Page 17 of Small Town Boy

“Anyway,” Bronwyn says, turning back to the group. “Kenzie, you were talking wedding?”

“Well, I can’t now that the boys are here.”

“Sure you can,” Dustin chimes in. “It’s not like the wedding plans are a secret. By the way, I’m Dustin, and this is Camden.”

Camden raises a hand in silent hello, arm slipped around Sylvie, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. A feeling he’s not alone in. Bronwyn waves back, taking a long sip of her drink. Is that…lemonade?

“Some of it might be,” Kenzie taunts. “I might have a few surprises up my sleeve.”

“I like the sound of that,” Dustin says, leaning in to kiss her.

Milo chooses that moment to appear, asking us all what we want to drink and if the ladies would like refills. We place our orders, and he nods, heading off to get them fulfilled.

“I spent a summer in Boston,” Camden chirps up, his attempt at making conversation a little awkward. Bronwyn doesn’t seem to notice though.

“Yeah? Summer in the city is beautiful. Plus, then it’s baseball season. Nothing better than seeing the Sox play at Fenway.”

“Err, well, I didn’t spend that much time downtown. I did a summer internship at Tufts Vet School. But, we did make it to the North End for Mike’s Pastry.”

Bronwyn laughs, and the sweet sound surrounds me, drowning out everything else in this bar. The hair on my arms stands at attention—as does the rest of my body—feeling both on high alert and serene at the same time. Like I’m sitting in one of those vibrating chairs, the sensations taking over, working their own brand of magic on me.

“I prefer The Modern. It’s just down the street and much less crowded. That’s where you need to go if you want a real cannoli.”

“Good to know!” Sylvie says. “We were asked to sponsor a conference up that way next spring and were considering heading up there, as long as it doesn’t interfere with the wedding and robotics.”

“Hickory Hills sponsors a conference?”

“No, Glitter Litter does. Camden invented it.”

“Isn’t that the stuff that eats poop?”

“It actually breaks down the fecal matter based on enzymes⁠—”

“No one wants to hear that, Doc,” I say, cutting him off. Bronwyn jumps, almost imperceptibly at the sound of my voice. If I hadn’t been watching her, back still to me, I wouldn’t have noticed. But it was there. Now the question is, was it a good thing?

“Sorry, I can get carried away.”

“It’s fine,” Bronwyn says, giggling. Fuck, that noise. That might just be the death of me. Because this time, it’s my dick taking notice. And the last thing I need is to be walking around sporting a semi. “I can get that way about work too. Passion like that is never a bad thing.”

“Which is why Hayes is sooooo excited to have you. I have a list of things I want your help with. I can social media with the best of them, but if we can have real marketing and brand power behind that, damn, we’ll be unstoppable.”

“Hayes already is,” Kenzie comments.

“All we want is to take over the world; is that too much to ask?”

“Adding taking over the world to my to-do list,” Bronwyn says, turning toward Willa, giving me a glimpse of her profile.

“God, Coffman Witte is going to be so sad they didn’t fight harder for you. Just let you walk out the door…” Willa says, fingers making the walking motion.

Bronwyn winces, forcing a smile to her face. Something about what Willa said struck a nerve. One that runs deep. Much more so than any of my faux pas yesterday.

I knew the story of how Hayes poached Bronwyn from some massive marketing firm in Boston—Willa hasn’t shut up about it for weeks. Not since she and Gus interviewed Bronwyn. How this company allegedly didn’t blink when Bronwyn handed in her notice, not even bothering with a counteroffer, even though she was some big deal in their world. She’d been listed in some magazine as one of “thirty-five under thirty-five” to watch out for. Whatever that meant. I won’t lie, I don’t know enough about how all that works, but I have to agree, it sounds impressive.

Which is why it doesn’t make sense that some company would let her walk like that. Add in Bronwyn’s forced facial expression just now, and that tells me all I need to know. I might not be talkative, but I can read people better than anyone I know. Bronwyn has a story. There’s more to her than meets the eye.

And I want to know all of it.

“Coffman Witte is in the past. I’m here now, and that’s all that matters.”