Page 98 of Falling for Mr. October

“You’re my hero, Mr. October.”

He grins. “So let me open your door for you. I can even make a big show of carrying you out of the car. I think I’d like that.”

And what do you know. I let him…

We walk toward Gallagher Park together, hand in hand, pausing at the front of the improvised parking lot, where Giovanni gives Mr. O’Connor, who’s talking the ear off someone else, a fist bump.

“Now you’re just showing off,” I mutter as we stroll along the sidewalk toward the noise churning from Gallagher Park.

He gives me a sidelong glance, his eyes warm. “I’m glad you finally noticed. I’ve been trying to catch your attention since I got here.”

Then he leans over and brushes a quick kiss on my lips in front of the parade of people moving toward the festival. I tell myself he’s only playing along, but I keep lifting my fingers to brush my lips as if I can soak him up.

No less than four people stop us as we head toward the park. Two of them are out-of-towners who have come to the festival because they wanted to see Giovanni, and he signs a photograph of his abs for one of them. The other two ask about the fire, and one of them, an older lady I recognize but can’t place, also asks what he’s planning to do next.

He shoots a sidelong look at me. “I don’t know, ma’am, but I’m reading a book I’m told will help.”

When we move past her, I ask, “You started it?”

“I read the introduction last night, cara mia. You’re a hard woman to say no to. So is Emily.” He laughs and kicks a pinecone, which skitters along the sidewalk until it lands in a towering pile of leaves. “She took one look at me and saw a man who’s so lost he needs a literal guidebook, and she gave me one. You’ve got a good friend.”

I squeeze his hand as we move along, passing a family with a small, curly-haired child. “So does Miles. I’m glad you’re here.”

He lifts our clasped hands, kissing the back of mine. “I hope you realize by now that I’m your friend too.”

I’m overwhelmed by him, so I just nod. A feeling of contentment fills my chest as we continue toward the park, greeting other folks also headed to the festival. There’s a joyful atmosphere, a sense of being part of something bigger—not just this town, but this season. The folding of summer into fall. An end wrapped up in a beginning.

When my focus is on Giovanni, I can pretend this is a normal situation. But the evidence to the contrary is spread out in front of me.

This year’s festival is bloated, spilling all around the fence of Gallagher Park, with tables set up in every mostly level spot outside the gates. The larger tent pitched inside of the gates for the scarecrow competition is packed full of people. Which is blowing my mind. The scarecrow competition Evergreens & Apples sponsored last year was very sparsely attended, with only six participants, and Theo and I were two of the six.

“Does this town need so many scarecrows?” Giovanni muses. “There’ll be more scarecrows than people.”

I make a sound that’s half laugh and half sigh, and he nudges me with his shoulder. “We’ll each have one we can carry around with us. Maybe someone will make a horror movie about it. The scarecrows can take over the town.”

I’m smiling as I scan the tables, looking for the Evergreens & Apples sign.

Giovanni nods to the left of the gate. “There they are.”

The nonnas are sitting behind a display of gourds, bagged apples, and baked goods, and Emily is parked behind a small display a few tables down from them with a stack of hats and plenty of books. A few people are milling around the Evergreens & Apples booth, some daring to ask the nonnas about their baked goods.

We start veering off the main path and walk toward my family, Giovanni’s hand still wrapped around mine.

“Hopefully, Emily will sell out of ‘Smut Slut’ hats,” he murmurs, “and no one will be able to find me anymore. It’ll be like playing Where’s Waldo at a striped shirt factory.”

I start waving to them, trying to get their attention, when a familiar voice calls my name.

I’m already gritting my teeth as I turn to look at Rhett, and I start to grind them when I see that he’s not alone. He’s standing beside a man with a mustache that resembles a bottle brush and a camera strapped around his neck.

“Bianca, we need to talk,” Rhett says, his expression full of fake sympathy. My heart pulses a warning. I can think of nothing I’d like to discuss with him, particularly not while being witnessed by a reporter who would probably have something to say if I bludgeoned my ex-fiancé in the head.

“Oh?” Giovanni says, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me to him. “What is it this time? Would you like us to host a private dinner at your home? Or perhaps an art class? I know how to draw one thing.”

Rhett’s laughter is full of dislike. “Maybe, but look…”He shifts his attention to me, his face pulling into an expression of false compassion. “I’m so sorry to have to do this, Bianca, but we’re going to have to put you on suspension pending a full investigation of the fire. You understand. I’ve been getting concerned emails and calls. I love all of our silver apple residents, and I can’t in good conscience put them in jeopardy. You’ll be paid, of course, until the investigation has been completed.”

“You’re firing me?” I ask, hating the way my voice shakes. No doubt this is revenge for the pie bake-off.

“He’s not,” Giovanni all-but growls. “Even he wouldn’t be that foolish.”