"Did that go as smoothly as it looked?"
She snorts. "Oh, that was one of the easier ones. You should've seen the guy who wanted to propose mid-skydive, except for the tiny problem that he was afraid of heights."
"That can't be real."
"Unfortunately, yes. I talked him into a hot air balloon, figured slower ascent, less terrifying, but that plan fell apart the moment the operator admitted he had commitment issues. It interfered with his ability to land safely."
I blink at her. "You're making this up."
"I wish. We ended up doing it in the balloon basket on the ground, with a fan and some convincing lighting." She shrugs, pleased. "Sometimes you've got to get creative with people's dreams."
My phone buzzes, Henry.
Henry
Savvy and I are flying back tonight. Can we meet tomorrow to catch up on everything?
I show her the message.
"Perfect timing," she says, slipping back into planning mode. "We'll need all hands on deck for the festival."
Then her expression softens. "You okay with Henry knowing about … everything?"
The question hits harder than I expect.
Am I okay with it?
Henry's my friend, but this isn't a business deal. It's the part of my life I've kept sealed off and filed under "never to be discussed."
But Richard is his father.
And no one comes out of that unscathed. Whether Henry knows the full story or not, he's seen enough to fill in the blanks.
"He'll understand," I say, and for the first time, I believe it. "He's good at seeing the whole picture."
Maddy squeezes my hand. "He's going to be proud of what you're doing. What we're doing."
Her touch, her certainty, they settle a restlessness in me.
Tomorrow, we face whatever Richard throws our way.
But tonight, in this so-called war room, for the first time in years, I feel it.
I'm where I belong.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MADDY
The morning sun casts long shadows across Main Street as I pull up to Timeless Treats. My stop here is a small ritual, a pause before the flurry of the barn. Mason's coffee. An almond croissant. Little anchors in a life that has finally, maybe, begun to steady.
Today feels no different. The scent of pastry wraps around me as I push open the door. I order the usual, humming under my breath. For once, I'm almost convinced everything is as it should be.
Then I look at the stack of copies of River Bend Happenings near the register and see today's headline. "New Resident Brings Big City Problems to Small Town Dreams."
I snatch a copy, scanning the article as my fingers tighten around the paper. Mrs. Patterson has outdone herself, weaving fragments of truth with speculation that paints Mason as a calculating outsider who's wormed his way into the community's trust while hiding a "troubling history of corporate destruction." She doesn't mention Silver Creek, but she doesn't need to, every dog whistle hits its mark.
Reading it leaves a bitter feeling in my stomach as I pay for my items. Its warmth offers no comfort.