Chapter 51 Planned Chaos
Planned Chaos
The Plan
Savannah paced the living room like a woman preparing for battle.
Mallory, meanwhile, was thriving—sitting cross-legged on the couch, laptop open, radiating the kind of unshakable confidence that only someone with absolutely nothing to lose could possess.
"Alright," Mallory announced, typing furiously. "We need a strategy. A solid, foolproof plan. We know Chase is in Asheville. We know he’s free tomorrow night. And we know he has no idea you’re about to waltz in and throw an emotional grenade at his life. So, we have to make this count.”
Savannah stopped mid-pace, dragging a hand through her hair. “What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if this just—hurts him all over again?”
Mallory didn’t even look up. “Sav, I love you, but if you start spiraling, I will duct-tape your mouth shut and carry you to this bar myself.”
Savannah blinked. “You don’t have that kind of upper body strength.”
Mallory arched an eyebrow. “Try me.”
Savannah let out a strangled laugh, but Mallory pressed on, eyes gleaming with a mix of determination and unhinged enthusiasm.
"You want to see him. You need to see him. And we're making it happen."
Savannah exhaled, nodding. “Okay. What’s the plan?”
Mallory spun the laptop around with a flourish, revealing a website with sleek black-and-white photos of Chase’s hotel—a boutique spot in downtown Asheville that screamed classy but in a way that makes you wonder if the coffee costs $9.
“He’s staying here. Fifteen-minute walk from The Hollow. And before you even think about pulling a mysterious hotel lobby run-in, I am begging you to have some dignity.”
Savannah crossed her arms. “So what’s your genius plan?”
Mallory’s smirk was the stuff of legend.
“He’s meeting me at The Hollow. He’s never been there before, which means he’ll be completely out of his element. That’s where you come in.”
Savannah narrowed her eyes. “Define ‘out of his element.’”
Mallory’s grin widened.
"Oh, you’re gonna love this. This bar is…
weird. And I mean weird. The regulars function like a chaotic little cult.
The bartender, Gus, is convinced he can read your entire romantic history based on your drink order—he once told me I was ‘destined for a love triangle, but only if I stopped ignoring my chiropractor’s texts. ’”
Savannah’s lips twitched. “That’s—unsettlingly specific.”
“There’s also Earl.”
“—Who?” Savannah asked in confusion.
“Earl—A mysterious, elderly man who challenges every new male visitor to a round of darts. But here’s the kicker—he only speaks in riddles.”
Savannah groaned. “Oh my God.”
Mallory held up a finger. “And the jukebox is cursed.”
Savannah blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You don’t pick the song. The jukebox chooses for you. And it has an unreal ability to expose your emotional state. One time I went in after a breakup and it immediately blasted ‘It’s Too Late’ by Carole King. People applauded.”
Savannah stared. “This sounds like an actual nightmare.”
Mallory clapped her hands together. “Exactly. And when Chase inevitably looks like a lost puppy in the middle of all this chaos, you just happen to be there. Looking absolutely incredible. Offering to help him survive the madness.”
Savannah let out a long, exhausted sigh, rubbing her temples.
“So, to summarize: you’re throwing the man I love into a Twilight Zone-themed bar, hoping he panics, and my role is to be the sexy voice of reason?”
Mallory beamed. “Pretty much, yeah.”
Savannah groaned, letting her head fall back. “And if he doesn’t want to talk?”
Mallory shut the laptop, meeting Savannah’s gaze dead-on, all humor gone.
“Then you walk away knowing you tried. But Sav… I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Savannah swallowed hard.
Because despite the absurdity of it all, despite the nerves eating away at her, despite the fear of what if—
Deep down, she already knew.
He still loved her.
And tomorrow night?
She was going to find out just how much.
Savannah squared her shoulders. “Alright.”
Mallory grinned like a woman who had just engineered the world’s most chaotic but effective romantic scheme.
“Now, go try on outfits. I refuse to let you have a Cinderella moment while wearing sad beige.”