Chapter 19
I t’s Wednesday. Two days since Aiden and I solidified our friendship in the kitchen and went searching for Pumpkin in the orchard, and two days away from the start of the festival.
I am putting the finishing touches on the float in the late afternoon when I hear the door to the work barn open behind me.
It’s gotta be Aiden. We’ve been extremely civil and accommodating to each other these last two days. He’s been teasing me about going overboard on the festival details, and I’ve refused to change a thing.
“We’re not removing the stars and moon,” I say over my shoulder. He’s been trying to convince me to “tone down” the float. I have agreed to no such thing.
“Eleanor?” Both the voice and the name make me freeze.
I turn around slowly to see Geoff standing there.
I blink. What’s he doing here? I didn’t even realize he knew where my parents’ inn was.
He’s wearing white pants and a navy-and-white-striped sweater. He looks guilty. He looks conciliatory. He also looks dumb in white pants. He’s giving Where’s Waldo? Why did I date a guy who wears white pants? That’s on me. There is no excuse.
“Geoff.” I fold my arms tightly across my middle. I have my best resting bitch face popping. He will get no quarter from me. Maria’s voice is in my head. Hmm. Is it possible to get some rope and honey and ants around here? Chances are better here than in the city, for sure.
“Can we talk?” he says next.
I glance around. Aiden’s been gone for a while. He went to check on something in the hay barn. Argos went with him. This barn is empty except for me. If Geoff wants to talk, we might as well do it here. If we went to the food barn or the inn, we’d have an audience.
“Go ahead,” I say.
His shoulders relax slightly, as if he’d been expecting me to send him packing, and maybe I should have, but the truth is I am seriously curious about why he’s here. What can he possibly say to explain anything he’s done?
He walks toward me and comes to stand in front of me. He’s only a few inches taller than I am. I didn’t realize how short he was until I spent so much time with Aiden and Jesse.
“First, I want to say I’m sorry.” His voice sounds small.
It’s a decent start. But hardly forgiveness material. “Okay,” I say, knowing Maria would have told him to go eff himself by now.
“I was a real jerk. I did the wrong thing.”
“The wrong things ,” I say, because his mistakes are plural.
“Yeah, the wrong things.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and kicks at the hay on the ground. “The fact is, I should have broken up with you months ago.”
Wait. What? What kind of an apology is this? I don’t have time for nonsense. “Why are you here, exactly?” I ask. “Because I’m really busy.” I point to the float.
He shakes his head. “Sorry. Let me start again.” He cracks his knuckles. I always hated that. “I think we both know we were not madly in love.”
I grudgingly nod because yes, I have deduced this in the last two weeks.
“It just seemed so complicated to unravel all of it,” he says next.
I have to agree with that too. Working together and living together made a breakup three times as difficult. “You didn’t have to steal my presentation, though.”
He nods. “You’re right, and that’s what I’m really sorry for.”
“Okay.” I continue to eye him with complete distrust.
“Those were all your ideas, and they were great ones. I just got really excited by the notion that I could finally have a top account.”
“You could have waited until you’d earned one,” I point out.
His face falls. “I don’t have ideas like yours, Eleanor. You know that.”
“That’s not my fault, and call me Ellie.
” I surprise myself with that last part.
But I’ve realized something since I’ve been here.
Ellie was my name for twenty-one years, and I discarded it to impress people who weren’t worth impressing.
My real friends, the people here, call me Ellie.
Even Maria calls me El. It feels good to have a nickname.
Like I belong somewhere. Like I’ve got people.
People who like me enough to abbreviate my name.
Geoff frowns. “I screwed up. I know that. I told Steve the truth. Everything.”
My brows shoot up. “Really?” I’m gonna need proof before I believe that, of course.
“The Bolt Group event, all the vendors, it’s all messed up. I couldn’t keep track of everything. It’s going to be a disaster unless you come back.”
Oh, so that’s why he’s here. He screwed it all up and he needs me to put it back together again. Wow. And of course, Steve didn’t fire him for his deception. Classic.
But at least everything is falling apart without me. I can’t help but wonder if I manifested this. The day Maria came out to visit, I’d pretty much envisioned this exact turn of events. Hmm. Maybe I can manifest the honey and ants too.
I think he can tell by the look on my face that I’m not buying what he’s selling, because he quickly adds, “You don’t have to decide now. Steve is going to call you. He’s going to offer you a big raise and a promotion. You’ll be on the partner track.”
Partner track? I’m listening. I’m still pissed. But I’m listening.
“I’ll help you find an apartment if you want. You can stay with me until you do. Platonic, of course. I’ll sleep on the couch. Just please say you’ll think about coming back and taking over the Bolt Group event again.”
I tilt my head to the side and narrow my eyes at him. “The Bolt Group event is a week from Saturday. I can’t leave here until Sunday.”
“I know. I know,” he says. “I’ve seen the flyers. I saw all the social media that Maria’s been doing too. You can come up to Vermont on Sunday. You’ll have all week.”
“That’s not a lot of time to fix a mess,” I point out with a loud sigh.
“I know,” Geoff says. “But if anyone can do it, you can, Ellie. Steve’s gonna offer you a bonus too. A big one.”
A bonus sounds good. And if I agree to do this, it’s gonna have to be a big one, because I’m not cleaning up this fool’s mess for free. Or cheap. These jerks did me wrong. They can sweat while I consider it.
“Please, Eleanor, uh, Ellie. I need you. Steve needs you. GMJ needs you.”
I roll my eyes. Bet he thought of that line on the train ride out here.
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
Geoff’s shoulders slump in what I guess is relief that I’ve agreed to do that much.
“Are you going back to Brooklyn?” I ask. More to be polite than because I care.
“No. I’m staying for the festival. It looks like fun. The inn is booked, but I have a room at the motor lodge on the highway.”
I squelch my smile. The motor lodge on the highway is sketchy AF, but it’s where Geoff belongs. Because karma.
There will come a day. Perhaps months from now.
Perhaps years. When I sit down with Geoff (possibly over a pumpkin-spice latte that I order myself) and admit to the things I did wrong, like never listening to his ideas and pretty much barreling over him like a steamroller in most instances.
But that day is not today. Today is the day for him to grovel.
And I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.
“Okay, I’ll give you my answer by Sunday,” I tell him, still purposely smug.
“Thank you for considering it... Ellie.”