Chapter 7
SEVEN
HILARY
Hilary wanted to kick herself—literally—for inviting Darby to the ribbon-cutting ceremony.
It was her own fault. Darby had been so hesitant on the phone.
She’d ghosted Hilary in email for weeks.
Hilary should have trusted her gut, but the mayor and city council had insisted that she do something to honor Jim.
She had suggested a permanent plaque in the park or a slideshow collage of photos through the years.
They’d vetoed the slideshow in favor of speeches and inviting Darby.
The plaque was a go, but that didn’t solve her immediate problem.
Who was going to speak tonight? As in just a few minutes from now?
Panic began to well as her eyes darted through the growing crowd. There had to be close to a thousand people already meandering through the vendor booths. The anticipatory hum of the crowd buzzing like bees awoken too early from their winter hibernation filled the air.
The agenda had been worked and reworked down to the minute.
Hilary scanned the crowd again. The mayor was on his way from the city council meeting and wouldn’t arrive until just before his allotted time.
But the mayor had a reputation for ripping into anyone if they weren’t prepared for meetings.
She and the mayor had gotten off to a bad start.
Hilary suspected it was because of Passport to the Holidays.
The scavenger hunt was a Chamber of Commerce event. Her event.
Her staff had warned her from day one that the mayor liked to always be in the center spotlight and apparently had tried to take control of the event.
But Hilary could handle him. She didn’t need accolades or praise, but she did need him to stay in his own lane.
She’d ensured he had plenty of time in the spotlight over the next ten days.
He’d probably find a way to take credit for the event’s success.
That was fine with her as long as Passport to the Holidays was a success.
Maybe she could snag a Chamber of Commerce member to jump in and take Darby’s place. But who?
Her pinky had turned white from the cold.
She shook it with force, trying to get feeling back.
Her watch buzzed to life with a warning.
She had set reminders to go off every five minutes, counting down to the kickoff.
She had exactly twenty minutes to find someone who not only could give a speech on the fly but who knew the history of Passport to the Holidays and, at the very least, knew something about Jim.
Think, Hilary.
Her phone vibrated in her jacket pocket.
She reached inside to see Ben’s face flashing on her screen.
She didn’t have time to talk. Not now. She hit Decline and continued to weave her way through the throng of people.
The marching band funneled in formation, playing “Jingle Bells” as they high-stepped toward the amphitheater.
Crap.
She was running out of time.
A text message dinged on her phone, followed by another, and then another. All from Ben.
God. What does he want?
Hilary glanced at her screen. Ben was blowing up her phone. Sometimes she almost wondered if he was trying to sabotage her new career. It’s not as if he wasn’t acutely aware of how important tonight was for her.
“Hilary.” Ben’s voice echoed in her head.
Great, now she was hearing his voice everywhere.
I’m really starting to lose it, she thought as she turned away from the band.
“Hilary, I’m right here.” Ben appeared like an apparition from behind an unsuspecting group dressed in matching candy cane stocking hats.
His shaggy blond hair fell over his left eye.
He was dressed in his usual attire: well-worn jeans, a wool sweater with a vest over the top, and snow boots.
Ben was like a human form of a golden retriever—easy-going, affable, capable of running for miles without so much as breaking a sweat, and just a little too blissfully unaware of how the real world worked sometimes.
He removed a bouquet of velvet red roses dotted with sprigs of seeded eucalyptus from behind his back. The same flowers from their wedding. The same flowers he’d bought for her for every birthday and holiday. “Surprise and congratulations.” He thrust the flowers at her.
What was she going to do with a bouquet of flowers now?
She started to take the roses from him, a touch of irritation she couldn’t control creeping into her tone. “What are you doing here?”
He looked at her like she’d just punched him in the stomach. “I came to cheer you on.” The bouquet fell to his side.
“Look, thanks, that’s sweet, but I don’t have time right now.
Darby’s backing out on me. She was supposed to give a speech about the origin of the event and pay tribute to Jim.
I slotted fifteen minutes for her. I’ve been running around trying to find someone to fill in.
” The alarm on her watch blared again. She tapped it to silence the beeping.
“And now I have ten minutes before I’m supposed to be on stage welcoming everyone. ”
“Okay, calm down. Take a breath.” Ben inhaled through his nose like a yoga instructor.
She scowled. She wasn’t one of his clients and didn’t need a pep talk about “raising her vibration” and not sinking into stress right now.
“Why don’t you do it?” Ben suggested brightly.
“Me?” Hilary made a face. Cheerful melodies resonated through the winter landscape as people clapped with the band. She was running out of time.
“Yeah, you’ve been up until two or three in the morning for the last month prepping for this.
I guarantee you there’s no one more qualified on the planet to talk about the history of the scavenger hunt.
” Ben had shifted into coach mode. Pep talks were part of his DNA.
He spent the bulk of his days cheering on his personal training clients.
Hilary used to appreciate his endless enthusiasm.
Lately, it annoyed her. She wished that he would let her feel sad about the twins.
Instead, whenever missing the kids came up, he gave her his “you’ve got this” schtick he used to motivate his clients to jog an extra mile or lift ten more pounds.
“It’s supposed to be a tribute to Jim, though,” Hilary protested.
“Exactly.” Ben’s tone was upbeat, the ultimate cheerleader, sounding like he was rallying one of his personal training clients through one last brutal rep. “You’re a professional. Go up there and do your thing.”
She snuck another look at her watch. She was out of alternatives. Ben was right. Public speaking came naturally to her. It was a necessity as president of the Chamber of Commerce. It was more that she didn’t want to overstep. After all, she was only in this role because Jim had died.
“You’re right,” she admitted, hating that she couldn’t think of an alternative plan. Preparing for every possible outcome was usually her superpower. Not tonight. “I should go.”
“Wait, your flowers.” Ben lifted the bouquet and leaned in to kiss her.
Hilary turned at the exact moment. His kiss landed on her cheek. “Sorry, I really have to get up there.” She grabbed them and hurried away without another word or backward glance.