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“Wow.” Whoever is speaking to her on the other end must share something good based on the tiny squeal she lets out.
I’m not one to eavesdrop, but she is blocking my one wayoff the property.
“A show with them would be huge!”
My stomach sinks. “So much for sticking around until the house is done,” I mutter under my breath.
“Would they want to film in San Francisco again?” She pauses. “Oh. That’s good, then.” She waits a few seconds to speak again. “January? That soon?”
I don’t need to hear the entire conversation to jump to conclusions. Rather than feel relieved by her leaving town, I’m suffering from a serious case of heartburn.
You’ve done everything possible to make something like this happen, and now you’re disappointed? Pick a lane and stay in it.
I ignore the pain in my chest and walk toward my truck, scaring Dahlia in the process. She steps out of the way, and I keep my eye contact to a minimum as I climb inside the cab and turn on the engine.
This is for the best, I lie to myself as I drive away from the Founder’s house.
You wanted her to leave, I’m quick to remind myself as I park outside my office.
Dahlia dreamed of a life bigger than this small town, and you will never be able to give her that, so stop pining over her and pull yourself together. My mind goes blank as I get to work, drowning myself in paperwork rather than regrets.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Julian
When I got my mom’s 911 text ten minutes ago during one of my last meetings of the day, I assumed a tent might be on fire or a cat stuck in a tree, but a quick walk through the park shows nothing amiss outside of the usual Thursday preparations for the weekend.
Come tomorrow, this place will be packed with volunteers since Fridays before the Harvest Festival are considered a town holiday, with everyone taking off from work to help prepare for a full Saturday and Sunday of events.
“You’re here! Thank God.” Mom makes a big show of throwing her arms around me and pulls me into a hug, turning my ears pink as the volunteers stare at us.
It takes an insane amount of strength to pry her off me. “So, what’s the emergency?”
Her shoulders slump. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Only if you don’t get to the point fast enough.”
She pops her hands on her hips. “Luis Julian Lopez Junior. Don’t you dare talk to your mother like that.”
I swipe a frustrated hand down my face, erasing my scowl. “Sorry, Ma. I’m exhausted from the week.” After a day full of meetings while avoiding Dahlia in my own office building, I’m spent.
“Make it up to me by saying you’ll go to Detroit.Tonight.”
“Whatever you need.”
She wipes her damp forehead. “I knew I could count on you.”
“What’s the issue?”
“I screwed up the dates for the festival with the rental company, so now I’m short on chairs and tables. The original one I chose for the event is booked solid, so I found another in Detroit that has enough.”
“Why can’t they come here?”
“They don’t deliver this far.”
There goes my date with a bottle of Merlot and a premade meal.“Do they know I’m coming?”
“Yes, but you’ll need to borrow Fred’s moving truck.”
