On the Corner of Love and Hate

by Nina Bocci

  “What time is everyone getting here? We seem to be more than a little bit early,” I said as we exited the elevator and headed into the empty courtroom.

  “I’m surprised our mothers aren’t here yet,” he said, standing off to one side. “They think we’re here to surprise-wedding them.”

  I choked, sputtering questions at him rapid-fire. “Surprise-wedding them? What? What do you mean? Why would they think that? Who told them that? Cooper Endicott, this is not a joke. My mother will show up in a dress if she thinks we’re getting married! A not-suitable-for-a-wedding dress because I wasn’t there to help her pick it out.”

  He took my hands in his. “Calm down, calm down, I’m kidding. Though this gave me a great deal of insight into how everyone, including you, will deal with it when I do propose.”

  That statement sent a feverish bloom over my skin. “When?” I gulped.

  “When,” he said matter-of-factly, dropping a kiss on each of my knuckles and paying special attention to the knuckle on the third finger on my left hand.

  I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks, flushing my face in the best possible way. “Well, what if I wanted to propose to you? Not now, of course. It’s only been a couple months—”

  “Not just a couple months. We just wised up a couple months ago. It’s been years,” he countered, smiling down at me.

  “Years?” I responded giddily.

  “Years!”

  “Regardless, my friend, I need to plan such a thing. I’ll have to check my schedule. As chairwoman of the CDO, I’m very busy, you know.”

  Just after the election, the town council voted to promote me to the chair position and give Nancy my old job. Granted, the crux of my day-to-day duties didn’t change much since I had been doing the job for so long, but it was nice to finally have the title that I had wanted for years. If only Mary Nora could see me now.

  Watching me flailing over the proposed proposal, Cooper leaned against the wall, near the judge’s chair.

  With his arms folded across his chest, he smirked. “You’re going to propose? To me? Is this something you’ve been thinking about? Remind me of this later, when we’re in bed, so you can go over the details. I’d like to hear all about it.”

  “You’re laughing now, just wait. We’ve never been traditional, so why have something as prosaic as our proposal be run of the mill? We could mix it up,” I offered, getting more and more used to the idea of my popping the question.

  But how crazy was this? That I was even considering it and, more than that, looking forward to it?

  It would have to wait for after Cooper had served at least a few months in office, though. And after the Jacksons broke ground. And after I finished training Nancy.

  I was up to my eyeballs in work. I had no time for such an event.

  “I’m kidding. I can’t do it because we both know I’d overthink it and mess it up. Besides, I’d have to move things around in my schedule, and I have some very important meetings that I have to keep.”

  Cooper laughed. “You are very busy.”

  “Right?” I asked, tapping my fingers across the desk.

  “In that case,” he said, patting his coat pocket. My eyes widened.

  “Emma.”

  He reached into his jacket and fumbled around. Just as he nearly pulled out whatever was inside, our families burst through the double doors of the courtroom and he pulled his hand away, empty.

  I turned on my heel, glaring at the group. Cooper’s parents, Henry, Nick, and my parents all stopped abruptly. “Go back out there, count to two hundred, and then come back in.”

  “Dude, that’s all it tak—” Nick began, but Henry punched him in the arm.

  “Not the time, man,” he said, earning a few laughs from our parents.

  “It’s okay,” Cooper said, putting his arm around me briefly. Kissing my lips gently, he turned to his father to shake his hand. Thanking him, my father, and his best friends for coming to the swearing-in, he then turned to me just as the judge was walking into the courtroom.

  “What did we interrupt?” my mother asked expectantly. She was practically vibrating.

  “Oh, nothing. I was just about to ask Emma—”

  “Yes?” Clare interrupted breathlessly, earning a laugh from her husband. “What were you going to ask her?”

  Cooper reached inside his jacket pocket again, his hand searching inside for something. “Oh, here it is. I was just going to ask her—”

  I held my breath. My hands were sweating, my heart was racing, and my stomach was churning so much that I was grateful that I hadn’t had time to eat breakfast before we left Cooper’s house. Well, that was mostly because we decided that a quick shower followed by not-so-quick sex was more important than eggs.

  “Yes?” I asked, heart in my throat.

  “—if she’d read my speech. You know, make sure it’s grammatically correct and all.”

  My mouth fell open. To be fair, everyone else’s did, too. Especially once he pulled out the folded sheet of paper.

  Not a ring box.

  He held it up between two fingers and smiled. “What did you think I was going to ask her?” He looked pointedly at his mother, then at mine, then at me. “Emma?”

  Shaking my head, I laughed awkwardly. I wasn’t actually upset, just . . . okay, I guess I was a little upset. I hadn’t thought about any of this until he had mentioned it, and now I was missing something I hadn’t even thought I wanted.

  “Sure,” I said, “I’ll go over it quickly while we wait for the photographer to get here.” I held out my hand.

  He held on to the paper tightly for just a second. “Are you sure you have time in your schedule? I mean—” he teased, finally handing it over.

  I rummaged in my purse for a pen. One thing I had noticed in my years of working with Cooper was that he’d never met a comma he didn’t misuse. If I hadn’t proofed his speeches and reports, everything would have sounded like William Shatner giving a monologue, pausing at every other word.

  I took a seat where defendants normally sat, ignoring the harrumph of the judge and leaving the group behind me chatting away. I didn’t realize that they had gotten eerily quiet until I began clicking and unclicking the pen. Opening the paper, I glanced over when I saw Henry moving toward me, his iPhone raised and recording.

  “What?” I asked, turning to him. Behind him were Nick and all of our parents, the judge, Mrs. Mancini, and a few other people from town. I hadn’t noticed them come in. This was supposed to be a closed swearing-in, and the public was supposed to stay outside until Cooper came out for his speech. What was going on?

  I looked for Cooper, who was kneeling next to my chair. “Ah, you haven’t read it yet. I may have been a bit premature with all the bended-knee stuff,” he said, running a nervous hand through his hair.

  “Cooper?” I asked, my voice quaking. “What are—”

  “Read it,” he said, motioning to the paper in my trembling hand.

  I didn’t have to look. Seeing the nervousness on his face and the happiness on the faces of everyone behind him, I knew what it would say. Sliding my eyes across the page, I couldn’t even finish reading the first sentence before my vision was blurred by happy tears.

  Across the top of the page was the town seal. It was on Cooper’s new letterhead.

  TOWN OF HOPE LAKE OFFICE OF COOPER CAMPBELL-ENDICOTT, MAYOR

  Scribbled beneath it in Cooper’s messy handwriting was the best thing I could have ever read.

  My Emma,

  I’m writing this in the mayor’s office. At the mayor’s desk. Just before I sat in the chair, I crawled underneath the desk. Beneath the desk, colored into the wood, is still a crayon drawing of you and me together.

  It’s always been us.

  It’s because of you that I have this office, so I thought it only right that on my very first day as mayor I use my very first piece of letterhead to ask you the very first question of my time as the mayor of the town we both love. />
  Will You Marry Me?

  PS: Please say yes.

  Yours Always,

  Cooper

  I vaulted myself off the chair and into Cooper’s waiting arms, knocking us both to the ground in the process.

  “So much for not loving public displays of affection,” I mumbled, kissing him with everything I had. The crowd surrounding us cheered and clapped. Even the judge, who was one of the most stoic people in Hope Lake, was smiling.

  “So what are you saying?” he asked between kisses, laughing when I pulled away to accept the ring he was holding. In all my excitement, I hadn’t answered. I’d just dived headfirst without thinking. Or overthinking . . .

  I smiled. This was one thing I would never have to think twice about.

  “I vote yes, Mr. Mayor.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  * * *

  I’m not the best at writing acknowledgments. I’m not sure that anyone is reading this, but, if you are, hi! Thanks for buying On the Corner of Love and Hate. If you borrowed it from your library, you are kick-ass, because libraries are SO important. Thank you for supporting them!

  Still, it’s a bit of a rite (write) of passage for someone, especially a newbie author, to write one.

  With the world in its current chaotic and scary state, I wanted to write a character who believed in goodness and love. And who embraced the need for civil engagement. I’m a firm believer in voting. It’s risky writing a semipolitical book but, overall, I wanted Emma to have a voice.

  Her story was one that I wanted to tell. I hope you enjoyed it. Please vote.

  • • •

  So many people go into making a book. I’m so afraid I will miss someone, so if I do, please don’t get mad.

  To the fine folks at Gallery. You’re the best—truly, I mean that. You’re encouraging, wise, and vigilant, and you all love love. I’m so grateful to Lauren McKenna, Molly Gregory, and Jen Bergstrom for the support.

  To Kimberly Brower, Agent Extraordinaire (seriously, change your business cards to read that), THANK YOU for everything. Honestly, I mean everything.

  Sylvain Reynard, thank you from the bottom of my heart for the friendship and the eyeballs on this book. You’re the best.

  Emmy, as always, thanks for everything. The support, the encouragement, and the love, always.

  PQ, Lolo, and Taco, #CaptainHookersForever.

  To my parents—thank you for being the inspiration for Enrico and Sophia.

  To my family, I thank you for indulging me in the crazy long nights, days, take-out dinners because I’m locked away in the office, and everything else.

  To all of the authors who allowed me to work with them over the past decade, I’m grateful beyond words for your friendship and support, and I look forward to another decade of sharing romance with the world.

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at the next novel in the Hopeless Romantic series

  MEET ME ON

  LOVE

  LANE

  Available from Gallery Books in December 2019

  1

  * * *

  The bus rolled to a stop. A blinking yellow light hung over a pair of rickety train tracks. They looked defunct with the chipped white safety bars remaining at attention on the rusted metal poles. Squinting through the darkness, I spied a large green sign next to the light. It swung back and forth in the May breeze.

  HOPE LAKE

  25 miles

  The sign was barely legible in the dense fog. That’s what happened in valleys like this—the fog would blanket the town until the sun burned it away. Everything settles in Hope Lake. The weather, the people. My mother’s voice echoed in my head. Remember that, Charlotte. Don’t go back—it sucks people in.

  I remembered her words wearily, rolling out my neck. Every inch of me was stiff, cramped from the fabric seat and the stale bus air. It didn’t help that I was wedged against the window thanks to the mountain-sized guy in the seat next to mine. His long legs were stretched out into the darkened aisle, perfectly positioned for tripping an unsuspecting person on their way to the onboard restroom. He was snoring away, oblivious to the fact that he kept half the bus awake with the sound. It only added to my sour mood.

  The ride should have been only a couple bumpy hours by bus to my destination, a sleepy Pennsylvania town in the middle of nowhere. But with weekend traffic, road work, and a dozen drop-off stops that I didn’t realize were a part of the route when I bought the one-way ticket, it had taken almost five and a half hours and it still wasn’t over.

  “I’ll never complain about the subway again,” I groaned, shifting side to side in an effort to jar the lumbering snorer, and my rear end, awake.

  The bus rumbled along in the darkness, eating up the last five miles slowly. The snorer jolted awake when the driver sounded the booming horn as we finally pulled into the tiny bus station in a town called Mount Hazel. I wasn’t back yet, but this was as close as I could swing relying on public transportation this late at night.

  I descended the bus stairs, my purse and carry-on bag slung over my shoulder, and looked around. Everything seemed nice enough, at least in the transition between night and the wee morning hours. A small, clean bus shelter sat near the street, free of graffiti. The rental car place behind it looked freshly painted and well-kept. The only noticeable problem was that it was closed. Wasn’t everything open twenty-four hours like it was in New York? As the last passenger disembarked from the bus and got into an awaiting car, I realized I didn’t have many options to get me those last couple miles into Hope Lake.

  “Ma’am, are you expecting a ride?” the kindly bus driver asked, scratching his well-past-five-o’clock shadow with his meaty hand. “I can wait a bit so you’re not alone with, uh, everything.”

  He peered around me to the semi-pitiful stack of suitcases that I had begged and borrowed from people with the promise of returning them as soon as I could. The ragtag bunch contained most of my worldly possessions. He had removed them from the built-in bus storage and neatly propped them against the side of the small, darkened depot.

  It may not have seemed like a lot when my roommate Parker and I were packing up the necessities, but now, seeing it in two piles with no way of getting it to where I was going, it appeared mountainous.

  I smiled. “I did have a rental car, but clearly that’s not happening.” I waved back to the closed Enterprise booth. “I didn’t realize they weren’t open twenty-four hours, like they are at home.”

  “No, ma’am, not here. Most stuff closes about five or six in the evening.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered. Sign said they closed hours ago,” I admitted, sheepishly checking my watch. It was just after four in the morning.

  He looked at me disbelievingly. “So no one is coming? Are you from Mount Hazel?”

  I shook my head wearily. “I’m headed to Hope Lake.”

  Realization dawned on him. “Is there someone I can call for you? I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

  He yawned, and a nugget of guilt wedged itself in my stomach. This guy didn’t have it any easier than I did with the traffic and delays. He was just as tired, or more. “I’ll figure it out. Thanks, though.”

  The driver looked uncertain. I didn’t know if there was some unwritten code that would prevent him from leaving a passenger alone. “If you’re sure,” he said finally, looking around the empty lot. The side with the rental cars was filled. I wondered which would have been mine.

  “I’m just going to sit tight until the Enterprise people come,” I said, glancing at the hours posted on the glass door. “They should open at eight o’clock, so not too bad.”

  The only thing surrounding me was the sound of crickets, a couple of hooting owls, and a suspicious-looking three-legged cat with a mohawk that was wandering around the parking lot.

  “Maybe you could just call someone for a ride?” he suggested, seemingly unconvinced with my willingness to just sit under the streetlight. “Those fancy app drivers a
re finally around here.”

  “Really, I’m okay,” I insisted, not wanting to add anything else to my nearly-maxed-out credit card. The rental car was prepaid without a refund. “I have a book right here,” I said, pulling out a tattered print copy of The Alchemist that I’d borrowed from the Brooklyn Public Library. A hefty charge would be waiting for me by the time I got to return it. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

  Nodding, he reluctantly walked to the far end of the lot. His black pickup truck sat under a flickering lamppost that was teeming with some sort of large moth.

  I gave him the most reassuring smile I could manage when he tooted the horn and pulled out onto the quiet, deserted road. I didn’t falter in my decision to sit it out—until I heard the damn owl hooting again.

  The outdoors and I were not copacetic. It was warm and sticky, and it wasn’t even summer yet. My skin tingled as I thought about the insects. I wasn’t a Girl Scout. I needed A/C and a glass of wine. Can I make it back to New York before the end of August?

  Clearly, I didn’t think this plan through.

  I swallowed thickly. Do I even have a plan?

  Sort of!

  I pulled out my phone and dialed Parker. She’d be up now, readying for work.

  “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” she mumbled through a yawn.

  “Are you working?” I sunk down onto one of the suitcases.

  “Yep, just slid two cakes into the oven. On track for a banner day.”

  Parker owned a boutique pastry shop called Delicious and Vicious. They sold traditionally flavored cakes with not-so-traditional messages and theming to go along with them. Her business had boomed a couple months back after being featured on the Food Network.

  “I need you to keep me company for the next couple hours,” I explained, curling my legs under me. “A plan would have been smart.”

  “No shit.”

  “Shut up. I just meant that the car rental place is closed.”