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“He also dated Finley so maybe we can get her to call him.”
She makes a face. “I think she broke up with him for Archer.”
“Maybe Jake can call him.”
We laugh and then we’re interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Hey.” Finley stands in the doorway, her eyes flicking back and forth between us. “What’s so funny?” She’s smiling at us, the brightness in her face almost blinding. It’s been a long time since Finley has looked so incandescently happy, at least when Mindy and I are in the same room together.
A weight lifts from my spine, leaving me nearly breathless. I knew our rift was affecting Finley, but until now I wasn’t aware just how much.
I glance at Mindy and then grin at Finley. “I think we’re starting a new family business.”
ChapterTwenty-Two
Taylor
“One of the food trucks needs a generator. Theirs died. I’m going to run to the camp and grab one of ours. And my tool belt because things keep falling apart.” Jake finds me in the middle of attempting to defuse twelve million other explosions.
“Tell me about it,” I mutter. Reed from the county office is around here somewhere. I need to find him to finalize all the permits for the event. I have to guide vendors where to set up to avoid any clashing if lines build up, and I’ve been showing staff where to place speakers, lights, hammocks, campsites, and the art pieces to spread throughout the nearby wooded area. All of that in between putting out one fire after another. But it will be worth it.
I can’t wait until tonight to get a look at everything we’ve been working on. It’s been a rush all day to set it all up for the test run. Piper is overseeing the art in the woods, and Mindy has been coordinating all the artists’ schedules.
The festival isn’t until tomorrow, but we need everything in place before attendees begin arriving in the morning.
I return my attention to Jake’s problem. “Maybe grab two generators, just in case. We can store one in Veronica’s office.”
“Good idea.” He nods and then squints toward the stage to our left. “What are they doing?”
I follow his gaze. Archer and Atticus are assisting the event techs with carrying boxes full of cords and amps and who knows what else. They set down a long, heavy speaker at the end of the stage and high-five. “They’re helping with the heavy stuff.”
Jake frowns.
“Wait, are you jealous?” I ask.
“No,” he scoffs.
Archer laughs at something Atticus says, throwing his head back in mirth.
“Fine. Maybe a little. They are a lot alike. Both big and brawny with names that start with A.” He raises a hand in their direction. “Look at them. They’re like carbon copy Paul Bunyans.” He kicks the ground before trudging away.
I shake my head, blowing out a breath and turning to the next person who needs me, getting lost in my ever-increasing to-do list, a frenetic state that has become second nature over the past three weeks.
It’s been a whirlwind of research, planning, phone calls, and delegating wherever I can.
Not to mention spending as much time as possible in between the madness with Atticus.
Almost every night, I sneak over and spend the night with him, each time more frenzied than the last.
After the show tomorrow night, I’m gone.
The parts for my bus came in earlier in the week, and I gave Pearl the okay to finish the work.
Maybe I should stay a little longer to save up for some travel funds.
Maybe I should stay, period. But then what will I do? Veronica is coming back. She doesn’t need me indefinitely. If I’m going to stay in any one place, music has to be involved, and Whitby isn’t exactly a mecca for... anything.
If I had some kind of opportunity to pursue, I might actually consider it.
