Chapter 19
NINETEEN
NADIA
We spent the next hour of the planning meeting on the structural work, which had sent Cole and Daemon back upstairs to watch more sport with Josh.
Coordination protocols. Revenue splits. A tiered package system that gave clients options without overwhelming them.
Matthew had questions about licensing for the bundled photography rights that turned into a twenty-minute sidebar with Angie, who'd dealt with similar contracts before.
Bea wanted to know about equipment liability across bundled events. Cherie asked about lead times for custom gowns when clients booked through the collective rather than directly.
I moved through it the way I moved through any event. One dependency at a time. The room had the feel of people who'd been anxious and were now channeling it somewhere useful.
Then Angie flagged something I hadn't considered. "What about clients who are mid-process with one of us? If I've already started teaching someone their first dance, do they have to re-book through the collective, or does their existing booking grandfather in?"
"Existing bookings stay exactly as they are," I said. "The collective is for new business. Nobody loses what they've already built."
That mattered to people. I watched a small shift move around the circle.
"One more thing," I said, as the structural work wound down. "Elevate will respond to this. They won't like it, and when they figure out what we're up to, they'll escalate. We need to be ready."
"Let them try," Kelly said. "We've got documentation. We've got each other. And we've got someone in this room who used to prosecute exactly this sort of thing." She nodded toward Angie, who smiled in a way I suspected had put the fear of God into those she'd faced in court.
Bea was busy writing something in her folder. Matthew had pulled out his phone to photograph the timeline on Kelly's laptop screen. Cherie was exchanging numbers with Skye.
The meeting ended with people who were no longer uncertain and whose minds were made up. Not reckless. Not naively optimistic. They filtered out through the hallway and across the shop floor in ones and twos, until only Daisy, Skye, Kelly, and I remained in the kitchen.
Skye was the next to leave. I joined her just inside the corner doors of The Daisy Chain while she waited for Seth, who'd texted to say he was on his way.
She'd pulled on her jacket but hadn't done it up, the way people didn't when they were still in the middle of something and the outside world hadn't quite reclaimed them yet.
"Can I say something?" she asked.
"Of course."
"When Gail left," she said, "I told myself it was fine. That I'd figure it out, hire someone else, keep going. The army of one thing." She looked back through the shop to the kitchen. "I think I'd been doing that since before Elevate showed up."
She said it without self-pity, as an observation she'd arrived at sometime in the last hour and hadn't quite processed yet.
"Me too," I said.
She nodded once, then did up her jacket as Seth pulled up outside. "See you soon."
After she left, I returned to the kitchen where Daisy was loading cups into the dishwasher. Kelly was breaking down her setup at the workbench, sliding papers into a folder with productive economy.
"You did well tonight," Kelly said without looking up.
"We all did."
"We did." She closed the folder. "But you're the one who knew what questions to ask and when to stop talking so people could hear themselves answer." She looked at me then. "That's not nothing, Nadia. That's actually hard to do."
She was right. I knew she was right, even though I struggled to accept it. We'd done something real tonight. Created something that could actually work, and I didn't know what to say to that.
Nor had I thought of anything by the time she said her goodbyes and left. It was while watching her cross the shop floor that Daemon and Cole appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
Rather than join Daisy and me in the kitchen, they headed for the shop, the heavy front doors opening and closing soon after.
We'd driven here separately, but Daemon leaving without a word still hurt. My gut had been right. He was pulling away.
I distracted myself the way I always did when faced with disappointment: helping Daisy with the cups, the two of us moving around each other with the easy familiarity of women who knew not to get in each other's way.
In the end, there was nothing left to do. Daisy dried her hands and said she'd better get up to Josh, leaving me to collect my bag and head for the front doors so she could lock up after me.
It was only upon stepping outside that I saw Daemon. He was standing with Cole in front of the dry-cleaners next door, their backs mostly to me, voices low.
I stopped where I was.
I couldn't make out the words. Whatever was passing between them was deliberate and quiet. Cole had his head down, eyes on the sidewalk, while Daemon listened with his arms crossed, the way he stood when he was deep in thought.
Then Cole looked out at the street and said something short. One sentence, maybe two. He didn't look at Daemon when he said it.
Daemon was quiet before he said something equally brief in return.
I must have moved, because Daemon turned.
He saw me and went still.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey." I kept my voice even. "I’m heading home."
He glanced at Cole, who hadn't moved. "I'll walk you to your van."
I looked past him to where Cole stood, eyes still on the street. He had the stillness of someone who'd said something that hadn’t been appreciated.
I filed it away. Whatever that had been, it wasn't mine to ask about. Not tonight.
"That went well," I said to Daemon, the words coming out faster than I intended.
"Yeah. You were good in there," he said, slinging his arm around my shoulders and squeezing.
"Thanks." I smiled at him, feeling hopeful for the first time in days. "This could really work, you know? Not just fighting off Elevate, but building something sustainable. A real business alliance."
"Maybe."
I kept talking, the ideas coming now. "We could expand next year. Bring in more businesses, create different package tiers, maybe even go regional." I knew I was chattering but couldn't seem to stop. "Other towns dealing with the same thing could use this model."
Daemon's face went carefully blank.
The shift was subtle but unmistakable. The emotional shutters coming down. The distance back. Damn it. I'd been right to be nervous.
"Next year," he repeated, his tone neutral.
"Yeah. Once we prove the concept works here, we could—" I stopped, really looking at him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Daemon—" I said after unlocking my van.
"It's late. I should get going."
He walked to his truck without waiting for a response. As I watched him climb in and start the engine, I felt something crack in my chest.
He wasn't thinking about next year.
He wasn't thinking about us having a future at all.
The realization landed like a physical blow. All week I'd been telling myself I was imagining things. That he was stressed or tired or dealing with work problems.
But I hadn't imagined this. The way his expression closed off when I mentioned the future. The careful distance he'd been maintaining. The walls going up between us.
Daemon was pulling away.
And I didn't know how to stop it.
I drove back to my parents' place, to the apartment above their garage that had never felt more like a temporary space. Like somewhere I was staying until I figured out what I actually wanted.
Except I knew what I wanted.
I wanted the man who'd shown up when I needed help. Who'd called in favors and arranged for security cameras and stood beside me when Elevate tried to intimidate me. Who'd looked at me like I was the most important thing in his world.
I wanted Daemon.
But somewhere in the past week, he'd stopped wanting me back.
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out when I'd lost him. What I'd done wrong. What I could have said or done differently.
My phone buzzed. Daemon. I looked at it for a moment before answering.
"Hey." His voice was low, careful.
"Hey." I pulled my knees up and wrapped my free arm around them. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah. I wanted to make sure you got home safe." I heard him moving around on his end, as if unable to settle.
"I did." A beat of silence. The kind that had things in it. "Daemon."
"Yeah."
"Are you—" I stopped. Pressed my fingers to my lips. "Never mind."
"What?"
"I was going to ask something stupid."
"Ask it anyway." The movement on his end stilled.
I looked at the ceiling. "Do you think about us? When we're not in the same room."
The silence stretched long enough that I pulled the phone from my ear to check that the call was still connected.
"Yes," he said finally. "More than I should, probably."
My pulse did something unhelpful. I got up off the bed without meaning to and went to stand at the window, looking at nothing.
"Me too," I said. "That's all. I don't know why I said that. Goodnight, Daemon."
"Nadia." His voice had dropped a register. I heard him exhale, slow and deliberate. "It's not only that. I want you to know that. Whatever else is going on with me right now, it's not—" He stopped.
"Not what?"
"It's not that I don't want to be there."
I pressed my forehead against the cool glass. Closed my eyes.
"Okay," I mumbled. "Goodnight."
I hung up before either of us could make it worse.
Or better. I wasn't sure anymore which one scared me more.