Page 49 of Keepsakes and Kismet

I shoot up from my chair. “Oh my God! Are you serious? I’d love to see you.”

It’s been a while. Tessa’s entire family lives a little over two hours south of me in Columbus, including her famous brother—a retired wide receiver for the New York Mustangs.

“I’m so happy!” I glance at the calendar on my desk. “We have the Waterton Harvest Festival the second week of November if you want to time your visit for then. I went last year, and it’s really fun. Lots of autumnal activities.”

“That sounds perfect. Daniel and his wife—Grace, the vet, remember her? They love that shit. I know they want to monopolize all our time while we’re visiting, so maybe I’ll bring them with, if that’s okay? We’ll probably make a day trip out of it.”

I swing my legs back and forth, giving my excited energy an outlet. “The more the merrier. I’m looking forward to seeing them again.”

“And I’m looking forward to meeting your health inspector.”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach, thinking of introducing Callum to Tessa. She’s the closest thing I have to family right now. I don’t need her approval, but it’d mean a lot, especially after everything I’ve been through.

“Shit!” I hear a loud beep, more muffled swearing from Tessa, and a noisy clatter, followed by scratching, like the phone is skidding across concrete.

Things suddenly get quieter. Only the sound of Tessa’s heavy breathing travels through the speaker.

“Are you okay? Did you drop your phone again?” I ask.

“My heel got stuck in a sewer grate. The phone wasn’t the only thing I dropped. Gio’s cappuccino is bleeding out on the sidewalk right now.”

I stifle a laugh. “Sorry, girl. Maybe I should let you go, so you can get a new one.”

“It’s too late now. It’ll be past eleven by the time I get to Gio’s shop.” Her tone sounds comically dark.

I nod grimly. “Italians and their espresso rules.”

“Agh, and my tights are ripped now.” Tessa groans.

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, I say, “If only we knew a talented tailor who could mend them…”

She laughs. “Good one. I better go before my phone gets a restraining order against me.”

“Okay, see you soon. Love you, Tess.”

“Love you, too!”

As soon as I hang up the phone, Romy stomps in, her combat boots thudding against the wood floor. “Dropped the business license renewal form off at City Hall. There was one person ahead of me, so naturally, it took an hour.”

I press my lips together, trying to avoid laughing at her expense. “How’s Betty doing these days? Is she⁠—”

“Still asking everyone for one piece of town gossip in exchange for notary services like some sort of tabloid bridge troll?” Romy throws her hands up in the air. “Yes. Yes, she is.”

“I’m s-sorry,” I stammer, in between muffled laughs. “That sounds awful.”

Roguery tints her expression. “You know, Peyton, maybe you should go next time. Tell her all about Cal. Speaking of, how was the golf tournament?”

I shift in my seat. “Um, we had a little hiccup of sorts halfway through the gig—nothing to worry about—but it ended on a good note. We charmed the pearl necklaces off some trust fund babies and secured six new members for the club.”

Romy’s eyebrows almost hit her hairline. “Wow. I was not expecting it to go so smoothly. Cal must’ve put in some serious effort.”

I sink deeper in my chair, partially hiding behind my monitor. “He definitely did. He made actual jokes, shook hands, and acted like the perfect gentlemen.”

But it wasn’t an act. Callum was a perfect gentleman. After everything happened, he drove us back to the clubhouse and completely took the reins, giving me the space to become background noise while I sorted myself out. Thankfully, Paul was in the cigar room when we returned.

Romy sits down and jiggles her mouse to wake her computer. “Well, I’m really happy it went well. And that the couple thing wasn’t so bad.”

Understatement of the century. The “couple thing” was addicting. And outside the clubhouse, when I begged Callum to let me pay him for the day, he just shook his head, saying, “A real boyfriend wouldn’t accept money, Peyton. He’d feel like he won the lottery just by spending time with you.”