Again, I glance toward the ballroom doors, just in case Linc materializes.
“Pause,peace, power,diva!” Vincent snaps twice, pulling my attention back. “I ran into Linc headed out on my way in. He went to pick up more hardwood for the billiard room. He said he’d be back soon.” He says it like he’s trying to calm me down, but the softness in his voice only makes me feel like I’m about to combust over a new follower.
Ugh,what does thatmean?
With the phone burning a hole in my hand, I blink repeatedly. “Okay, so Lincoln Bridges followed me? Why? I’m genuinely so confused.”
“Don’t be.” Vincent holds up a hand. “That man doesn’t even know how to use PopShot. And now that I’m thinking about it, it was actually Bridges Heritage Conservation that followed you. So he probably won’t even comment. The business account is used mostly for portfolio pics. That’s it.”
I nod and let out a shaky laugh.
“Yeah, you’re probably right…” But just as the calm loosens the knots in my stomach, my thoughts screech to a halt. “Wait, so Linc’s business following me is newsworthy, somehow?”
“To the invested interwebs, absolutely. But also, let’s reel it way back, because things are clearly getting jumbled.” Vincent slices his soft-looking hands through the air, starting over. “We’ve got to keep our timeline in order, so I’ll go slow. Now, again, you were schmoozing and cruising these halls—”
A laugh bubbles up in my throat, and he pauses, clearly annoyed with my interruptions.
“No, I’m with you. Please continue.” I wave him off, my lips still twitching because this man has never met a catchphrase pairing he didn’t like.
Vincent purses his glossy lips and swallows. “It’s fine. I’ve got a quick question, anyway. Now, I know you took some time off from event planning, which, absolutely, understandable.” He gives me a wide-eyed stare, like he knows exactly how hard I fell, both personally and professionally, post-divorce. “But I’m just curious—are you still renting that office at the old Ellswood Mill?”
Immediately, I cringe. “Uh, long story short, yes…” I trail off, weighing how to actually trim the details and get to the point. “I haven’t really been using it for business, per se. Up until recently, it’s mostly been a storage spot for all my oversized event props—floral arrangements, chairs, cake stands, various linens, photobooth stuff, you name it.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you owned all that.”
“Not everything.” I shrug, still swiping through comments. “But keeping some stuff on hand helps with flexibility. Especially when I plan multiple events, or have shorter timeframes.”
He chuckles. “Like this one?”
“Exactly like this one.” I smile, smoothing my hand over my short hair. “I love being able to add personalized touches, here and there, for my clients. They’re trusting me with their milestone events. The least I can do is make it magical, you know? My props are invaluable.”
“Yeah…” Vincent lets out another heavy sigh, and I swear he curses under his breath. “I’m sorry, Ebony. It’s gone.”
I laugh, raising an eyebrow. “What’s gone?”
“I’m guessing you haven’t seen the news today.”
A wave of worry hits me, sharp and fast, as I swipe out of the PopShot app and open my web browser. “Vincent, I don’t have news apps on my phone. I don’t need that negativity. Just tell me what happened already.”
“The Ellswood Mill burned down.”
All the air seems to drain out of my lungs. “Burned? Like someone set it on fire?”
“The news said it was an electrical fire sometime after nine thirty this morning.” And that’s about all I catch before my mind starts swimming in a soupy mix of fear, anger, and utter disbelief. An electrical fire? What the hell were people plugging in? Who doesn’t use surge protectors? Was there no one around with a fire extinguisher?
I shake my head, squeezing my eyes closed.
“The whole building?” I drag in deep breaths, willing myself to calm down. “I was about to stop by after I locked up here.”
Vincent’s posture softens, his voice turning solemn. “Ebony, I’m so sorry. Hopefully replacing your props won’t be too hard. You said it was mostly the big stuff, and most of the smaller things are at home—”
“No, they’re not.” I close my eyes and shake my head as the reality of losing all of my physical assets hits me. “Vincent, I moved my entire planning inventory there last week. And now it’s all just…ashes.What thehell am I supposed to do?”
I start pacing the room, kneading my temples as the floorboards creak beneath each leaden step.
“And we’re already in mid-June.” I huff out a sigh. “There’s no way I can replace everything by September. I don’t have that kind of money right now.”
“What about the insurance?”
