Page 12

My chest aches anyway.

At two o'clock, I'm reviewing the trail hike logistics when Noah Kane appears beside me. White henley, hands in his pockets, steel gray eyes doing that quiet assessment thing that makes everyone in his orbit feel simultaneously respected and evaluated.

"Walk with me?"

We take the loop path behind the lodge. October leaves carpet the trail in copper and gold. Noah walks slowly, which means he's thinking. Noah Kane never walks slowly unless he's about to say something that matters.

"You've done exceptional work this weekend, Sloane."

"Thank you."

"The flow is seamless. Guests are engaged. The social media content Talia pulled from yesterday is already performing above our projections. Your instinct for creating an atmosphere is exactly what I was hoping for when I brought you on."

I wait. There's more.

"Talia and I have been talking about the Club Crimson event calendar for next year. We're expanding beyond the Autumn Harvest. Holiday gala in December. A spring retreat. Potentially a summer program. We need someone to coordinate the full annual schedule."

My heart rate spikes. "An ongoing contract?"

"A retainer. Twelve months. Full creative authority over event design and execution, working directly with Talia on brand integration." He stops walking. Turns to me. "We'd want you based in Crimson Hollow for the duration. Housing provided on the estate."

A year. A twelve month retainer with Club Crimson. Creative authority. Housing. My name attached to every event this club produces, building a portfolio that would put me on a level I've been dreaming about since I organized my cousin's baby shower for two hundred dollars.

"I don't need an answer this weekend," Noah says. "Take some time. But I want you to know that this offer is contingent on what I've seen from you in the last thirty six hours. Professionalism, precision, creativity. You handle pressure without cracking, and you treat every detail like it matters. That's rare."

Professionalism. The word lands heavy.

"Jake runs a tight operation on the security side," Noah continues, walking again. Casual. Conversational. "His team is excellent. Morales in particular. Having a strong working relationship between events and security is essential for what we're building. That collaboration you two showed with the bottleneck adjustments yesterday? That's the standard I want to maintain."

Working relationship. Collaboration. Standard.

"Of course," I say. My voice sounds normal. Steady. Nothing like the scream building behind my ribs.

Noah nods. Satisfied. "Enjoy the rest of the weekend. We'll talk details next week."

He walks back toward the lodge. I stand on the trail with leaves falling around me, the most important career offer of my life ringing in my ears, and all I can think about is the look on Dante's face when I said it can't happen again.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of logistics. Trail hike goes off clean. Vendor reports filed. Evening program timeline confirmed. I move through the event on autopilot, hitting every mark, adjusting every detail, while something cold and heavy settles in my stomach.

At five thirty I'm behind the cider station restocking cups when my phone buzzes.

Mom:

How's the mountain event going baby? You eating? You sleeping? Don't work yourself to death up there.

Me:

Going great. Got offered a year long contract.

Mom:

SLOANE MARIE. A YEAR?? Oh my god. I'm calling your auntie right now.

Me:

Don't call auntie yet. I haven't accepted.

Mom: