. “Do you trust men?” she asks, her voice a mere whisper.

Oh wow. How do I begin to answer a question like that? Two months ago, my answer would have been simple. No, of course not. Matt shattered my trust permanently.

But lately, I don’t know. In the last week, Sean and Nick have spent all of their spare time with me. We’ve worked on the cottage. We’ve eaten dinner together. Watched Netflix. We’ve talked about our lives, discussing Nick’s customers at the bar and his volunteer role on Elvira’s campaign. We’ve talked about Sean’s budget woes, about Girl Power’s slowly improving financial state, everything.

Things are good. Really good. So good that I’ve kept it a secret from everyone, even from Lana, afraid to jinx my happiness by talking about it.

My landlady doesn’t wait for my reply. “I learned at a very young age that men only wanted one thing from me.”

“You can’t believe that about Connor.”

I’ve pushed too far. She sets her coffee cup on the side table and rises elegantly to her feet. “Thank you for taking such good care of the cottage, Hailey,” she says. This conversation is clearly over. “I appreciate the hard work you’re putting into this place.”

Elvira Grantham has known Connor Perkins for more than fifty years. There’s nothing new she’s going to learn about him. She’s just afraid to trust.

I watch her leave, her back ramrod straight.

This is my future.

On the one hand, Ms. Grantham is not a lonely old lady. She’s the mayor of Goat. She’s got friends. Her social life is rich and busy. She’s involved in the community. I’ve got to be honest: In thirty or forty years, if my life is anything like hers, I’d consider myself lucky.

What about love?

Elvira could have it all. The whole town knows that Connor Perkins is crazy about her. The only thing holding her back is fear.

Sadly, I can understand that all too well.