As if tripping over the paint tray weren’t bad enough, things got worse when Scarlett got to the restaurant and saw the banner plastered over the front. She charged in looking for Harper, finding her in the back office. “What in the heck is that banner doing out front?”

Harper looked up from her desk. “Well, good morning to you too.”

“Not hardly,” Scarlett huffed. The paint fiasco had cost her an extra forty-five minutes, and she was in no mood to go rounds with Harper.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’ll live,” she said dryly. She pinned Harper with a look. “The sign?”

She picked up a pencil, twirling it in her hand. “I thought it was a good idea … you know, considering.” She put the pencil down and clasped her hands together. “You don’t like it?”

Scarlett threw back her head, causing her hair to fly back. “Of course, I don’t like it. Do you think I want my restaurant associated with the stupid auction?”

Harper waved her arm. “Did you see all the people at the restaurant this morning? The majority of them have been ordering sweet potato pie … for breakfast!”

Scarlett ran her hands through her hair. From the minute Rigby stepped foot back in Clementine things had gone haywire. An incredulous laugh bubbled in her throat, and she couldn’t stop it from escaping.

Harper gave her a suspicious look. “What?”

“The restaurant’s busier than it has ever been.”

“I know, we’re packed, and the day has just begun.” Harper’s eyes sparkled. “Isn’t it great?”

Scarlett plopped down in a nearby chair, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe you put up a banner saying, Home of the Ten-Thousand-Dollar Sweet Potato Pie. How did you even get it made so quickly?”

She laughed. “I know, pretty ingenious, huh? I called in a favor with Chrissy at the sign shop. I figure the restaurant should benefit from some of the publicity.” Harper’s expression grew contrite. “I’m sorry, I know I should’ve asked you first, but …”

“But you knew I’d say no.”

“Yes, and I also know we need the exposure.” Her voice went an octave higher. “And it’s working.”

Scarlett just sat there, glaring.

Harper gave her a contrite look. “I really am sorry.”

She rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Fine, the banner can stay.”

Harper let out a relieved breath. “Good.” She hesitated, studying Scarlett. “I’m sorry about the blog post.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Have you talked to Vernon?”

“No, I need to go to his office later today to do damage control.”

“I still can’t believe Rigby paid ten thousand dollars for your pie.” A mischievous glint lit her eyes. “Did he think it was worth it?”

Scarlett’s head shot up. “What?”

“Did he think it was worth it?” Harper repeated slowly like Scarlett was a third grader.

“He didn’t even eat any of it.”

“What?” she exploded, then started laughing. “That’s crazy. The poor man paid a fortune for it and then didn’t even get to eat it. Something’s very wrong with that picture.”

“He was about to when my grandpa showed up and made a big deal about me being there with Rigby instead of at home with him and Vernon, eating ice cream.”

Harper’s eyes rounded, and then she let out a devious giggle. “Your life is so twisted.”

“Tell me about it,” Scarlett muttered darkly.

Harper began fidgeting with her hands. “Um … there’s more.”

Scarlett went rigid. “What?”

She laughed nervously. “I sort of asked Rigby to come here today and do a photo shoot.”

Scarlett felt like she might have an out-of-body experience. “How could you?”

“You put me in charge of the marketing, and that’s what I’m doing.”

“But not like this!” She clenched her jaw. “I don’t want Rigby Breeland anywhere near my restaurant.”

Harper raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

The tone of Harper’s voice tromped on Scarlett’s last nerve. “Really!”

“You like him.”

She made a face. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” Harper countered, “a lot. That was obvious last night when you about killed yourself to win those tickets. And I still haven’t gotten over the fact that you knocked me out of riding the Ferris Wheel,” she pouted. “Of course, I realized I don’t wanna kiss Rocket, seeing how he’s still carrying a torch for you.”

“Just because I wanted to throw pie in Rigby’s face doesn’t mean I like him, and I don’t appreciate you insinuating I do,” she said tartly.

Harper shook her head. “I’m not gonna sit here and argue with you about the obvious.” Her eyes went soft. “Look, I know Rocket coming back to town is a big shock to you. You had your life all planned and wrapped in a neat, tidy bow. But life rarely works out like we think, and that’s the beauty of it. Contrary to what most of Clementine thinks, you’re not engaged to Vernon. So why not take a step back, reevaluate things?”

“And then what?” Scarlett snapped. “What happens when Rigby goes back to his glitzy life in Tampa and leaves me in the dust?” She bit down to stop her lower lip from trembling. She couldn’t go through the pain of having her heart stomped on again.

Harper’s eyes widened. “Wow, you really do like him … a lot.”

“I don’t know why we’re even talking about this,” Scarlett muttered moving to stand. “We’ve wasted enough time. The restaurant’s not going to run itself.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Harper said, waving a hand, “sit back down.”

Reluctantly, Scarlett complied.

“Look at me,” she ordered.

Scarlett blew out a breath, meeting Harper’s eyes. “I’m looking.”

“You’re one of the most accomplished women I know.” She smiled. “I mean, look at this restaurant.” Her lips drew together as she collected her thoughts. “But you need to stop running from your heart.” She gave Scarlett a pointed look. “You’ve never told Rigby the whole truth, have you?”

The comment steamrolled Scarlett as she drew back. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” she said stiffly.

“Well, for starters, it’s the truth.” Harper folded her arms over her chest, staring Scarlett down. “You’ve been running from yourself and Rigby this entire time … right into the waiting arms of Vernie Stanley.”

She growled. “How many times do I have to say it? It’s not Vernie, but Vernon.”

“Uh, huh. A rose by any other name is a rose still the same.”

Scarlett wrinkled her nose. “That’s not how the saying goes.”

Harper twirled her hand. “Whatever … you get the point.” She paused. “I’ll say this once, and then you won’t hear it from me again. Vernie’s a nice guy.”

“He’s more than a nice guy,” she uttered. “He took care of my grandma when she was sick. He was there for me when I needed him.” Few people could understand the depth of gratitude Scarlett felt for Vernon, who’d been there during those crucial times when she needed someone the most. Wasn’t that the essence of love? Being there?

“Yes, he was there, and you should be grateful. But that doesn’t mean you have to get engaged … marry him.”

She let out a drawn-out sigh. “We’re not engaged, and if I do marry him, it won’t be out of gratitude. Vernon’s a great guy. Lot’s of girls would be proud to have him.”

“And if you’d never met Rocket, the same might hold true for you.” Her voice grew ardent as she leaned forward. “But you did meet Rigby. You’ve been in love with him for years. He’s your Heathcliff.”

“My what?”

“You know … Wuthering Heights.” A smile tipped her lips. “You’ve been given a great opportunity to make this right, Scarlett Foster. To be true to your heart. What you choose to do with that opportunity is up to you.”

The words burned into Scarlett making her feel like her head was on fire. She couldn’t deal with this right now. “Thanks,” she mumbled through tight lips.

Harper wagged a finger. “Oh, no, don’t do that.”

“What?”

“That Southern Belle thing where you pay me lip service while drawing into yourself. Will you at least think about what I’ve said?”

“Of course,” she said, flashing a cool smile.

Harper sighed. “You’re the most stubborn woman on the planet. You can’t say I didn’t try.”

One of the servers rushed in the room. “People are already lined up outside, and the lunch rush hasn’t even started,” she said breathlessly. “What do we do?”

A wide smile spread over Harper’s lips as she stood. “Well, Evelyn, we’re just gonna have to serve them one at a time. Have the sweet potatoes arrived yet?”

“Yes,” Evelyn said, “a few minutes ago.”

Scarlett cocked her head. “Sweet potatoes?”

“I ordered them from the grocery store this morning. I figured we didn’t have time to wait for our supplier,” Harper explained.

Scarlett stood. “Good thinking. It seems we’ve got some sweet potato pies to make.”

Harper wagged a finger. “Don’t think for one minute you’re off the hook about that other thing we’ve been talking about.”

Scarlett made a face. “Whatever.”

* * *

There was something cathartic about the monotonous motions of painting the house, Rigby decided as he stepped back admiring his work. He was able to get an entire side painted today and planned to tackle the back tomorrow. After the house was done, he’d do the landscaping. It felt good to do something to help his grandmother. She was so fiercely independent and seemed to be doing just fine on her own for the most part, but Rigby could tell she’d slowed down a bit, although her reduced pace was most people’s normal. Rigby had dreaded cooling his heels in Clementine for a few weeks, but it was actually nice to be alone with plenty of time to think. Of course, he’d probably think differently about the situation come Sunday when he was watching the Titans play without him. Jeremy Givens was playing in his stead during the suspension, and while Rigby wanted the team to do well, he didn’t want Jeremy to shine too much, else he might take over his spot for good. Such thoughts weren’t productive. He needed to focus on the positive, and he needed to start training tomorrow morning. If he got up at six, he could get in a good workout before painting.

He smiled, remembering the furious look on Scarlett’s face when she fell into the paint. She was a spitfire, and he loved that about her. Of course, it could be dang frustrating too. Why couldn’t she see that the two of them were perfect together? Then again, in her defense, he’d been gone for over two years, completely out of the picture. He couldn’t expect to just step back in and have her fall into his arms. Besides, even if Rigby could persuade Scarlett to give him a second chance, he didn’t know what would happen when he went back to Tampa. Would Scarlett be willing to give up this town and her restaurant? And what about her grandfather? She couldn’t leave him. She’d not been able to leave before, why would now be any different? Tampa was a little over seven hours from here. There had to be a way to make things work. Rigby’s football career wouldn’t last forever, but he couldn’t give that up right now. If he played his cards right and kept his nose clean for the next few years, barring an injury, he’d be set for life. Of course, his career was contingent on his performance. Unless he got his head back in the game, he’d be toast. He took in a cleansing breath and let it out slowly. He was jumping ahead to the hypothetical when he couldn’t even get Scarlett to go out with him. One step at a time. Earlier, he’d gotten the feeling there was something he was missing. Scarlett was acting a little off about their past. He’d begged her to go with him to Tampa, but she flat out refused. Why did he keep getting the feeling there was something she wasn’t telling him?

Coralee came outside and stood beside him, assessing the freshly painted siding. “I like it. It’s about time this old place had a new coat of paint.” She gave him a sideways glance, and he saw a certain look in her eye that told him she was up to something.

“What’s going on?” he said carefully.

“You know, I was thinking about that sweet potato pie.”

He chuckled. “What about it?”

A playful grin curved her lips. “Any pie that goes for ten thousand dollars is worth tasting, don’t you think?” Her eyes danced. “Let’s go to The Magnolia and try a slice.”

“I can see the wheels turning in your head,” he countered, wagging a finger.

“I just want a piece of pie. You can’t fault a girl for that.”

A wave of tenderness flooded him. His grandmother was always looking after him. He voiced the question that had been rolling around in his head all morning. “Do you really think I stand a chance with Scarlett?”

She lifted her chin. “Absolutely.”

“You have to say that, you’re my grandmother.”

She gave him a steely look. “It’s because I’m your grandmother that I can say it. No one knows you any better. I know what will make you happy.”

He tipped his head. “And you really think Scarlett’s that girl?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” It hit him—he really did think she was the one for him, but he wanted to hear why his grandmother thought she was. “Why do you think she’s the right one?”

She adjusted her shirt, composing her thoughts as she touched her glasses. “Aside from the fact that she’s beautiful and you’re highly attracted to her …”

Heat crept up Rigby’s neck. Discussing his attraction to Scarlett with his grandmother was more than a little awkward.

Sensing his discomfort, she laughed. “I know I’m an old lady, but I was young and in love once … with your grandfather.”

“Uh, I didn’t mean to be insulting.”

She dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand. “Anyway, back to what I was saying. Scarlett’s got a good head on her shoulders, and she’s grounded.” She winked. “Plus, she’s crazy about you. She’s the kind of girl who can keep your feet pointed in the right direction.”

His grandmother had been vehemently opposed to his marriage to Sadonna and urged him to take more time to get to know her. They were only engaged three short months before they stole away to Vegas to get married. If only Rigby had listened to Coralee instead of charging ahead with the union to blur out the pain of Scarlett’s rejection. He jutted a thumb. “What about Douglas? He hates my guts.”

Her face softened as she smiled. “Oh, Douglas is all prickly on the outside but a cream puff inside.”

He leaned in closer to her. “Are we talking about the same man?”

“Douglas is just looking out for Scarlett. He’ll come around. You’ll see.”

Yeah, he wasn’t too sure about that, but he didn’t want to argue with her. He pumped his eyebrows. “So about that pie …”

Her eyes twinkled. “I’m ready.” She looked him up and down. “But you need a shower.”

“Okay,” he laughed. His grandmother was one of those old-school Southern women who didn’t step foot out of the house, even to go to the grocery store, without being dressed to the nines, every hair in place. “I’m up for pie … but would you mind if we stuck around for a bit afterwards?”

“Sure, but why?”

“Because Harper called and asked if I’d come by to do a photo op to help generate interest for the restaurant.” He couldn’t stop the smile from spilling over his lips. “So, all of your psychology was wasted on me. I was planning on going to the restaurant all along.”

“Ah, I should’ve known.” She brought her hands together. “Okay, chop, chop. Go get a shower. Time’s a wasting.” She glanced toward the house next door. “And while you’re getting ready, I think I’ll just mosey over and see how Douglas is doing this morning.”

He frowned. “I really don’t know what you see in him.”

She laughed. “Like I said, prickly but soft in the center.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” he muttered.