My phone buzzed in my pocket, cutting me off.
I pulled it out, ready to silence whoever was interrupting, but the name on the screen made me pause.
Lauren Riley.
My old boss from my time working at the Seattle music festival. Before I'd taken the corporate job. Before Aaron convinced me “stable income” mattered more than creative fulfillment.
We hadn't talked in over two years.
“Sorry, I should—” I glanced at Emily, already standing. “I need to take this.”
Emily waved me off. “Go. I'll raid this basket while you're gone.”
I climbed down from the truck bed and walked a few steps away, my thumb hovering over the screen. Why would Lauren be callingnow? We'd kept in touch for a few months after I left the festival, but that had faded when my life became consumed by Aaron's world.
I swiped to answer. “Lauren?”
“Rosie! God, I was hoping you'd pick up.” Lauren's voice burst through the speaker, warm and familiar and exactly as I remembered. “How are you? I've been thinking about you.”
“I'm—” I glanced back at Emily, who was already pulling vegetables from the basket. “I'm good. Really good, actually.”
“Yeah? Because the last time we talked, you were drowning in spreadsheets and corporate nonsense.”
I laughed, surprised at how easily the sound came. “That was a lifetime ago.”
“Tell me everything. What have you been up to?”
“I moved to Colorado.” I turned toward the mountains, their peaks catching the evening light. “Took over my uncle's farm. I'm running it now.”
“Wait,what?” Lauren's laugh was bright and infectious. “You're afarmer?”
“Apparently.”
“That's crazy. But you were always talking about those summers you spent there.” She paused. “Are you happy?”
The question caught me off guard. “I am. Yeah. It's chaotic and exhausting, but it's growing on me.”
“I love that for you.” Lauren's voice softened. “You always landed on your feet. I'm not surprised.”
The compliment warmed me more than it should have. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
“So, listen—” Lauren's tone shifted, and I could practically hear her sitting up straighter. “I'm not just calling to catch up. Though we absolutely need to do that properly.”
“Okay...”
“I'm leaving the festival. Taking a job in Portland with a design agency.” She paused. “Which means my position is opening up. Art Director.”
My stomach dropped.
“They're interviewing candidates next month, but I told them they'd be idiots not to consider you.” Lauren spoke faster now, excited. “I understand you're running a farm now, but you werebrilliantwhen we worked together, Rosie. Creative, organized, could handle the chaos. The festival needs someone like you.”
I stared at the mountains, my brain struggling to catch up.
“I know it's been a while since you did event design,” Lauren continued. “But your portfolio was incredible. If you've been keeping up with any creative work?—”
“I have.” The words came automatically. “I've been doing branding for the farm. Logos, labels, marketing materials.”
“Perfect. Well if you're interested, send me samples and I'll forward them to the hiring committee.” Lauren's enthusiasm was infectious. “The pay's solid, benefits are great, and you'd be working with artists and musicians again. Remember how much you loved that?”
