28. Jami
Jami
My stomach knots tighter with every wheel of my luggage through the bustling chaos of Toronto Pearson Airport. The echo of rolling suitcases on the tile, the jostling crowds, and the endless announcements blur into a dizzying symphony of stress.
But I’m not sure if it’s nerves about my meeting with Elise’s buyer friend that has me on edge—or the image of her and Brody waving me off, sunlight glinting off his hair, her hand lingering on his arm as they smiled at me with that quiet, knowing look.
I can’t seem to scrub it from my mind. She hurt him, and I know it.
I’m pretty sure he’s still in love with her.
So if she’s back, trying to make things right… shouldn’t I be glad?
Sure, if your chest wasn’t already aching with your own feelings for him.
The sharp vibration of my phone cuts through the thrum of the airport, and I fumble to grab it, relief washing over me when I see it’s Jaxon. I told him not to see me off at the airport—no reason for him to sit awkwardly in the truck while Brody and Elise took over.
I swipe, my thumb hesitating just a second before I answer. “Hello, big brother.”
“Hey. Good to hear your voice. I was tracking your flight and saw you landed.”
My heart thumps. “I made it,” I say.
He must hear something in my voice because he asks, “You doing okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, hoisting my carry-on bag higher on my shoulder. “Got my luggage, now about to grab an Uber.” I step outside, squinting into the blazing afternoon sun. Heat radiates off the pavement and the hum of the airport surrounds me. “It’s much warmer here.” I begin to sweat in my winter coat.
He laughs, low and teasing. “Warmth is overrated. You’ll learn that fast.”
“Whatever you say, big brother.” I duck under the shade of a nearby awning, letting a moment of calm wash over me.
“Come on,” he nudges. “Admit it. You miss this place already.”
“I miss you,” I say, smirking despite myself. “And pie.”
I miss Brody too. His easy smile, the way his humor flickers in his eyes, the quiet, soft touches that leave me breathless.
Breathe, Jami.
He chuckles on the other end. “Yeah, well, we all miss you too. So go knock this guy dead and get back here safe.”
“We?” My voice softens, and I can’t help but feel a pang.
“Yes. We. All of us. Now, go.”
“I’ll do my best, but Jaxon…”
“Yeah?”
The sudden rush of someone hurrying past sends me wobbling in my heels. I catch my balance and gulp. “Do you…do you really think I should do this?”
His voice, steady and teasing, cuts through my doubt. “A little late to be asking that now, don’t you think? You just landed in Toronto.”
I glance up at the towering glass-and-steel skyline in the distance, the airport buzzing with taxis as people bustle about. Toronto is alive in a way Churchill Falls never could be—and somehow, even though I grew up in a city, it feels like I no longer belong in one.
My damn heart is tangled up in Churchill Falls.
“Yeah, I guess it’s too late to turn back now.
” It might be too late to be second guessing everything, but something about all this…
I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right. I’ve always wanted my own line, that little spark of independence I’ve carried since forever.
But the thought of scaling up, doing things on a big scale…
my stomach twists at the idea. Deep down, I think I’ve always imagined a boutique of my own—a small, personal space where everything is exactly how I want it.
And, as much as I hate to admit it, there’s still that stubborn child inside me, still trying to impress her parents, still hoping they’ll see me.
Damn.
“Jami,” Jaxon’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts, pulling me back.
“Yeah?” I murmur.
“It’s actually not too late. You don’t have to do this, you know,” he says, and the warmth in his tone is tinged with something serious. “You can just… turn around and come back home.”
Home.
The word hits me like a jolt. Churchill Falls does feel like home now—the quiet streets, the familiar faces, the smell of pine and fresh snow—but I can’t stay there if Brody and Elise are back together. Not and still keep my heart intact.
“I’m here now,” I say, almost to myself.
“I might as well at least give this a shot and hear what he has to say. I mean…can you imagine how many designers would kill to get a private interview like this? It has to be rare, Jaxon. I can’t even believe it’s happening to me.
” I pause, my fingers tracing the edge of my phone.
“I should be respectful and go. Heck, he might not even like the designs, or the price point, or even think he could sell them…”
And truthfully…I’m still not sure I’m ready for my clothes to hang on a department store rack.
There’s a pause on the other end. “Okay,” Jaxon says finally. “Call me when you’re done. Let me know how it’s going.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’m going to grab an Uber. Talk soon.”
I hang up and tap open the Uber app, entering the address Elise had given me. Three minutes later, a sleek black sedan pulls up. The driver hops out with a polite nod.
“Jami?” he asks.
“That’s me,” I say, lifting my bag. He takes it carefully, placing it in the trunk, and the click of the latch sends a small jolt of anticipation up my spine. I slide into the back seat, my heart still bouncing in my chest as he slides into the driver’s seat and pulls out onto the street.
As we drive, the city stretches out alive and pulsing. Traffic hums steadily, just as chaotic as I imagined. Horns honk and the occasional shout cut through the morning air. Toronto is louder than Halifax. Bigger. Faster. And yet, as I watch the streets unfold, I realize…I’m not sure I missed this.
The driver takes a slow curve, and I lean back, phone in hand, considering a message to Brody.
But he’s probably busy at work, already deep in his day.
I let out a sigh that seems to hang in the car, soft against the drone of the engine, and catch the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
I smile faintly before turning back to watch the city pass.
Rowhouses with peeling paint, vibrant cafés spilling onto the sidewalks, mid-rise office buildings reflecting the sunlight.
I think about texting Lauren, but it’s early afternoon and she’s probably already lost in her own work.
A hollowness creeps in, subtle but insistent, a quiet tug of uncertainty.
Where do I belong? Maybe this meeting…maybe this is the thing I need.
Something to give me focus, to fill the ache that lingers inside me.
The car takes a sharp turn and Bathurst Street opens up ahead, the sidewalks busier now. The street is dotted with small shops and cafés, a patchwork of old brick and brightly painted facades. The city hums around me, and I lean forward.
Finally, the driver slows, and I catch sight of the building. A modest commercial space, mid-sized, its windows catching the sunlight just so. My heart jumps. This is it. The place that might change things I’m not sure I want to change.
“We’re here,” the driver says.
“Perfect, thank you.” I gather my carry-on bag as he grabs my suitcase from the trunk, the wheels bumping against the curb.
I have a small Airbnb booked for the night, but there’s no sense stopping there first—the suitcase carries my samples, the pieces I need for the meeting. I can’t afford to waste time.
I open the heavy glass doors and step inside the building.
The lobby is quiet, the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead mixing with the faint echo of footsteps on the tiled floor.
I find the elevator and press the button for the third floor.
Up I go. I reach my floor, and the hallway is eerily calm, a few doors lining the hallway with nameplates glinting in the muted light.
I stop in front of one: Elliot Kane. My hand hesitates on the polished metal handle before I push the door open.
Inside, a woman sits behind a sleek, modern desk. Her head lifts as I enter, eyes flicking over me with a mixture of curiosity and mild confusion. I plaster on a smile that feels fragile.
“Hi, I’m Jami Grant. I have a private meeting with Mr. Kane.”
Her brow furrows. “Mr. Kane is away on business.” She types something quickly into her computer, the sharp clicks echoing in the quiet room. “Are you sure there was a private meeting?”
“Positive,” I reply, forcing calm into my voice, though my heart starts hammering in my chest. My God, did I get this wrong? Did Elise? I fumble for my phone, opening my calendar to double-check. “It was for today, two o’clock.”
The woman glances at my screen, then hers. “Oh, dear. I don’t have anything on the calendar for today.” Her fingers clatter against the keyboard with a little panic in her rhythm.
“My friend set it up. Elise Jennings. She’s a friend of Mr. Kane’s. She arranged this.”
The name seems to give the receptionist pause. She taps at the keyboard again, slower this time. “Elise Jennings. I’m not familiar with her.”
“She’s a costume designer. Went to design school here in Toronto. She met him when he visited the campus to talk to the students.” I keep my voice steady, but inside, panic prickles at the edges of my mind.
“Okay,” the woman responds, but her tone is skeptical. After a moment, she leans back slightly, her voice dropping as if she’s delivering bad news carefully. “Jami… Mr. Kane rarely takes private meetings and he doesn’t do visits to the local campus. Are you sure you have the right buyer?”
My stomach twists into knots, a sharp ache pressing behind my eyes. My head starts to throb. “Will he be back soon? I’m sure we can get this all straightened out.”
“He’s out of town. Won’t be back until next week. I can mention this to him when he calls, but in the meantime, perhaps you should call your friend.”
“I will. Thank you.” My voice is small, barely hiding the panic and disappointment curling in my chest. I pick up my phone, feeling the weight of my carry-on bag and my own nervous energy pressing down on me.
The receptionist offers a tight smile, a hint of pity in her eyes, and I force a nod in return. As my mind races. Elise…what did she tell him? Did she forget? Did he forget? Or…did I just completely misread everything?
I’m about to leave, and I must look a mess, on the brink of tears, mascara threatening to streak, hair sticking to my forehead from the heat and nerves, when the receptionist says, gently, “Did you travel from far?”
I swallow hard, the knot in my throat almost choking me, and manage a small, shaky laugh. “Churchill Falls, Labrador.”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh my, you did.” Her smile is soft, motherly, the kind I’ve always craved, the kind I’d do just about anything to receive from my own mother. “I’m sorry about this mix-up, Jami. I wish there was more I could do.”
I force a smile and step outside, needing desperately to talk to Elise. But I don’t have her phone number. Why the heck didn’t I get her phone number?
Dragging my luggage down the busy street, I squint at the city around me—the honk of horns, the chatter of pedestrians, the scent of fresh bread and coffee from cafés spilling onto the sidewalk.
I scan for the cute café I spotted earlier, my heels clicking against the pavement, each step heavier than the last. My feet ache, my nerves fray, but I push on.
Inside the café, it takes forever to get a coffee and I have to wait for a seat.
I finally get one and slide into a quiet corner, the steam from the cup rising as I try to calm my shaking.
I need to talk to Elise, and the best way to do that is through Brody.
But first, I’m going to drink my coffee to calm myself down.
God, the pity on the receptionist’s face, I’m still embarrassed.
After a long time, I pull up Brody’s number and hit call. The phone rings once…twice… three times… Just as I’m about to hang up, a breathless voice answers.
“Hello?”
My heart nearly stops. “Elise?”
“Yes… who’s this?”
She doesn’t recognize my voice?
“It’s me. Jami.”
“Oh… Jami…” Her voice goes muffled, like she’s covering the phone, words not meant for me. A moment later, she comes back. “Sorry about that. What’s going on?”
“The meeting,” I blurt out. “There was no meeting.” She laughs, soft, casual, oblivious to the tremor in my voice. “Did you hear me?”
“Oh yes, I heard you. That’s strange.”
That’s all she has to say?
I take a breath, my hands tightening around the phone. “I talked to the receptionist. Mr. Kane is out of town. There was no meeting. She said she didn’t even recognize your name and that he doesn’t visit the local campus.”
A lightbulb flickers in my brain, sharp, blinding…sickening.
Oh. My. God.
Is history actually repeating itself and I was sent away while everything I love is taken from me? Have I learned nothing from the past?
“Elise…was there ever a meeting?” My voice shakes.
“Well, of course there was. Clearly there’s a mistake. The receptionist was probably new. Maybe he no longer goes to the campus. It’s all just a mistake.”
Yeah…the mistake was believing her. She wanted me out of the way, and she damn well got what she wanted. I pinch the bridge of my nose as tears sting my eyes, threatening to spill over.
But then—something else hits me. She answered Brody’s phone. A part of me, the part that knows Brody is too good a man to ever do this to me, refuses to believe what my heart is screaming.
“Can I talk to Brody?” Her voice is muffled again, like her hand is over the receiver. “Elise, is Brody there?” I demand, impatient, desperate.
More giggles. “Um…he’s a little tied up right now.”
A little tied up?
That unwanted image floods my mind and the coffee I just swallowed threatens to betray me. My heart wobbles inside my chest. My tears spill freely now, running hot down my cheeks.
Brody. The man I’d fallen for. The man who was quick to book my flights, quick to tell me I should go…the man who didn’t ask me to stay when I so desperately wanted to hear those words from his mouth. How can any of this be true?
The facts are there girlfriend…
But still, I need to talk to someone.
Jaxon.
He’s the one I’d normally run to.
But how can I now?
How can I possibly go back to the northern town if I’m not wanted?
As I sit there, sorting through everything that happened from the minute I landed in Churchill Falls to sitting inside a café in Toronto, one question pounds relentlessly in my brain, echoing over the noise of the busy street outside.
Where do I go from here?