“In here,” Thessaly responds while addressing an envelope.

Shelby pushes open the door carrying a caddy of Dunkin Donuts coffee and a box of donuts. “Strawberry frosted with sprinkles,” he ploys.

“Ugh, their iced coffee is watery.”

Removing a large iced vanilla latte from the cardboard caddy, Shelby suggests, “Chase it with a glazed donut.”

Thessaly leans against the work station and sighs. She gouges the plastic cup with an orange straw and groans.

Talking with his mouth full, he asks, “What’s up, sis?”

“Mason asked me to marry him. And move to London.” Taking a sip from her coffee, Thessaly adds, “Or maybe it was move to London and hypothetically get married.”

“Weren’t you engaged once before?”

“He’s never really proposed, or maybe I never really answered – God, I’m so confused.”

“So he asked you to move to New York with him, and now he wants you to move to London, but you’re not together?” Shoving the rest of his donut in his mouth, Shelby adds, “Seems like he just wants a moving buddy.”

Thessaly stomps her foot and laughs. “Holy shit! Mason’s such a pussy!”

“I could’ve told you that,” Shelby drawls.

“He needs me, but once he’s settled, he doesn’t want me. I’m like his, his . . .”

“His blankie,” interjects Shelby.

Thessaly nods while her eyes expand in horror. “Oh, my God – Mason had this torn flannel blanket at Duke. He’d sleep with it every night, and I mean every night. He’d also wear it like a cape when he was sick. One time, I tossed it in the hamper to take to the laundry room, and he went ballistic!” Tilting her head and frowning, she mumbles, “I’m his flannel blanket.”

“Nah, you’re just really sweet.”

Reaching for a strawberry donut, Thessaly exhales and lowers her head. “I don’t want to move to London. I want Levi.”

“Then buy some,” Shelby replies as he leaves the kitchen. “These boxes won’t unpack themselves, TayTay.”

Laughing, Thessaly grabs her coffee and follows him into the shop. “I really like the square jars, don’t you?”

“Amazing. Sometimes, when I’m sitting in my neurology clerkship discussing brain anomalies, I’m actually daydreaming about square jars.” Shelby positions the containers of raw honey on the island and whistles along to the music blasting through the speakers.

“Shelby?”

Crouching down near the stack of boxes and removing his box cutter, Shelby says, “Yeah?”

“I love you,” Thessaly proclaims.

“You should.”

While Shelby and Thessaly organize the inventory and argue over the best television spinoffs, Seth and Meg waltz into the store holding hands.

“Did you hear from Lois?” Meg asks, ripping her hand away from Seth.

Smiling at her friends, she replies, “I did. Christina is going to be fine. Although, they’re moving to Florida.”

Seth picks up a large container of honey and scowls. “That sucks.”

“It’s for the best,” Thessaly says with conviction. “And by the way, are you two official?”

“Officially not dating, if that’s what you’re asking!” Meg leans against the island and grins. “Hey, Doogie. How’s New York treatin’ ya?”

Sitting on the floor and retying the laces to his sneakers, Shelby answers, “Not bad. I managed to get tickets for Jimmy Fallon tonight – wanna come?”

“Hell yeah!” Meg exclaims.

Standing from the floor and slapping Seth’s arm, Shelby apologizes, “Sorry, man, I only scored two tickets.”

“It’s cool. I’ll just watch Silicon Valley with my roommate. Maybe grill some cheese sandwiches and share a six pack . . .” mutters Seth.

“Awesome,” Shelby agrees. “Donuts?”

Meg follows Shelby to the kitchen while Seth helps Thessaly unwrap the remaining jars. “Jimmy Fallon and a doctor? I can’t even compete,” Seth drones.

“I wouldn’t worry. Meg is totally into you.”

Spilling from the kitchen with a napkin and two glazed donuts, Meg frowns. “Did I hear my name?” She places a napkin on the island and then shoves the shiny golden pastry into Seth’s face.

Seth rips off a piece with his teeth and smiles at Meg. She moves closer to him, their bodies touching, and whispers, “Good boy.” Spinning back around to face Thessaly, Meg says, “I was thinking we could suspend online orders for the remainder of the month. Without Lois, and with the new launch coming, it will be impossible to keep our high standards of delivery.”

“How many pending orders do we have?” asks Thessaly.

“I’ll look again, but I think less than ten. We can fill those tomorrow and ship them out on Monday.”

“All I have to do on my end is deactivate the online store – which is really easy.”

“Then let’s do it.”

“Did you talk to ice cream guy?”

“Mr. Softee!”

“Levi,” Thessaly corrects.

“Like the jeans?” Shelby teases.

Clarifying the confusion, Meg recites, “Levi Jones is the owner of Brooklyn Soil. He has a crush on your sister and got a boner during a photo shoot . . .”

“Stop right there,” begs Shelby.

“Levi and I had a few dates this week, but it’s not going to work.”

“Because of Mason?” asks Seth.

Crossing his arms, Shelby scorns, “I thought you ended things with Mason.”

“I tried, but then he asked me to move to London,” answers Thessaly.

“You’re moving to London?” squeals Meg.

“No, I mean, I said no.”

“Good. So what’s up with Levi?” asks Seth.

Ashamed, Thessaly whispers, “Levi took some of my clients.”

“He has honey,” Meg clarifies.

“Brooklyn Soil?” Shelby asks.

“Yes!” Meg and Seth shout in unison.

“Keep up, brother,” teases Thessaly.

“I do actually.” Swiping the iPad from the island, Shelby types in Brooklyn Soil and Immigrants into the Google search bar. Tapping the first title of a dozen articles, Shelby enlarges the screen and passes it to Thessaly. “Mama wanted me to find a youth program in Asheville that would allow troubled kids to spend a week on our farm. Brooklyn Soil kept popping up in my searches when I was researching youth farm programs – it’s pretty impressive.”

As Thessaly skims the article, Seth peers over her shoulder and asks, “So Levi is a good guy?”

“He’s amazing,” Thessaly mumbles.

“And you never googled him?” Meg quips, scrolling through her phone with a smile. “Do you follow his Instagram account?”

“No,” she answers quietly.

“I just did! Damn, he was in the Peace Corps. Look at this photo, Tess.” Meg flips her phone around to reveal a photo of Levi with a group of kids in an open kitchen in Belize. They’re all holding an ear of corn and a sign that reads: We’re so corny!

Thessaly smiles and then continues to read the online article. “What’s the refugee alliance,” she asks the group.

Shelby moves to Thessaly’s side and reads over her shoulder. “It’s a program that offers jobs to refugees seeking asylum. They work in agriculture or the arts while assimilating into New York.” Shelby taps a photo of a young couple on the iPad and addresses his sister. “And take a look at their newest project.”

“Beekeeping,” Thessaly whispers.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t be concerned, Tess. They have one Afghani beekeeper, one apiary, and ten colonies.”

“Tess, he posted a pic with you!” Meg exclaims as she squeezes between Shelby and Thessaly. “You look drunk, but beautiful.”

“Obviously you haven’t seen Tess drunk,” Shelby teases.

Placing the iPad on the counter with a screen shot of a black and white photo of Levi planting cabbage, Thessaly calmly says, “Let’s get back to work, Shelby.” Glancing at Seth, she adds, “You two don’t have to stay. Go enjoy your day off!”

Nodding in agreement and pulling Meg away from Shelby, Seth replies, “Let’s go, weirdo.”

Looking at her phone while Seth tugs at her waist, Meg sighs. “Gah, he’s so nice, Tess. I bet Levi has a naughty little secret – the nice guys always get freaky in bed!”