Hopeful that The Dating Pool will love it, because winning this could tip me over the edge with my new venture.

“It’s . . .” Stella begins, but doesn’t finish.

“It’s terrible? That’s what you were going to say? Or it’s a brilliant scheme and a terrific chance to nab some extra money if I win. And if I win, I would use it to add a self-defense class to the roster, and that’s precisely what my gym needs.” My words are like froyo spilling out too fast and overflowing from the sample cup.

She laughs sweetly. “I was going to say I think it’s a brilliant scheme and a lovely letter. And I actually think I get it now.”

My brow knits. “Get what?”

“You and Oliver. Your connection. I think I understand it in a whole new way.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do. I kind of get why you’re not interested in testing my theory. I understand now why you always say nothing will happen.”

“Thank you,” I say, warmth and happiness bubbling up in me. “It’s so easy to think because we’re good friends that a romance is inevitable. But that’s not in the cards.”

“Yeah, I see that now,” she says, sounding introspective. “I guess it’s human nature to want to ship two pretty people who spend so much time together.”

“And now you understand why there is no Sumiver Ship or Olimer Ship.”

“More proof you’re right. Your names are horribly un-shippable.”

“There you go.” I smile, thanking her, then hit submit.

Even though, I suppose, a small part of me still wonders about the accuracy of her theories.

But just a small part, I swear.

11SUMMER

On Monday, I watch as Loan Officer Electra nods thoughtfully, takes a beat, then smiles. “You present a very compelling argument. And honestly, I’m counting the days till your gym opens.”

Must not crawl across the desk and tackle-hug the world’s coolest loan officer.

Instead, I sit ramrod straight on the edge of the leather seat, beaming. “I’m so glad you feel that way. I’ve lined up my final teachers too, to make the classes amazing. Seniors have different needs than other age groups and want a gym where they feel comfortable and welcome. Providing that can increase health in the golden years. I found a Zumba teacher who specializes in catering to seniors. I have a spin-class instructor who’s the best in the biz. I even found someone to teach kickboxing to older adults.”

I’m giddy, but professionally giddy. That’s a thing. “This is going to be so good for health and fitness and longevity. In time, we can reduce medical costs and reduce insurance needs. It’s going to be great,” I say, unable to stop giving my pitch to her on why fitness for life matters.

But the curly-haired woman with the hawklike nose seems to need little convincing. “I know! I can’t wait to sign up my dad. He is going to love it. He’s jonesing to do kickboxing.”

Just like Stella’s grandpa. Yes! This gym is filling an unserved need. And I am going to call my instructors the second the ink dries. They are going to flip.

“Thank you, Electra. I’m glad you feel that way. I can’t wait to let my instructors know it’s a go,” I say, nerves winging through my body as I adjust the pencil skirt that feels like a costume, since I don’t usually wear navy skirts and silk blouses.

Except when begging for money.

But that ends today.

Humming, Electra drums her fingers on her oak desk, flashing a cheery smile in my direction. “They are going to be ecstatic. And we simply can’t wait to hear how it goes.”

I blink. What? She can’t wait to hear how it goes? “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do keep in touch. And best of luck, Summer.”

Ohhhhhhhhhh.

My shoulders slide toward the floor in the slumpiest slump of all time. “You’re not granting the loan?” I ask in a dead tone.

She shakes her head, still grinning, which seems kind of cruel. “No, but you’re one of our most regular and valuable customers, and we so appreciate you saving all that money with us.”

“But I need more.” My voice cracks, and I swallow that awful splintering sound. Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe she’s just messing around. “I’ve been a good customer for ten years, and now I need a loan to make this gym the best it can be. To be competitive.”

Electra pumps a fist. “And we are fired up to see how it goes with all that you have saved here. You go get ’em, girl.”

Girl.

She just you go, girled me.

She hasn’t even uttered any of the warning words that come before crushing your hopes and dreams. Words like however, but, with that said, or unfortunately.

She’s turned me down with pep and vigor.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“The risk is just too great.”

With a deep sigh, I gather my purse, say a wooden thanks, and leave.

A deep sadness cloaks me as I walk across the stone floor of the bank toward the ominous exit.

Maybe I didn’t present a compelling enough pitch. Maybe I asked for too much. Maybe I asked for too little. But I need that extra money. Need it to get me over the hump. Need it to show I can do this on my own.

All I’ve ever wanted is to do this on my own.

And now I don’t have enough to open the doors.

Now I’ll have to table my dreams for months while I save up the rest.

As I trudge to the street, my phone rings—my mom is calling. I answer it half-heartedly, wishing I could muster my normal pep.

“Hi, Mom,” I say, trying to sound cheery, trying to focus on her. “How’s everything going with you? Is it Book Club Monday? Do you have everyone hooked on the newest Nora Roberts?”

“Of course I do. I’m a master at picking books. I should be running book clubs all over town. But that’s not why I’m calling. How did it go?” She sounds like she’s been holding her breath with anticipation.

“Oh, you know. It went . . .” But I can’t even spin a tale. “They turned me down.” My throat catches.

“Sweetie, let us help you.”