Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“I respect that.” I nodded. “But, sir, I can hardly present the offer to the client until it’s approved. And we’ll be getting close to Brew Fest. Honeybridge Mead’s owner has pinned a lot of hopes on winning the mead contest. He’ll be too distracted to commit before then.”
Conrad stared at me for a beat, two. Then a slow smile spread over his face. “And you’re thinking if he doesn’t win best mead and get that Ren Faire contract, he’ll be willing to settle for a contract with better terms! Atta boy, Jonathan.”
“What?” My jaw dropped. “No! No, that’s not—”
“Alright, Rainmaker,” he chuckled. “I’ll let you have your way on this one. But I’m still going to need you working with Liz intensively on the preparations for the festival and with Jeff to get Archdale signed. I see lots of opportunities to expand our reach.” He winked. “Not that I need to tell you about maximizing opportunities.” He clapped his hands and faced the table again. “Alright, who’s next? Jacobs, tell me where we are with Migueyes Tequila?”
By the time I walked back to my office a half hour later, I was irritated without really knowing why. My phone had buzzed with incoming texts several times, but I’d ignored them.
I sat down heavily at my desk, wishing there was someone I could talk to, but Alice was working from home, and I knew my other friends and work colleagues wouldn’t understand why I was upset.
Hell, I wasn’t really sure why I was upset.
Conrad had tentatively approved of my plan for Honeybridge Mead, and he’d changed his mind about wanting it done quickly.
And yes, the thought process that had made Conrad agree to the delayed timeline was cringy—as cringy as Jeff Namath’s entire update had been—but signing contracts at the most profitable terms for the company wasn’t a bad thing. Not if both parties agreed.
So why did hearing Conrad talk about opportunities make me feel like I needed a shower?
I wondered if it would be weird for me to call Hayden to talk about this. Or maybe Marta. Or Pop Honeycutt, with his weird life advice. Sweep the floor while I tell you a story about the Honeybridge Fish Fry back in 2010 that will make this whole problem make sense, Frog. Ah, ah! Be careful with that broom, son. You missed something. Now, what was I saying? Oh, right…
I ran my hand over my face. I hadn’t missed the fact that all the people I thought might help were people in Honeybridge, the town where I’d been so sure no one knew me anymore. Maybe folks there knew more than I gave them credit for.
My phone buzzed again, and I took it out to find a whole wall of texts that I’d missed.
Firecracker: No comeback?
Firecracker: Jeez, fine. Don’t be prissy about it. It was a mutual thing. We were out of our minds for EACH OTHER, okay?
Firecracker: And I wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again. Speaking of which, I’m off tonight. I can pencil you in after 6. But no more edging.
Firecracker: Or at least LESS edging.
Firecracker: Okay, whatever. Edge me as much as you like. Is that what you want to hear?
Firecracker: JT?
Firecracker: Blink once for fine or twice if you need to be rescued or avenged.
Firecracker: K. I’m guessing you’re off conquering the world. I’m gonna go back to enjoying my corner of it. Later.
And just like that, I knew exactly what I needed to make me feel better.
My fingers flew over the screen.
Me:
Flynn replied instantly.
Firecracker: Well, okay then. Whose house are we toilet papering?
Damn. One word from Flynn Honeycutt—we—and suddenly, I didn’t feel pissed off or alone anymore. And wasn’t that scary as fuck?
Fortunately, I thrived on adrenaline.
Me: No one’s. I don’t need avenging, I need a rescue.
Me: I’m done with work for the week as of this minute, and I want to take you away, Flynn. Tonight.
He didn’t reply, but I’d bet every designer suit in my closet that he was standing in the Tavern, holding the phone in his hand, scowling at the screen.
Me: We can go to Ogunquit, just you and me… and maybe a friend from your drawer if you want?
Me: I know how much you love it there, and you said you haven’t gotten to go in years.
Me: And I figure you need a break from reality. Fuck knows I do. So what if we just did something spontaneous?
Still nothing. I swallowed hard.
Me: I know you’re gonna say that you and me being spontaneous is nearly as disastrous as us talking, but we’ve gotten better at communicating, haven’t we? We communicated REALLY effectively last night.
Me: Say yes.
Me: Please, Firecracker.
Three dots appeared beside Flynn’s name, then disappeared.
I held my breath.
They reappeared… and then disappeared again… before reappearing once more.