Page 27 of Mom Com

Me: All is forgiven. Besides... you had me at classy lady cocktail.

Liv: Fuck yeah! I’m calling you a car. And don’t bother resisting. I owe you for not driving you home the other night.

I’m off the couch in a second, freshening up and telling Mom I’m headed out, weirdly enthused to be doing something that isn’t bakery related or an uncomfortable Haverberry social event.

My mother of course looks a little too pleased when she hears my plans are with Liv, but doesn’t say anything except that she’ll put Spence to bed if he gets home before me. For just a second, a bit of the heaviness lifts, like someone opened a window to let in the fresh air. And while I’m not deluded enough to think it’ll last, I also plan on enjoying the lack of conflict for this brief moment.

* * *

I pull the heavy wooden door open to The Corner Bar—an old-school bistro filled with dark wood and a single chandelier located on the periphery of the square. It was always a popular spot for the forty-plus crowd to grab a glass of wine and an overly expensive burger. Loud enough to not have people listening in on your conversation, but quiet enough that you don’t have to raise your voice to have a conversation.

Liv sits at the bar, shiny dark hair in a high ponytail, wearing a black blazer with a hot pink blouse underneath, black skintight jeans, and high heels that give me vertigo just looking at them.

She slides off her barstool to kiss me on the cheek. “Damn it’s good to see you. You had me sweating there for a second. I thought you were going to tell me to go fuck myself, not that you would have been out of line for holding a grudge,” she says with a smile.

I slide onto the empty barstool next to her with a shrug, my feet lifting off the ground and balancing on the rung. I smile, too. “Don’t flatter yourself; that wasn’t nearly grudge-worthy.”

“Wow, tell it like it is Mads,” she says and laughs. “You wound me.”

“Like I believe that for a second. Aren’t you the one who told me you had a heart made of ice?”

“Fuck, you’re right. That is me. But like, way to blow my cover.”

She waves down the bartender, ordering two fig-infused whiskey drinks. And as I watch him prepare them in his shaker, I realize the ingredients are just alcohol upon alcohol—basically the elegant adult version of a Long Island Iced Tea.

The bartender sets them down in front of us and despite my skepticism, I actually sayMmmmas I sip it. “Okay, you were right. These things are dangerously good.”

“Let it be known that I always deliver on my promises.” Liv takes a generous sip herself. “Now, apologies... but since I screwed myself the other night by not being forthcoming, I’m just going to bring up the behemoth in the room and ask you what the hell is going on with this inheritance rumor I keep hearing about?”

My good mood deflates, and I lean into my cocktail for support. It’s only been a handful of days and already everyone knows—not that Liv is everyone, but still. “Honestly? I wish I knew.”

“So this thing is real? Your dad actually left the bakery to you andmy brother? Did you know anything about this or—”

The look I give her stops her short.

“Got it. Blindsided. Wow,” she says, knocking her glass against mine like even she needs a drink from the stress of it. “So, you just show up here and bam, your mom tells you that you have to share your inheritance? You must have shit yourself.”

“Yup,” I say, taking a swig. “And you know my mom. She says exactly what she wants and nothing more. I’ve basically gotten no information out of her besides a heavy guilt trip about gratitude. Plus, we’ve been fighting, which doesn’t help with the question asking.”

“Ooph. Any idea why your dad set it up that way?”

“None whatsoever,” I admit. “But that addendum was like a bear trap. Apparently, if Wilder and I don’t work at the bakery full-time for the next year, we lose our stake.”

“No shit.”

I nod and the motion feels a little like being underwater. I look at my half-drained glass accusingly. “You wanna hear shitty? I got caught off guard in my Grinch onesie the morning after I yelled at Wilder at the banquet.”

Liv chuckles. “Sorry, that’s not funny, but it is kind of amazing. And I want to bet that in comparison, my brother looked like he just came from visiting the queen.” She laughs again, and despite my horror over the whole thing, I find myself laughing, too.

“You should have seen my mom’s face when she realized I wasn’t going to change out of my neon green.”

Liv touches my arm. “Please promise me you’ll wear it to my parents’ Christmas Eve party this year. I feel like I missed out on something really special.”

We both grin like idiots.

“You know, Liv, you’re really easy to talk to. I forgot that about you,” I say, mildly aware that it isn’t something I would normally say out loud.

“And you, my friend, are the breath of fresh air Haverberry desperately needed.Iforgot how much this town sucks without you. No wonder my brother is all in a twist.”