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“I guess, if you’re into obvious beauty and all that,” I say, busying myself with refilling the napkins even though the napkin holder is already overflowing. I’m sure if I stuff them in there real good, there’s room for a couple more.

Layla gives me a horrified look. “What are you doing to those poor napkins?”

Thank goodness she doesn’t expect a reply as a group of teens run toward our cart. For the next fifteen minutes, we’re making hot dogs and passing around condiments. Sweat drips down my back thanks to an unfortunate combination of hot weather, a costume that doesn’t have room for air circulation, and physical work, but at least it beats watching Colton charm everyone and their grandmother.

At eleven, I’m praying for lunch to roll around so I can splash water in my face and a few other places where too much sweat has gathered.

It’s then that I step straight into a nightmare. Colton and Sarah have ended their first shift, and he walks in our direction. There’s nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. What do I do?

He stops in front of our cart and tries to get my attention, but I refuse to give in.

“Hi, Layla. Hi, Elle,” he says, making it impossible for me to ignore him.

Darn it. His voice makes my heart jump out of my chest. Has it always sounded this sexy? Probably.

“Hmm,” I mumble.

“Could I get a hot dog with extra ketchup?” he asks.

Layla puts a hot dog between a sliced bun. I don’t move, even though serving the ketchup is my job. She elbows me in the side. It’s hardly noticeable through all these layers of fabric, but I can still feel it. “Uhm, Elle? Could you get the ketchup?”

I finally take the hot dog from her. “You wanted extra, right?” I ask Colton.

“Lots. Thanks,” he says.

His blue eyes meet mine, and my breath catches in my throat. For some reason, it makes me furious. I grab the bottle of ketchup and keep squirting until Layla shrieks and tells me to stop. My hands are dripping with red sauce, but I don’t care. It’s not as if I can look worse than I already do in this stupid costume.

Ugh. Rage is building up inside of me, and if I don’t get away from the gorgeous jerk that is Colton Wilson, I’ll explode.

“I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t realize I was pushing it too far. If I’m not mistaken, you’re an expert at that feeling.”

“Elle, we need to talk. There’s so much I want to tell you. Please hear me out.”

“I’m done talking to you.” I throw the hot dog on the counter and run away.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Colton

Things are even worse than I thought. Elle hates me. Why else would she throw a hot dog at me? Well, not at me, but still… She marched away in the most furious state I’ve ever witnessed.

I know I was a fool for not telling her about putting in an offer on that stupid house in Vermont. And then I had to be so stupid as to say I don’t know when she asked me if I was going to buy the house, and whether or not we have a future together. I don’t want to move away at all! Not anymore. What I want is to be with her, right here in Summerville Creek, but she doesn’t want to talk to me.

“What was that all about?” Layla asked. She’s looking even more perplexed than I am. “She told me you two had a fight about household chores, but how bad can it be? Did you ruin her favorite clothes by putting them in the dryer or something?”

“Or something,” I say.

I tell Layla goodbye, grab my hot dog, and head off. It’s time for a last attempt to win Elle back. I realize it’s not going to be easy, but I have to at least try. If I let her go without a fight, I’ll never forgive myself. Before I can attend to that, I have another thing to do, though.

I walk through the staff corridors until I arrive at Frank’s office.

“Do you have a minute?” I ask, already closing the door behind me.

“For you? Always. Have a seat.”

I pull back one of the chairs facing his desk and sit down. “I’ve decided not to move.”

His face lights up at those words. “Straight to the point, I like it. What made you change your mind?”