Page 2 of Small Town Boy

Shit…

“Sorry,” I sigh. “Sorry…it’s been a long day.”

“I can tell. Well, I wish I had a better answer for you, but keep your chin up. It’ll solve itself.”

Here’s hoping…

We hang up, and I’m right back to where I started—standing in the middle of a sweltering parking lot, with nothing but my massive suitcase, carry-on tote, and half-empty bottle of Diet Coke. I look at my bags, grabbing them to head back into the airport, thankful that at least they weren’t lost. They are literally all I have right now—all my other worldly possessions loaded onto a moving van that is en route from Boston, journeying to my new home.

Hickory Hills, Georgia.

For the thousandth time, I wonder if I was insane taking this job. Landing the role of director of marketing for Hayes Industries, a Fortune 500 company, is a dream though. Especially given what the last six months of my life have looked like. We’re not focusing on that though. Nope, I’ve put it behind me. Onward and upward. To Hayes and Hickory Hills.

I won’t lie; I had to look up Hickory Hills on the map. And then zoom out quite a bit to figure out exactly where it is in Georgia. The middle of nowhere, that’s where. A town of all of three thousand people—maybe—depending on how you counted town versus county, it was a far cry from the big bad city I’m used to. But it’s going to be an adventure. Or so I keep telling myself.

I just wish this adventure was starting out better.

The glorious, air-conditioned air hits me like a waterfall as I step inside, and I stop just past the door. I let the coolness envelop me, like a hug, raising my arms so it can reach every part of me. No doubt I look like a nutter, but who cares. My pits certainly don’t.

My phone vibrating in my back pocket disturbs my moment of bliss. I consider ignoring it, but then I remember that whoever is calling might be the answer I’m waiting on. I yank the device out of my pocket, eyes flying to the screen. My heart leaps at the name flashing across it. This beauty might not have an answer, but she will no doubt be understanding.

“Willa!”

“OMG, Bronwyn, you’re alive!”

“Was that in question? I thought I was just trapped.”

“Trapped at the airport, life in danger, same thing.”

I laugh, loving how this woman thinks.

Willa Hayes, director of corporate giving at Hayes Industries and the youngest of the Hayes siblings, is the person I’m looking forward to working with the most. Only a few months older than I am, she and I hit it off really well during my interview, and I could tell that we were going to be fast friends. Smart and quick-witted—one has to be with six older brothers—she isn’t afraid to speak her mind and get shit done. She’s my kind of gal.

“I’m sorry to be so much trouble right away.”

“Psssh. I’m sorry my brother left you in the lurch. I mean, what kind of a welcome to Georgia is that?”

“Not really Gus’s fault there are thunderstorms grounding all flights out of JFK.”

“Bronwyn, I’m the little sister. In my opinion and experience, it’s always Gus’s fault!”

I laugh again. It feels good coming off of all the worry and panic I was experiencing just before she called.

“I don’t have an older brother, so I’ll just trust you on that one.”

“Please do. Also, explain your text. The rental car was stolen? Who steals a rental car?”

“It wasn’t the rental that was stolen,” I tell her with a huffed-out laugh. “The rental car places are sold out, so I tried a car share app. You know, like Airbnb, but for cars.”

“Airbnb for cars. That sounds like a horrible gamble.”

“It is, but desperate times…”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever been that desperate. Anyway, I think I have this all solved.”

“Seriously?”

The Hayes family mentioned during my interview that Willa has a way of making things go her way. It’s not that I didn’t believe them, but until you see it in action, it’s the kind of thing that you just vaguely acknowledge. Apparently they weren’t kidding.