Of all the days for the head chef to be sick, why did it have to be today when Beverly Blanche, one of the top food bloggers in the Southeast was coming to The Magnolia for lunch? Scarlett tried to think of a solution. Jeff, the back-up chef was good, but he would need quite a bit of direction to pull it off. That would mean she’d have to spend the shift in the kitchen rather than managing the floor. Her first cousin Harper was her right-hand assistant and could handle that part.

Harper burst into the room in a flurry. “The fish delivery guy just called. He got lost and needed directions.” She made a face. “It seems his GPS doesn’t work in Clementine for some strange reason. Then again, the guy seemed like he was a couple French Fries short of a Happy Meal if you get my drift.” She made a circular motion over her ear. “Anyway, he ended up at the library. He should be here any minute.” She glanced around. “Ooh, I almost forgot, I’ve gotta get the napkins and silverware put out.” She rushed over to a bin in the corner of the room and began carrying it from table to table, pulling the items out and placing them in their respective places. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Kyle just called in sick.”

“What?” Harper’s eyes rounded to saucers. “Did you tell him that’s not allowed?”

“He says he has the flu. We can’t have him giving it to the customers, or all of us.”

Harper thrust out her lower lip. “Likely excuse.” A peppy blonde with short, bouncy hair Harper bordered on the dramatic, but she was very capable and as dependable as the daily sunrise. “What’re we gonna do?” she drawled, perching her hand on her hip.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all worked out. I’ll manage the kitchen, and you take care of the floor.”

She looked mortified. “I don’t know that I’m ready for that, especially with Beverly Blanche coming. Maybe we should switch. I can supervise Jeff.”

“No, the food has to be perfect.” She looked at Harper, whose face had gone as white as the tablecloths.

“You can do this. Take a deep breath. Panicking won’t solve anything.”

Harper nodded. “Okay.”

“Everything will be fine,” Scarlett assured her. It was Scarlett’s restaurant, her reputation on the line, and she was having to calm Harper down. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. Opening a restaurant had always been Scarlett’s dream, so her grandfather took money out of his retirement to fund it. Scarlett knew the first year would be tough, but she was halfway through the second year and still not making a profit. It cost a ghastly amount to run the daily operations, and she just couldn’t seem to get ahead. They’d have a few busy days, giving her hope that things were finally starting to pick up, and then it would be slow for the next few days putting her right back to ground zero. She hoped getting a write-up by a popular blogger would give her restaurant a much-needed shot in the arm. Her boyfriend Vernon was always offering to put money in the restaurant to help with cash flow, but Scarlett turned him down. She didn’t want to add that complication to their relationship. For months, Vernon had been asking her to marry him, but she kept putting him off. She cared for Vernon, maybe even loved him, but she’d been hurt so deeply in the past that she didn’t know if she could fully trust anyone again. Everyone in Clementine assumed they were engaged, but they weren’t. Scarlett suspected Vernon had been the one to plant that seed, even though he vehemently denied it. Vernon was a good man, and he’d been very patient with her. But he wouldn’t wait around forever. It was time to make some hard decisions.

She and Harper did a quick run-through of the menu, staff, and logistics of how the lunch shift would go. When they were done, Scarlett took in a breath. “Okay, I think we’re set. Didn’t you say the fish supplier was supposed to be here any minute?”

“Yeah, that’s what he said, but he’s probably in Daphne by now.”

“We’ve got enough fish in the freezer to cover lunch and dinner today, but we’ll need his shipment for the rest of the week.”

“I’ll call him again.” But instead of reaching for her phone, Harper gave Scarlett a quirky grin. “So, how are things in your neighborhood?”

Scarlett shrugged. She could almost see the wheels turning in Harper’s head, making her wonder what her cousin was up to. “Fine … same as always, I guess. Why?”

“You haven’t seen him yet?”

“Seen who?” She had no idea what Harper was talking about. With her, there was no telling. Harper could sniff out a scrap of gossip faster than a coon dog on the trail of a rabbit.

Harper tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes sparkling. “Rocket Breeland’s back in town … staying with Coralee.”

Scarlett sucked in a breath, nearly dropping the vase of flowers she was holding.

“I know you’ve heard about his eight-game suspension from the Titans. Heck, the whole county’s probably talking about it.”

“Indeed,” Scarlett said dryly. Rigby or Rocket, as everyone called him was the biggest name that had ever come out of Clementine. People talked about him like he was a king … or a god. Scarlett was a big football fan, but she thought this hero worship crap where Rigby was concerned was over the top. Like everyone else, Scarlett had seen the news broadcasts detailing the sordid events, how Rigby punched a reporter in the locker room, dislocating the guy’s jaw. Rigby had always been a hot head. His passion and recklessness were what first caught her attention and fueled her schoolgirl crush. He was the quintessential rebel—doing whatever he wanted, then telling everyone to go jump in a lake if they didn’t like it. But there was also a tender side to Rigby that had stolen her heart … before he broke it to pieces. She clenched her jaw. Rigby Breeland was the last person she wanted to see. She realized Harper was watching her intently, probably trying to decide if she had any lingering feelings for Rigby. “What?”

“He’s staying right next door to you, and you didn’t even know?” She shook her head. “Wow, the Clementine grapevine’s falling down on the job.”

“When did he get in?”

“Yesterday.”

Harper gave her a crafty look. “Does Vernon know?”

“He hasn’t mentioned a word of it to me, and we had dinner together last night.”

“I’ll bet he’s not happy about Rigby coming home.”

Scarlett’s brows furrowed. She didn’t know what Harper was getting at, but it wasn’t funny. “Why would Vernon give a flying flip if Rigby Breeland’s in town?” She couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.

Harper shrugged, her voice going reflective as she put a finger to her chin. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe because the two of you were an item in high school? The quarterback and homecoming queen. They could’ve paraded the two of you out of here on a float. Clementine’s finest,” she drawled.

“That was eons ago. Ancient history,” she grunted.

Harper’s eyes danced. “But it’s Rocket Breeland—The Rocket.” She fanned herself. “Talk about a hottie. Those ice-blue eyes, his chiseled jaw with that delectable layer of stubble, brooding expression, rock-hard abs. He’s got that James Bond, Daniel Craig rough and tumble look—sophisticated, yet edgy.”

She didn’t need a reminder of Rigby’s qualities. They were imprinted on her soul. Much to her chagrin, there were still times when she saw his ice-blue eyes and cocky smile in her dreams. That was right before an image of his glitzy ex-wife would flash in her mind, making her sick to her stomach. “How do you know what Rigby’s abs look like?”

Harper giggled like a schoolgirl. “I saw a segment about it. A reporter snapped a picture when he was changing in the locker room. I thought he was good looking back in high school, but he’s a dreamboat now—the perfect catch.”

“The perfect catch, my foot” Scarlett muttered. “He’s a conceited jerk who has an ego the size of Texas.” She could’ve gone all day without hearing that Rigby was in town. Did Vernon know? And if so, why hadn’t he said anything?

Harper wagged a finger. “‘Me thinks thou doth protest too loudly.’”

“Oh, hush. We don’t have time for this. We’ve got a blogger to impress.”

She sighed. “Yes, you’re right. Oh, before I forget, are you going to the fair tonight?” She put a hand on her hip. “Please tell me you’ve got the dinner shift covered so you can get a break, right?”

“Yes, I have the dinner shift covered. Maggie’s acting as the manager on duty. And yes, Vernon’s taking me.” Every fall the local ladies group at the First Congregational Church organized a fair to raise money to fund their organization. Scarlett donated a dozen pies to support the cause. This year, they talked her into donating her signature, sweet potato pie for the auction. The only reason she agreed was because Vernon assured her he’d win the bid on her pie, regardless of how much it cost.

Harper’s face fell.

“What?”

“Mason’s working out of town. I don’t wanna go by myself,” she whined. “I’d hoped to go with you, but I don’t wanna be a third wheel.” She scrunched her nose. “Vernon hates it when I tag along.”

“He doesn’t hate it … exactly,” she added when she saw Harper’s arched brow. Vernon considered Harper to be loud and obnoxious. And she was … a little, but those were the qualities that made her endearing.

“Uh, huh, you keep telling yourself that.”

“Come with us.” She gave Harper a pleading look. “I would love it, and well … Vernon’ll be fine. I promise.”

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Okay.” Her face brightened. “Hey, maybe The Rocket’ll be there.” A mischievous grin formed over her lips. “I’d love to ride the Ferris Wheel with him—get him all to myself for a few minutes. Maybe steal a kiss when we get up high, overlooking the town.” She clasped her hands together. “Wouldn’t that be so romantic?”

Scarlett pulled a face. “What about Mason?” He was Harper’s on-and-off boyfriend.

“Mason’s out of town. He won’t know. And it would just be one kiss … one, amazing kiss with a gorgeous pro player. Even Mason would understand.”

Scarlett chuckled, shaking her head. “You really are too much. Maybe the stars will align and you’ll get your kiss.”

Mike, a kitchen hand stepped in from the back. “There’s a guy here saying he has some fish to deliver?” He spoke the words, uncertain, as if they were a question.

“Finally,” Harper breathed. “I didn’t think that man would ever get here. Okay, tell him I’ll be right there.”

Mike nodded, then darted out.

Harper turned to Scarlett. “Let’s get lunch taken care of with the blogger, then we can focus on tonight … and my kiss.” Her eyes danced as she laughed and did a little dance.

Scarlett couldn’t help but smile as she shook her head. “You really are too much.” She rubbed her forehead, her thoughts a jumble. Rigby Breeland was back in town, right next door. She wasn’t sure what to do with that. She took in a deep breath. At the moment, The Pope could be next door, but it didn’t change the fact that she had a lot riding on this lunch. She had to focus on that, then deal with the rest later.