Page 38 of Book Club Confidential

So she focused on how lucky she was to have a dad who wanted to make her dinner. That was really all that mattered.

“Great,” her dad said. “Now that’s settled. What are you up to tonight? What’s new in my big-shot daughter’s world that’s kept you from calling?”

The question surprised her. Had she forgotten to call him last night? She really was having a problematic week. “Did I tell you I was up for a promotion at work?”

“Ah,” he said. “You love that fancy job. Tell me what else you’ve been up to. The real stuff. Are you dating? How are those friends of yours? You know they’re welcome to dinner anytime. I can’t compete with Hallie in the kitchen, but I’d still do my best.” He chuckled.

Tessa’s shoulders sagged. He rarely wanted to talk about her job. At her age, that probably shouldn’t sting, but it did.

“I’m just about to go on a run along the river,” she lied. The crack in her voice likely gave her away. “I hate to rush off, but I don’t want to be out long after dark.”

“Say no more,” he said. “Be safe, Tiger. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dad.” The words ached in her throat as she disconnected the call.

Tessa entered her building a few moments later, hating herself for still feeling the betrayal and abandonment left over from adolescence. And heartbroken that her dad didn’t seem to have a clue.

Chapter Eleven

Tessa got an early start in the morning, excited for one of her favorite days of the year. She parked in the public lot, across the street from a recently erected Harbor Heights Eighth Annual Monarch Festival sign and smiled. Her week’s trials and tribulations paled in comparison to her enthusiasm for Monarch Fest. Most things did.

She retrieved the foldable canvas wagon from her trunk, then filled it with gift bags and boxes from her car.

Josephine pulled into the space beside hers and climbed out with a cheery squeal. Her strawberry-blond hair hung over her shoulders in waves. Two butterfly-shaped clips gathered the strands into little bunches, one on each side of her crown. Her monarch-print dress, black tights, and Mary Janes completed the heavily themed ensemble. “I love Monarch Fest.”

Tessa grinned. She’d chosen wide-legged black trousers and a sleeveless orange blouse to avoid battling the wind for her dignity, and paired the outfit with sneakers for the long walk ahead.

“Is it weird that I love this festival so much?” she asked.

“Nope,” Tessa said, closing and locking her trunk. “You are definitely not alone.”

Monarch Fest was a relatively new community event that celebrated the mass migration of monarch butterflies through the area. The migration happened twice a year, spring and fall, but the September movement often resulted in the landing of hundreds of the beautiful insects en route to Mexico.

When the festival launched during the early years of Tessa’s internship with Hello, Marketing, she saw an opportunity to connect with potential clients through the event, and she took it. She created themed gift bags for local shops and hand delivered them with her business cards and pamphlets about her company. Many of those owners later called or stopped by to ask about ad campaigns, and her initial list of boutique accounts was established.

These days, Tessa used the opening day of the festival as a time to visit clients at work, shake their hands, and thank them for being a part of her portfolio. In more recent years, she added the tradition of delivering gift bags filled with products from those businesses and notes about the items’ origins. Then she looked for ways the owners could bridge connections and partnerships between shops as well.

Spending a beautiful morning outside the office with Josephine was icing on the cake.

“I love that something you started as a brilliant marketing plan when you were a baby intern has become a tradition all your clients love.” Josephine continued, “Your referral rate is higher than anyone else at our company, Xavier included.”

“Really?”

Josephine nodded. “Haven’t you ever wondered why they’re all assigned to you?”

Tessa smiled. “I really love my job,” she said. “I’ve complained a lot lately, but it’s not about the work. I can’t imagine doing anything else. I wouldn’t want to.”

Josephine stopped at the open door to the shop on the corner and extended an arm for Tessa to enter before her. “It’s a darn good thing, because you’re terrific at it. You make each client feel like family.”

“They are, though. Aren’t they?” Tessa asked over her shoulder.

Josephine smiled. “They are.”

The familiar scents of herbs and spices engulfed Tessa, and she inhaled deeply through her nose. Olive My Heart was a small first-floor shop in a three-story building otherwise converted into upscale condos. The maroon-and-cream-colored walls and stands displayed endless bags and boxes of dry ingredients that shoppers could take home and add a little something to from their refrigerator, completing a delicious recipe. Breads and muffins. Pancakes, cookies, and soups. Central racks featured a wide variety of bottles of gourmet olive oils and vinegars.

The owner, Monique, spotted Tessa and Josephine immediately and moved in their direction.

“Oh! There you are,” she sang, hurrying around the counter, arms thrown wide for a group hug.