Page 37 of Brewing Up My Fresh Start (Twin Waves #2)

EIGHTEEN

GRAYSON

T he call comes at night, hours after I drop Michelle off with a kiss that tastes like promises and forever. I’m lying in bed replaying the way she looked in my shirt, the way she laughed during dessert, the way she said yes to being my girlfriend.

“Grayson? It’s Scott. We have a problem.”

I sit up, instantly alert. “What kind of problem?”

“The kind that involves your girlfriend’s ex-fiancé calling me twenty minutes ago, asking detailed questions about our Twin Waves project and specifically about Michelle Lawson’s involvement in our community outreach.”

Every muscle in my body goes cold. “David Norris called you?”

“David Norris, founder of Norris Coffee Enterprises. Says he’s expanding to coastal North Carolina and heard through industry contacts that we’ve developed an innovative approach to community partnerships.

” Scott’s voice carries an edge I’ve never heard before.

“Grayson, this man knows details we haven’t made public. ”

I’m out of bed, pacing. “What kind of details?”

“Grant applications. Historic preservation strategies. Community development models. He mentioned collaborative frameworks and sustainable tourism integration—terminology that’s only in our internal documents and the research Michelle’s been sharing with us.”

The research Michelle shared with me. The trust she placed in our partnership after protecting herself from exactly this kind of vulnerability. The innovative solutions we developed together that could now be weaponized against everything she’s built.

“Did he say why he was calling you instead of contacting Michelle directly?”

“He said he preferred to discuss expansion opportunities with development partners before approaching local business owners about potential collaboration.” Scott pauses, and papers rustle. “Translation: he wants to steal our model and undercut both of us before we can establish market presence.”

My chest tightens with panic mixed with rage. “Scott, this man destroyed Michelle’s first business. Stole her recipes, her business plan, her financial backing. She hasn’t trusted anyone romantically because of what he did.”

“Which makes his sudden interest in our project particularly concerning. Grayson, if he’s targeting Twin Waves because of Michelle’s involvement, we need to consider the implications for our timeline and investor relationships.”

Investor relationships. Professional concerns that should be secondary to protecting the woman I’m falling in love with, but suddenly feel dangerous.

“What kind of implications?”

“The kind where a well-funded competitor uses insider information to launch a parallel project, steal our community partnerships, and potentially sabotage our development before we can establish ourselves.” Scott’s voice turns grimmer.

“Norris Coffee Enterprises has deep pockets and a track record of aggressive expansion tactics.”

I stop pacing, the full horror of the situation crashing over me. By working with Michelle, by encouraging her to share her research, by building professional intimacy alongside personal connection, I’ve potentially given David Norris exactly what he needs to destroy her all over again.

And if he succeeds, I’ll have become the reason she gets betrayed twice.

“There’s more,” Scott continues. “I did some quick research after his call. Norris’ expansion model involves identifying successful local businesses, studying their operations, then moving into the same markets with superior funding and corporate efficiency.”

“You think he’s planning to target Michelle specifically.”

“I think he’s planning to target our entire project, and Michelle’s involvement makes her the obvious vulnerability. If he can replicate her community development approach with better resources...” Scott trails off, but I understand the implication.

Michelle loses everything. Again. Because she trusted me.

“The investors are already nervous about timeline delays and community opposition,” Scott says carefully. “If Norris creates additional competition or regulatory complications, we could lose backing entirely.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting we need to protect our interests. Which might mean reducing Michelle’s visible involvement in the project until we can establish stronger legal and financial protections.”

Reducing Michelle’s involvement. Cutting her out of the collaboration we’ve built together, the partnership that’s become the foundation for everything meaningful in my professional and personal life.

“You want me to push her away to protect the project.”

“I want us to make smart business decisions that don’t expose either of you to unnecessary risk. If Norris is hunting for vulnerabilities, Michelle’s current role makes her a target.”

The logic is sound and completely devastating. Protecting Michelle means ending our professional partnership. Protecting our development means sacrificing the collaboration that made it worth pursuing in the first place.

“I need to think about this.”

“Don’t think too long. Norris mentioned he’s planning a site visit to Twin Waves next week to assess local market conditions.” Scott’s voice softens slightly. “Grayson, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but sometimes protecting a loved one means making choices they won’t understand.”

After hanging up, I stare at the ceiling for hours, running calculations that all lead to the same devastating conclusion: loving Michelle might mean losing her to keep her safe.

By morning, I’ve made the decision that will either save my relationship or destroy it completely.

M e: Can we meet at your place before you open? Need to discuss project timeline changes.

Her response comes immediately: Of course. Coffee’s already brewing.

The walk to her apartment feels like a death march. Every step takes me closer to potentially ending the best thing that’s ever happened to me for the sake of protecting it.

Michelle opens the door wearing yoga pants and my t-shirt from last night, and the sight of her in my clothes nearly destroys my resolve entirely.

Her hair is sleep-messed and she’s holding two mugs of coffee, and she looks so trusting and happy to see me that I almost turn around and walk away rather than do what I’m about to do.

“Morning,” she says, standing on her toes to kiss me, and the casual intimacy of the gesture makes my chest ache. “What timeline changes? Did the investors want to accelerate the construction schedule?”

“Something along those lines.” I accept the coffee but don’t drink it, can’t trust my hands not to shake. “Michelle, we need to talk about your involvement in the development project.”

Her expression shifts from sleepy contentment to alert concern. “What kind of involvement discussion?”

“The kind where I need to be honest about the professional risks of mixing business with personal relationships.”

She sets down her mug with careful control, and her emotional walls start rebuilding in real time. “Professional risks.”

“Working together on grant applications and community outreach has been incredible, but it’s created complications I didn’t anticipate.”

“What kind of complications?”

I should tell her about David. I should explain the threat and let her make her own decisions about how to handle her predatory ex-fiancé. But telling her means admitting that trusting me has made her vulnerable again, and I can’t stomach being another source of betrayal in her life.

“The kind where investors get nervous about developers who appear to be making decisions based on personal relationships rather than sound business principles.”

Her face goes very still. “Sound business principles.”

“Michelle, you have to understand—this project affects dozens of jobs, millions in economic development, the financial future of everyone invested in Twin Waves’ growth. I can’t let personal feelings compromise professional obligations.”

“Personal feelings.” She repeats my words like she’s testing them for poison. “Is that what our collaboration has been to you? Personal feelings compromising professional judgment?”

“That’s not what I meant?—”

“Then what did you mean, Grayson?” Her voice carries controlled fury that’s more dangerous than shouting. “Because it sounds like you’re saying our partnership is a liability that needs to be managed.”

“I’m saying that mixing business with romance creates vulnerabilities that could hurt both of us.”

“Vulnerabilities.” She laughs, but the sound carries no humor. “You mean the kind where you trust someone with your research? Where you share innovative solutions with a development partner who might use them against you?”

The parallel to David Norris is so exact it makes my skin crawl. “Michelle, that’s not?—”

“Isn’t it?” She stands up, pacing away from me with sharp, angry movements. “Tell me, Grayson, what changed between last night when you called me your girlfriend and this morning when I became a professional liability?”

Heat climbs the back of my neck; the room shrinks a few degrees. The answer I can’t give sits heavy on my tongue.

I can’t tell her about Norris without revealing that I’ve potentially exposed her to exactly the kind of betrayal she’s been protecting herself from. Can’t admit that our beautiful collaboration might have painted a target on everything she’s built.

“Nothing changed. I’m trying to protect what we’ve built together.” The word protect scrapes on the way out. Shoulders tight. Breath going shallow. Damp palms.

“By ending what we’ve built together?”

“By being realistic about what sustainable partnership looks like when significant financial interests are involved.”

She stares at me as if I’ve revealed something fundamentally disappointing about my character. “Sustainable partnership. Financial interests. Grayson, do you even hear yourself right now?”

My jaw locks. The contractor in me wants to square everything plumb; the man in me wants to beg.