Chapter18
The town square was alive with music and laughter.White string lights hung between the trees, swaying gently in the evening breeze.The gazebo glowed like a lantern in the center of it all, and a three-piece band played something bluesy and warm.People milled around picnic tables laden with donated food, their voices rising and falling in comfortable conversation.
Cassidy stood near the edge of the gathering and tried to remember the last time she’d attended a community event that wasn’t a networking mixer.Her shoes sank slightly into the uneven ground.She was glad she’d forsaken her heels for flats.
“Cassidy!”Sally waved from a table near the gazebo.“Come try Dorothy’s pecan pie before it’s gone.”
She smiled and waved back but stayed where she was.The Harbor Ladies had outdone themselves with this fundraiser.Every detail reflected the authentic charm she’d been working so hard to preserve.No corporate logos.No slick branding.Just neighbors supporting neighbors.
Her phone buzzed in her clutch.She pulled it out and glanced at the screen.Another email from Steve Hodges with the subject line:Phillips Pitch Update.She swiped it away without reading it.
Three weeks ago, that email would have sent her into a spiral.Now it just felt distant.Like news from someone else’s life.
“Impressive turnout.”
She turned.Bryan stood a few feet away with his hands in his pockets.He wore khakis and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.His hair was still damp, like he’d showered right before coming.
“The Harbor Ladies did most of the heavy lifting,” she said.“I just helped with the promotion.”
“They told me you strong-armed the bakery into donating desserts.”
“I negotiated.There’s a difference.”
His mouth twitched.Not quite a smile, but close.He looked past her toward the gazebo where couples had started dancing.His jaw tightened slightly.“I heard George Morton offered to sponsor the festival,” he said.
The shift in his tone was immediate.Casual to guarded in three seconds flat.
She straightened her shoulders.“He did.”
“And?”
“And I turned him down.”
His gaze snapped back to her.His eyes were dark in the dim light, searching her face for something.Proof, maybe.
“You turned down that much money?”His voice was carefully neutral, but she heard the doubt underneath.
She’d been expecting this.The distrust and the assumption that she’d cave to the numbers because that’s what corporate people did.A week ago, it would have stung.Now it just made her tired.
“Yes, Bryan.I turned it down.”She kept her voice even.“Morton wanted aggressive branding.His corporate logo on everything.Oceanside banners at every entrance.Essentially, he wanted to buy the festival’s identity.”
“But the funding?—”
“Would have come with strings attached that would have destroyed everything we’ve been working to preserve.”She crossed her arms.“I’m not a fool.I know what his offer meant.”
He studied her for another long moment.The music swelled behind them.Someone laughed, bright and unrestrained.
“I also got a call from Kathleen Brown at the Gulf Coast Tourism Board.They want to feature the Starlight Harbor Festival in their destination guide, specifically in their authentic small-town events section.No cost to us, just exposure to thousands of potential visitors who are looking for what we’re offering.”
Something shifted in Bryan’s expression.The tension in his shoulders eased slightly.
“That’s the kind of partnership that makes sense,” she continued.“The kind that highlights what’s already special instead of trying to rebrand it into something marketable.”
He nodded slowly.The distrust was fading from his eyes, replaced by something warmer that made her stomach flutter in a way she absolutely did not have time to analyze.
“I should have known better than to assume you’d sell out,” he said quietly.
“You should have.”She tried to sound stern, but a smile tugged at her lips.“But I’ll forgive you this once.”
