Totally and Completely Fine(49)

The grin on Gabe’s face indicated that he’d been hoping for that as well. In fact, that might have been the plan all along.

“Chani too?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said, adding chocolate chips to the mixing bowl.

I’d decided to play around with the recipe today. Spencer had always said there was no need to improve on perfection, but I liked experimenting. And tonight I had three more guinea pigs to feed in addition to the one I lived with.

“Thank you,” Ollie said.

“You’re welcome,” I said, before turning back to my brother. “How did you even know I was making brownies?”

Gabe swiped another finger of batter and neatly avoided my attempt to swat him with my dish towel.

“You’re always baking something,” he said.

I rolled my eyes as they disappeared into the dining room.

As soon as the brownies were in the oven, I started on dinner. I’d been planning on making a casserole anyway, so there would be plenty of food, but I also doubled the amount I usually made for salad and took some frozen rolls out to thaw.

All the while I kept replaying the disastrous interaction I’d had with Ben the day before. My stomach felt sour just thinking about how unkind I’d been. How much I wished I could take back my words.

But a part of me knew it was for the best. Considering how I’d jumped him the first moment we’d been alone, being an absolute asshole was probably the best way to keep it from happening again. The last thing I needed was a too-young, too-charming, too-gorgeous man tempting me with his smile and those damn eyes of his. And the last thing he needed was a skittish, scared widow with an unhealthy organizational coping mechanism.

Whatever had happened between us in Philadelphia was going to stay in Philadelphia. And in the alley of the restaurant.

The brownies were barely out of the oven when Gabe poked his head back into the kitchen.

“They’re too hot,” I said as he eyed dessert.

“No such thing,” he said, coming toward them.

“You’re going to have to wait,” I said, trying to push him away.

He resisted and put his arm around my shoulders.

“Lauren, my wonderful, sweet, caring, perfect sister.”

I gave him a look.

“What do you want?” I asked. “I already gave you use of my table.”

“It’s just a tiny favor,” he said.

“Plus brownies and a homemade dinner.”

“Please, please, please,” he said.

I sucked in a breath. “What is it?”

“Come with me,” he said.

I allowed him to steer me into my own dining room, which was now an absolute mess—papers completely covering the surface of the table.

“You’re going to have to clean this up before we eat,” I said.

Jesus. When had I started sounding like such a nag?

“Is this what it’s going to look like?”

I was looking at a rendering of the inside of the theatre—brand-new seats, a refurbished stage, all while keeping the old-fashioned feel of the place. I still didn’t really understand why Gabe had decided to buy a run-down theatre in Cooper, but from the looks of my dining room, he and Ollie had big ideas.

“That’s what we’re hoping,” Ollie said. “There’s still a lot to do, but it should be done in time for the opening.”

“Chani’s already reached out to her contacts,” Gabe said. “I think we’ll get a lot of press.”

I’d only heard bits and pieces about their plans for the theatre.

“I’m pretty sure that both your names and Ben’s will be enough of a draw,” I said. “You could probably leave the theatre as it is and still sell out.”

“For the first show, sure,” Ollie said. “But we’re thinking long-term.”

That was the part I wasn’t exactly clear on. What were they expecting long-term?

“Do you have an idea for the next show?” I asked.

Gabe and Ollie looked at each other.

“Not exactly,” Gabe said. “We’re working on it.”

That didn’t sound like a particularly solid business plan.

Then again, it wasn’t as if I was a genius at running the Cozy. It just happened to be the closest bookstore in a fifty-mile radius, so we did pretty well. Not great, but good enough. And we also had a wealthy sponsor to keep us in the black during slow months. Which we’d had quite a few of in the early days of the shop. If we hadn’t had Gabe’s financing, we probably would have closed after the first year.

But his money and privilege afforded us a second chance and we’d used it to figure out how to make the most of our local patrons while also building a decent online following. At least my mom had. She was the driving force behind any of the Cozy’s success. She was devoted. Focused. I loved the store, but it never felt like mine, even with its crafts section.

The store had been kept afloat by our good fortunes. By Gabe’s good fortunes.

It seemed likely, between his and Ollie’s finances, they’d probably be able to do something similar with the theatre.

Though I was sure that wasn’t the goal.

“We want to offer the space to the local high schools,” Gabe said. “The theatre program is lousy here and they just have a worn-down auditorium to use.”