49. Isabella
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
ISABELLA
After being thoroughly distracted by Nick, I’m in a rush to make it to the walkthrough of the event. It doesn’t start until tonight, but I need to ensure everything is going exactly as it should.. Despite the fact that I’d love to have some of Georgie’s tea right now.
As I make my way through the booths, I poke my head in with the vendors to see if anyone needs help.
I check in with Juliette from the bookstore, who begged me to sell her kitschy mushroom people she makes out of clay.
I check on the food stalls—with the twins, Brielle and Carter from Ocean’s Tide, who brought out some local seafood.
I even touch base with the band as they set up on stage.
Not a single thing seems to go wrong—which is unbelievably strange.
The unwritten law of event planning is that something always goes wrong, which is why you have backup plans—and then backups for those backups.
You plan for someone to blow a fuse. You plan for someone to forget an integral part of their booth.
You plan for the lead singer of the band to get a cold.
But none of my contingency plans are necessary today.
“You’re welcome.” The familiar, mystery-laden voice belonging to Old Lady Clover floats over my shoulder. I turn, greeted by a self-satisfied smirk, and try not to shiver. Will the woman ever not scare me?
“I’m guessing I have you to thank for the smoothness of today?” I want her to know that even though she’s terrifying, I’m grateful for her help.
She nods solemnly, sweeping her eyes over the stage. “This town deserves a good day. You do, too.”
Affection blooms in my chest for the woman who emailed me about this job in the first place. The reason why I made it to this town at all. “Why me? You brought me here, and you made sure this event went off without a hitch. Why?”
She fusses with the chain around her neck. “You’ll know soon enough. But you were worth the effort.”
My lungs threaten to deflate with the weight of those five words. You were worth the effort.
I swipe away the lone tear that threatens to fall down my cheek. “Thank you.”
She turns but stops herself. “Oh, and Isabella?”
“Hmm?”
“He’s a good man.” She shakes her head. “Despite getting in his own way. Remember that.”
The shiver I’ve been fighting off works its way down my spine as she glides away. What in the world was that about? I know Nick is a good man, but why do I need to remind myself of that?
At present, I don’t have time to dwell on her words—or the implication of them. Despite everything going well, I want everyone to see me in action and know they can come to me if they need help.
I do another lap, helping Veronica Wildes—or as I will forever call her, Veronica Pasta—set up and listening to a couple of minutes of Howler’s Edge’s sound check.
“Shit!”
The expletive calls my attention, and I make my way behind one of the booths to find Dane, blood pooling on his thumb.
“Oh my gosh!” I rush forward and whip a Band-Aid out of my purse. “Are you okay?”
Dane’s dark brown eyes sweep over me as his eyebrows raise, as if he’s surprised to see me here. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a thorn I forgot to cut off.”
“May I?” I lift the Band-Aid.
I don’t know what it is about Dane, but I get the impression he’s not super comfortable around me.
We discussed him decorating the booths over email, despite my request to come to the shop.
He kept saying I had better things to be doing with my time and not to bother with him.
I wouldn’t want to touch him without his permission.
He nods slowly, holding out his finger.
I wrap the Band-Aid around it, taking care to touch him as little as possible, and step back. “There.”
He takes a deep breath, grimacing. I wonder how deeply the thorn pierced his skin. “I need to apologize to you, Isabella.”
My eyes jump back up to his. Apologize? To me? We’ve never even spoken in person before. “You do?”
“Yes.” He stares at his finger for a moment before shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Honestly? I’ve been a little jealous since you’ve arrived in Lunamois.”
Please tell me Dane doesn’t have feelings for Nick.
I cock my head. I don’t think I could emotionally handle coming between Nick and his best friend.
“I’ve always wanted a partner. To find my mate. It’s been hard for me, and watching how quickly you and Nick connected? It’s been tougher than I thought it would be.”
Mate. I haven’t heard that word before.
The confusion must play on my face because Dane coughs. “I mean. You know. Girlfriend. Future wife…person.”
I cock my head at him. Strange. “I’m sorry, Dane. I understand loneliness all too well.”
I try to focus on his vulnerability, the fact that he would admit this to me, instead of the feeling of dread thickening in my stomach.
“I am glad you’ve found each other,” he says, cheeks slightly pink. He rubs the back of his neck and inclines his head back to his flower buckets. “I’ll finish up here and then get started on the tables and stage. Thank you for putting this together, Isabella.”
I watch as he continues, lining handmade multi-flower garlands along the booths and scattering the ground with orange, red, and yellow rose petals.
As we finalize every last detail, an anxious excitement fills my belly like a balloon ready to pop, mixing with that weird feeling that something strange is going on.
This is it.