Chapter Seven
Tessa fought back tears in the elevator, hating that her body’s response to extreme anything—happiness, sadness, frustration, anger—all of it ended with her crying. Thankfully, she had a legitimate means for escape this time. Unlike Peyton, Tessa had a client meeting.
And after the way he’d chased her down and spoken to her, she would not, under any circumstances, help him with the Lilacs and Lace account.
In fact, upon threat of death, she would leave this mortal coil before assisting Peyton with anything short of a tragic fall into the river.
And she’d spend eternity proudly knowing she’d stood firm.
She checked her phone for missed messages, then scrolled social media while waiting for the elevator to load and unload at each floor on the way down.
Her feed wouldn’t fully update until she reached the lobby, but she could see earlier posts from both Hallie and Kate, which was all she really wanted.
Hopefully their first days of main character energy had gotten off to a better start than hers.
Hallie’s boss had been openly rude this morning, but at least she planned to quit and not return after the wedding.
Her upcoming nuptials would provide a welcome escape from many things, financial and emotional.
Which was fantastic, as long as she truly wanted to marry Bryce, something that seemed more in question than ever lately.
Divorce was miserable, even under the best of circumstances, so she hoped Hallie would choose exactly what she wanted, without influence from anything or anyone else.
Kate’s late-night post featured a compilation of photos taken at the rooftop bar. Under the image of the three holding their books, she added a caption: What would the main character in your life’s story do? Do you think you could make her choices for thirty days? What might happen if you did?
Her newest post was a close-up taken outside a coffee shop downtown.
Her lashes were thick and long, casting shadows across her cheeks in the bright morning light.
The picture showcased her freckles, usually obscured by a heavy filter or full-face makeup.
She wore a comfy brown romper over a long-sleeve cream top, no cashmere or designer label in sight.
She’d even traded her usual heels and handbag for knee-high socks with images of little fall leaves, loafers, and a canvas tote from the local orchard.
Tessa bobbed her head in appreciation. Sharing photos of the laid-back lifestyle Kate loved was a powerful start to embracing her own main character energy.
Her smile grew as the elevator reached its destination, and she headed into the day.
Tessa’s friends weren’t just supporting her on this quest. They were fighting right beside her for a life they loved, and that knowledge had her standing taller.
Kate and Hallie deserved to get exactly what they wanted from life.
And she loved that Kate had shared their big questions with her followers.
It was too bad that more people hadn’t responded to the post.
Change always comes with growing pains, she thought. She’d struggled for months to incorporate jogging into her life, but now she couldn’t imagine living without it. She just had to keep going until putting herself first instead of last became easy and instinctual.
She joined the throngs of people on the sidewalks, all in a hurry, all carrying something. Lattes or shopping bags, babies or street tacos. Tessa checked her phone again to make sure that Grant received her message. A small thumbs-up response confirmed he had.
She crossed the street near a caramel apple vendor and took the winding hike and bike trail toward the river.
A large brick patio broke up the gentle rolling hills of plush green grass in the distance.
Tables with matching wrought iron chairs and brightly colored umbrellas peppered the space beside a line of food trucks busily feeding the crowds.
She made her way over the cobblestone bridge and through the grass toward the tables as a local band played the opening notes to “Cotton Eye Joe.” A mass of children shifted into dance mode, wiggling and laughing to the high-energy tune.
Tessa did her best not to stumble when she spotted Grant in the distance.
He sat alone at a table near the water, one foot atop the opposite knee. Dark glasses covered his eyes, and he rose when he saw her.
She ignored the senseless flutter of anticipation in her chest. Food trucks and the river always excited her.
She blamed Hallie and her dad, respectfully, for that.
She’d grown up on the riverbanks, chasing butterflies by day and lightning bugs by night.
In high school, she’d shared her biggest confidences, her fears, and her dreams here, with friends and on dates.
Her excitement was natural. And it had nothing to do with Grant Gaines.
Probably.
“Hey,” he said. “Thanks for meeting me. You look—” He paused, offered a self-effacing grin, and shook his head, obviously thinking better of whatever he’d been about to say. “Happy.”
She fought against a laugh and lost. He’d noticed the flirty, feminine ensemble she’d chosen instead of her usual work attire. “Thanks,” she said. “I am. And I’m calling this my take-a-stand dress.”
“Ah.” He motioned for her to have a seat. “What are we taking a stand against today?”
“We?”
His lips slid into a full grin. “Whatever made your hit list, I’m in. Who’s going down?”
“Patriarchy.”
“A worthy cause,” he agreed. “In that dress, though—” He leaned slightly forward over the table, moving the sunglasses down his nose as he examined her red heels before returning to meet her stare. “You won’t need me. Patriarchy doesn’t stand a chance.”
Tessa laughed. “Let’s hope you’re right,” she said. “Tomorrow I’ll try to find my boots that are made for walking.”
The moment of eye contact sent waves of gooseflesh over her arms.
Grant eased back in his seat, returning his sunglasses to their proper position. “Thanks for meeting me on short notice. I hope my impulsive invite won’t deter you from working with me.”
“If your spontaneity gets me lunch by the river, I’ll allow it.” She tipped her chin to the sky, relishing the warm sun on her cheeks. “What prompted the lunch date?” she asked, cringing inwardly at her word choice.
His brows rose slightly. “I just wanted to buy you lunch.”
She opened her mouth to protest, or clarify, but he interrupted.
“As a professional, tax-deductible business expense,” he assured.
Something in his expression suggested his explanation wasn’t the whole truth. She decided to allow that too. “In that case, I’ll have two tamales.”
Several minutes later, Grant returned with two paper boats of tamales and two plastic-lidded cups of sangria. The Tico’s Tamales truck’s special of the day.
They ate in companionable silence for a few moments, Grant clearly enjoying the local band and Tessa sneaking peeks at the impressive view across her table.
Grant was taller than she remembered, and the wind in his slightly too-long brown hair gave him a youthful charm.
She tracked the fluffy strands as they lifted and fluttered against his forehead.
Then she gave herself a stern reminder that he was a customer and a human, not to be ogled, and went back to work on her tamales.
“You sold the bookstore,” she said, pausing for a sip of sangria.
Grant wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I did.”
She took time to appreciate the sweet, tart, and complex flavors before continuing. Rushing was a bad habit. She rushed through lunch too often. In fact, she should eat lunch by the river more. Maybe even bring her laptop and work at a table in the shade some afternoon.
Maybe the food trucks needed help with marketing.
“Tell me more about what you’re doing now,” she asked Grant. “How can I help?”
He watched her for a long moment, perhaps carefully choosing his words.
“Right now, I’m mostly investing and developing.
Owning the bookstore showed me how much I liked designing and growing a new business.
That’s how I slid into the investing arena.
I want to dream, fund, and implement, then step back and let the owners take over. ”
“Okay.” She crossed her legs and set a hand on her skirt to keep the wind from lifting it scandalously high. “Now you get to help others see their dreams come to fruition.”
A proud-father smile graced his wine-stained lips. “Exactly. These days, I vet and support a number of small businesses. I try to take on a new one, or two, every year. After the owners have repaid me for my initial investment, I use that capital to invest in more new owners.”
“Like Shark Tank.”
Grant paused to stare for one long beat before barking a sharp laugh.
“Kind of.” He shook his head, bemused. “On a much, much smaller, more community-minded scale.” He took a long beat to smile at her before going on.
“I stick to opportunities in Harbor Heights and support start-ups looking for modest amounts of cash.”
“How many businesses have you helped?” Tessa asked.
His brows pinched. “Altogether?”
The wind picked up, and she tugged windblown hair from her eyes, then looped it behind one ear. “Yeah.”
She liked getting to know Grant outside the office.
Without the pretense and pressure of playing their professional roles.
Here, things felt more natural, easy, and honest. She could be herself.
A smart, creative, talented agent who could help him reach his marketing goals.
Even while drinking sangria for lunch and wearing a pretty dress and heels.
“Fourteen.”
She gaped. “Fourteen?” That was so many. “How is that possible in such a short period of time?”
Grant shrugged. “I’ve been successful at choosing businesses that thrive and building relationships with each of the owners so we can lean on one another as we grow.”
“Wow,” Tessa said. She eased back in her chair, enjoying the flutter of her hair in the breeze.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, leaning forward to anchor his elbows on their table.
“You’re really lucky,” she said. “Finding something you love to do and do exceptionally well is uncommon. Usually, people get one or the other. They love cooking but aren’t exactly gifted at it, so they have to get a job near a kitchen, not in one.
Or they’re gifted with numbers but loathe their jobs in accounting, so they go home every night dissatisfied. You hit the jackpot. You get both.”
“What about you?” Grant asked. “It’s obvious you love what you do, and you’re very good at it. I know because you helped me launch the bookstore into outer space with that grand opening. I’ve applied all the same strategies to each new business I acquire, and they’ve all grown by leaps and bounds.”
Her smile grew. “Really?”
He nodded. “It’s the reason I came back to Hello, Marketing. I need your help again. But am I right? Do you love it?”
She wet her lips, delighted by his compliment. Authentic words of affirmation were her personal catnip. A kind statement about something as important to her as her job? She would die in battle for this man if he kept it up.
“Tessa?” Grant prompted when she didn’t respond.
“Sorry. Yes,” she said, feeling a strange tug of emotion. “I love what I do.”
“Good.” He sat back, big hands dragging slowly across the table in his wake.
He removed his glasses a moment later and squinted against the midday sun.
“I know it’s not in your job description, but I wonder if you might give some feedback on local office spaces?
If memory serves, you’re a bit of a Harbor Heights aficionado. ”
Another compliment. “I’d love that. Do you already have a place in mind?”
“I have three.”
She laughed. “Of course you do.”
“I only need one,” he clarified. “I’m torn, because each has its own pros and cons.”
“Will the space be for a new business or—”
“For me,” he said. “I want to advertise what I do, and I need a place to meet and interview business owners. Someplace I can set up an office and manage all the investments.”
She nodded.
“I can send you links to each of the listings.”
“Perfect.” Tessa dotted the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “I’ll take a look, do some research of my own, then drive by any of the locations I’m not already familiar with.”
“All right.” Grant’s gaze moved to her left hand, as it had on the day he came to her office. “How have you avoided a tan line?”
She puzzled a moment before fixing him with a stern expression. “Are you trying to ask me about my wedding ring or my marital status?”
His eyes widened, then the startled expression fell into a cringe. “Sorry. That was out of line. It’s none of my business.”
Was it her imagination, or was Grant Gaines interested in her too? “It’s okay,” she said. “I can appreciate a healthy curiosity.”
He laughed.
“You’ll never know if you don’t ask.”
“You wore a wedding ring before,” he said. “I noticed. Now it’s gone. I noticed that too. I’m a noticer.”
“But you still haven’t asked a question.”
He wrinkled his nose and looked away. “I don’t think I should. Why don’t we pretend I didn’t put my foot in my mouth?” He turned back to her, an apologetic expression on his face. “I hope you’re not offended.”
“I’m not.”
“Married or offended?” he asked.
An indelicate snort came from Tessa. “Neither,” she admitted.
“I don’t offend easily, because I tend to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, which sometimes comes back to bite me, but in any case, I’m not offended.
And I’ve been divorced for quite a few years. We married too young. It was amicable.”
Interest glinted in Grant’s cool-blue eyes. “Now you’re just out here fighting the patriarchy.”
“Correct.”
They enjoyed the music and dancing children for a few more minutes, then cleaned up their lunches when the band called an intermission.
Tessa gave Grant another one of her business cards before they parted ways. “Thank you for lunch,” she said. “You’ll only catch me in the office from eight until five moving forward. But you can reach me by text or email anytime.”
“Noted.” Grant lifted a hand in goodbye.
Tessa walked back to the office feeling lighter and more carefree than she had in far too long. Partly because her thirty days of change were off to a great start, but also because a very handsome, successful businessman had spent the last hour flirting with her, and she shamelessly adored it.