1
HAYES
Listening to the real estate agent jabber over my car speaker, I’m growing a little frustrated.I’ve looked at five different places in Chicago, and I’ve set my sights on the last property shown.A penthouse with three bedrooms, a small office, approaching the north side of the city, and high enough for a great view over the lake, too.So why is she going over the homeowners' association and fees? I don’t know. This is the agent that HR sent to me while I prepare to relocate?
“Just get it done. I don’t care if fees don’t cover the parking spot. Let’s wrap this conversation up. They’re announcing my new role at the office later in the week, and I have enough to deal with right now.” I’m moving to Chicago from Austin to become the Chief of Operations at Haven Crossroads. The owner, Julian Haven, who happens to be my best friend, wore me down until I said yes. It just hasn’t been announced yet.
“Of course. It’s the weekend. You won’t hear from me until I have news.” Steffy, on the other end, sounds apologetic.
“Thanks,” I sigh and end the call. I’ve worked hard, striking gold investing in a few startups, to get the number of zeroes in my net worth, and I’m sure as hell going to enjoy it.
I squint as I begin to see fall-colored trees on the horizon on this blue-sky Saturday afternoon, and the landscape of dry cornfields turns slightly hilly when I exit the highway onto Lake Spark County Road. I’ve been out of the city and suburbs for a good hour, and all I’ve seen is flat farmland. A few times, I tried to guess the crop when it didn’t look like corn. I just needed to pass the time.
Entering Everhope, the quaint town greets me with a classic Main Street and well-maintained storefronts and sidewalks. Definitely postcard-worthy. I find my way to Julian’s weekend home and sputter a laugh. There’s a field of wheat behind the large house with a sprawling front porch. Parking, I find my way around the house to the backyard and instantly spot my best friend by the grill with hanging streamers in the background.
Wasting no time to make myself at home, I grab two bottles of beer from the chilled bucket on the long table with a plaid tablecloth in passing. I continue my way to him.
“Look what the cows dragged in.” He grins, and I hand him a bottle.
“Only for you did my navigation send me through corn fields to get to your weekend chalet.”
We both use the side of the workstation edge to pop the caps before we clink our beers together.
The guy looks ridiculously relaxed, and I’ve never seen him this way. "It'll grow on you, just wait. Thanks for coming. Nothing’s better than having a friend and new COO at my backyard BBQ for Savannah’s birthday."
I give him the once-over. “All you need is an apron with some ridiculous phrase on it,and we’re all set.”
“Har-har.”
“Where is the birthday girl? Contemplating her birthday wish and if it should involve you or not?” I tease him.
He holds out his bottle, wanting me to accept a toast. “It does, as we are getting married.”
A wide grin finds me. “Ah, congrats.” Another clink of our drinks. “You’re settling down. Next thing you know, there will be a little one and a Labrador running around.”
“We’ll wait. Unless I get a little demanding on the honeymoon.”
Kids.
That’s already on his mind. Makes sense, we are at the age. I guess if I were with someone, then the topic would come up, too. A long discussion, actually. I have my career in full swing, but so does he.
I have to highlight caution to him because he has a tendency to go overboard. “Marriage and having a kid are two different things. Anyhow, where is the bride-to-be?” My eyes scan the yard.
I spot Savannah walking out of the kitchen carrying a tray of veggies. And then I freeze.
A chest-dropping, stomach-sinking, blood-rushing-in-my-ears type of freeze.
The woman following Savannah is holding a bowl of dip. Her hair is still long and slightly darker, and she seems happy, smiling with a warm, familiar smile. The forest-green sweater paired with those dark jeans screams natural beauty.
But what the hell?
I do a double take, it can’t be. I feel perplexed. “Why is she here?”
Julian swings his gaze to his fiancée and must notice thatmy eyes are on the woman next to her. “Elodie? She’s Savannah’s best friend and also works at the office.”
My eyes go wide. That can’t be right. “You mean Ellie?”
“I mean, Elodie,” he repeats.
