“Take a deep breath, Blaire. I get that you’re upset, and all of these individual things together might seem bad, but until you’ve had a conversation with him you really can’t know for sure, can you? And honestly, this is nothing like the food truck business, which is literally insane.”

“Doesn’t it seem like a pretty big coincidence that he’s suddenly impossible to get ahold of right after he wins the award and we have this huge event we’re trying to pull off so our businesses don’t end up in the shitter?”

“Yes, I agree that it does, but I also don’t want you to go off half-cocked and blow up this relationship without having the whole story.”

She has a point. “I just don’t want my shop to fail. I can’t afford for it to fail because if it does it means my dream is dead.”

“Let’s not borrow trouble. You have a weekend of awesomeness planned, and we’ve done everything we can to promote it. Have some faith in yourself and your ability to make this a success, regardless of whether Ronan pulls through for you.”

“I’m supposed to have a partner in this.” And maybe that’s the biggest kick in the pants for me. Because that’s what this felt like, a partnership. A real one on all levels. So it hurts more than I’d like that the man who I thought was with me on this whole thing was only here for as long as I was useful and necessary, sort of like how Raphael used me to get closer to my family. In the end, my parents cared more about his skill set than my broken heart. I thought I’d been smarter this time. I thought I knew better.

“I’m your partner right now. You don’t need Ronan to make this a success. He’s great arm candy and I’m sure he’s a rock star in bed, but he isn’t essential to pulling this off. You’ve been the one to set up all the cohosted events. You made those a success.”

“Well, they weren’t successful enough.”

“So what if you had one bad comedy act? So what if you didn’t win the Best Bar title? Put that aside and focus on the here and now. You have the respect of your peers. They’ve come to you with every question, so remember that when you’re getting down on yourself or thinking you’re not enough. And honestly, if Ronan did just use you for a ride I’ll happily kick him in the balls for you.”

“While wearing steel-toed boots.”

“Yes. Or cleats. Then he could be textured for your pleasure.”

“That is not a pleasant visual.”

Someone knocks on the door timidly and Daphne opens it up. “What’s up, Callie?”

“Um, I’m really sorry to interrupt.” She wrings her hands nervously. “But the McClellands are here and they have an order for pickup, but I can’t find it in the stack.”

“I’ll take care of it. I didn’t put it out front because it has a custard filling and needs to be refrigerated. Tell them I’ll be right out,” I say, much more gently than I have all day.

I push Ronan’s absence to the back of my mind. I can’t afford to fixate, and Daphne is right: I’m scaring Callie when I should be building excitement for the weekend.

I retrieve the McClelland order and reset my attitude. It helps put everyone else at ease, and we’re all in a far more positive mood by the end of the day.

I send Callie home an hour early and post a sign that our hours will be modified for the weekend so we can stick around for all of the festivities.

The specials have already been added to the board, tomorrow’s cupcakes are decorated and in the fridge, and we’re well stocked with drinks and everything we could possibly need to make Love Is in the Air a success.

I pull up my Instagram account to check interaction, and the first thing that pops up on my feed is a post from Tori Taylor, which isn’t all that surprising. But the fact that it’s a picture of her and Ronan sitting in a cozy-looking bar that isn’t The Knight Cap sure is not what I expect to see. And it was posted half an hour ago. So much for running errands and helping prep for the event. I’m tempted to comment on the post, but I decide it’s not in my best interest to be petty where Tori is concerned.

I pop over to The Knight Cap before I head home, not because I’m looking for Ronan at this point since clearly he’s too busy making plans with Tori to be bothered with the event, but because I want to touch base with the bar staff and make sure they don’t have any questions.

Lars is tending bar along with Corbin, who was hired last week and seems to be a great addition to their team. He’s got the whole surfer dude look going on, long blond hair, tanned, and always calling everyone “bro” and “sweetheart.” The women eat it up.

Lars cringes when he sees me approach. I hold up a hand, feeling even worse based on his response to my presence. “I’m not looking for Ronan. I just want to make sure you’re all set for tomorrow.”

He blinks at me a couple of times but says nothing.

“Do you need any clarification on anything?” I ask.

“Uhhhh…I don’t think so. I’m supposed to be here at nine thirty to help prep the bar and the doors open at eleven. I’ll be serving drinks all day and managing whatever else needs to happen to make things go smoothly.”

“What about the rest of your crew?”

“I think we’re all good. We got your to-do list, and Lana is huge on the decorating shit.” He motions to the heart garland strung all over the bar interspersed with lei-wearing cupids. The hearts are red and black plaid, to match the rest of the décor. “So I think we’re okay unless something major happens tomorrow.”

“Okay, great. Text me if you need anything or if there’s something you’re unsure of.”

“Will do.” A couple of college girls approach the bar.

“I’ll let you get back to it.”

As I turn to leave, Lars calls out, “Blaire.”

I pause and give him a questioning smile.

“Try not to think the worst.”

I nod, and he turns back to the girls.

It’s easier said than done, though. I give in and send Ronan a message before I go to bed. I don’t anticipate sleeping well, or much at all, but I figure it’s worth a shot. It’s well past midnight before I fall into a restless, fitful sleep. And still nothing from Ronan.