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“Querido, we really wish you’d reconsider. This business is perfect for you. It’s entirely physical. You can hire someone to do the parts that are hard for you. You can hire an accountant, a front desk clerk, someone to keep records. All you have to do is spin around the room with one girl after another.” His mother demonstrated with one of her graceful moves.
“Not so hard, is it, buddy?” His father gave him that big old charming smile that he beamed down at every woman he twirled across the floor.
“I don’t want to run a dance studio. I want to do something different than that.”
“Different how?”
He thought hard about how to put it. “Life-saving.”
“Mi caro, you’d never get through medical school. This is not an option for you.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to be a doctor.” But he wouldn’t have minded it. Doctor, or maybe a nurse. On camping trips, he was always the one who knew what to do if someone sprained their ankle or burned themselves on a smoldering log. He’d even splinted his buddy’s broken arm after he’d fallen into a ravine. Then he’d helped get him up the rocks back onto the trail. Maybe he could be an ER doctor. He was good in a crisis. Everyone else freaked out, but he never seemed to.
“You need to be realistic,” said his father, serious now. “With your issues in school, you need to lower your expectations, son. Not everyone can be a superstar. Some of us just try to bring a little fun into the world. That’s what we do. Why can’t you be happy with that? Everyone loves you. Be happy with that.”
Well, he was happy. But he’d also proven his parents wrong. Just like Thomas said, he’d done the work it took to become a firefighter, and he was really fucking good at it. But it was hard not to take those long-ago lectures from his parents to heart. Not everyone can be a superstar. Some people are just here to bring a little fun into the world.
Was that where it began and ended for him?
Six
Kendra’s first meeting with the hiring committee didn’t go well. They kept coming back to her lack of experience planning big events.
“Let me prove I can handle it,” she offered. “Give me an event. Any event. A square dance. A silent auction. A five-mile run. A blood drive. Anything. Watch me in action.”
“Do you even know what events the town sponsors?” Betty Bannister asked. Betty was nearly eighty, which made her one of the younger members of the board.
“Of course I do.” She’d rattled them off, starting with the iconic Sunburn Fest in May and going all the way through the Winter Carnival. “But I think we should have even more. If I get this job, I’ll be researching more potential events for the winter season. I’ve already started a list. I know what it’s like here in the winter, it’s very bor—I mean, quiet. A lot of businesses struggle to make it to spring. There’s no reason we can’t be drawing tourists here year-round. It would be good for business, good for the tax base, good for the kids who grow up here.”
She deliberately emphasized her local roots, since rumor had it her competitors were all from out of town.
They exchanged glances that ranged from impressed to amused. “You have a lot of energy and ideas, don’t you?”
“I do.” She paused. “I hope that’s not a problem.”
“No no, of course not.”
But it was. She learned that fact when she ran into Jason at the SweetBitter Café. In his work pants and dark blue Lake Bittersweet FD t-shirt, he looked as delicious as the fresh pastries.
He told her that his spy had informed him that more than one member of the committee was worried that she might shake things up too much.
“Shoot. I should have known I was coming on too strong. I tend to do that when I’m nervous. Right before I went in, my mother called and warned me about that. I should have listened.” She bit her lip as she took her blackberry muffin from Rick Sanchez, the café owner.
“No charge, buttercake.” Rick blew her a kiss and a wink. “Not when you’re looking so blue.”
“Buttercake?” she murmured to Jason as they left the café and stepped into the heat of the last day in June. “I seriously can’t tell if that’s a compliment or an insult.”
“Everyone loves butter and cake, so I’d go with compliment.” His tall form paced easily next to her. Ever since that night at Mariano’s, she’d been hyper-aware of Jason. Every time a fire truck rolled past, she perked up and checked to see if Jason was onboard. It was pretty ridiculous and made her feel like a teenager with a crush. She hadn’t been like that with Dominic. They’d simply slid into a relationship as if it was destined.
“Should I have toned it down in my interview?” She broke off the top of the muffin, then offered the bottom part to Jason.
“No way. It’s only the old relics who are afraid of change. The other people on the committee think you’re great. Just so you know, Thomas had to recuse himself from the decision because you’re so close to Carly. But he’s keeping tabs on it for me.”
He took the muffin from her and looked at her oddly. “Something wrong with this part?”
“Yes. It doesn’t have sugar sprinkles.” She wrinkled her nose at him as she bit into the top. “Generally I give my muffin bottoms to my dad, because he’s not supposed to eat too much sugar. But you’re here, so…” She shrugged.
“Wow, can I get that on my tombstone? ‘He was there, so…’” With a laugh, he bit into the muffin.
