Stuck with a Billionaire

The sun peeked over the horizon, splashing Willow Bay with vibrant hues of pink and gold. It’s always been said that dawn is the universe telling you to grab a fresh start. Today, it felt especially true. Standing outside my shop, Willow Whims Café, the name inspired by one whimsical walk along our beautiful coastline, I felt a giddy rush of excitement. The annual Willow Waves Summer Festival was only a day away. The anticipation of the familiar festival scents of fresh berry pies, cinnamon rolls, and the deep aroma of coffee brewing gave me a heady mix of nostalgia and excitement.

The town centre was already filled with old wooden tables adorned with sunflowers that looked straight out of a postcard. Each festival was like stepping back into a picture book of memories. The music, the laughter, the taste of sweet cotton candy… I couldn’t wait. I shook my head, driving away that fleeting thought. This year would be magical; I was sure of it. As I set up for the morning rush, the soft chitter-chatter of the town’s early birds reached my ears. Mrs. Peters, our librarian who knew more secrets than the books she lent, was deep in conversation with Mrs. Sullivan, who probably knew the rest.