7. Sophie
SOPHIE
A s Graham pushes the door open and steps out of the café, I catch myself glancing after him. His broad shoulders disappear into the golden afternoon light, and his movements are deliberate and steady, like those of a man who knows exactly where he’s going.
I’m not sure what it is about him—his quiet demeanor, maybe, or the way he managed to say so little yet left such an impression. Either way, he’s gone now, leaving only the faint memory of his deep voice and a slight lingering curiosity I can’t quite shake.
“Well,” Mia says, breaking into my thoughts, “I didn’t expect that introduction to go so smoothly. You two were talking like you have known each other for years.”
I raise an eyebrow at her as we sit at a corner table by the window. “He seems nice, and I like his aura so far.”
“Oh really? Soph, you just met this man minutes ago, and you already love his aura?” she replies, grinning.
I laugh softly, shaking my head. “I said like, not love. Don’t go overboard, please.”
Mia leans forward, resting her elbows on the table as she sips her coffee. “I haven’t even started anything yet! I’m just observing for now.”
“That’s because I know you, and you don’t just innocently observe,” I respond.
Mia laughs, waving her hand dismissively. “I promise I won’t do anything. I won’t get involved.”
“Thank you,” I say with a smile before winking at her. “So what’s his story?”
Mia gasps dramatically. “You just told me not to get involved!”
“Yes, but still, what is his story? And I am not digging,” I say quickly, feeling a heat rise in my cheeks. “I’m just curious. He doesn’t seem like… I don’t know, your average Bardstown local.”
She raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Okay, you’re right about that. He’s not your average Bardstown local. But honestly? No one knows much about him. He’s been here for about seven years, came out of nowhere, and just sort of… fit in.”
“Just like that?” I ask, intrigued.
“Pretty much,” Mia says, shrugging. “He’s done amazing work here in Bardstown and neighboring towns. Everyone loves what he does, but he’s not exactly chatty. You could say he keeps people at arm’s length. I’m shocked he made small talk with you.”
“I mean, it is great to mind your own business, but would you say his is excessive?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Mia tilts her head as if considering the question for the first time. “I don’t know. It’s just how he is. He doesn’t share much about himself. No family visits, no big social life. But he’s dependable, hard-working, and extremely talented. And whatever his story is, he’s keeping it close to the chest.”
I stir my iced latte absentmindedly, the pieces of information clicking into place in my mind. Something is intriguing about Graham, something that doesn’t quite fit the quiet, small-town life he’s built for himself.
“He’s different,” I say aloud, echoing my earlier thought.
Mia nods. “Exactly. There’s always been something about him that feels like he doesn’t quite belong here, you know? Like Bardstown isn’t the whole picture.”
I glance out the window, watching the sun dip lower over the town's rooftops. “And yet, he’s stayed.”
“Yep,” Mia says, leaning back in her chair. “Whatever brought him here, he’s made it work. People love him. Well, as much as you can love someone who keeps the details of their life locked in a vault.”
But even as the conversation shifts, I can’t help but think about Graham—the way his deep voice carried more weight than his words, and his gaze lingered just a moment longer than necessary.
I tell myself it doesn’t mean anything, but deep down, I know better.
There’s something about him.
And for reasons I can’t quite explain, I want to know what it is.
Mia stirs her coffee, her eyes narrowing at me like she’s trying to read my thoughts. “So,” she begins, dragging the word out as if she’s gearing up for something. “How did the meeting with Riley and Ethan go? Everything good?”
I smile, taking a sip of my iced latte. “It’s actually great. I’m so excited that I’ll be planning a family wedding, and the best part is they both know what they want already.”
Mia smiles. “I’m just as excited as you are. By the way, you should see the flowers I had in mind for the wedding back at the flower shop.”
I laugh. “I need to see the Holloway Estate first since that’s where Riley wants to have the wedding. Then we can talk about flowers.”
Mia snorts. “Works for me. Do you need any help?”
I lean back in my chair. “Right after I see the location, I need a thorough map or full design of the estate, then I can start working on the plans for the gazebo, aisle, and flower placements.” I sigh. “Back in Manhattan, I had Aiden do this for me, but with me here working and the rest of my team there, it’s too hard to bring anyone down to Bardstown right now.”
Mia sets her cup down and taps her fingers against the table, her expression turning sly. “Well, I can think of someone with the design skills and experience to bring your vision to life. Someone who’s literally built some of the most beautiful outdoor spaces around here.”
I narrow my eyes at her, already guessing where this is going. “Mia…”
“Graham,” she says, grinning.
I shake my head. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Why not? You two hit it right off already. Working together wouldn’t be hard,” she asks, leaning forward like she’s trying to close the deal. “You need someone who knows outdoor spaces, right? Someone to design and map? Graham is a landscape architect. He’s the best person for this job.”
“Would he agree, though? I keep thinking he already has a lot on his table.”
Mia waves her hand dismissively. “You need his expertise, and this is Riley’s wedding we are talking about here. Plus, he’s a creative genius. The two of you together working on this? Bardstown is in for a show.”
I hesitated, chewing on the inside of my cheek. She has a point. As much as I hate to admit it, Graham’s background makes him the ideal person to help me figure this out.
But asking him feels… complicated. Especially since I just met him, and I don’t even know what he thinks of me yet.
“What makes you think he’d even agree?” I ask, glancing at her.
“Leave that to me,” Mia says confidently. “I’ll talk to him. Convince him it’s not a big deal. I’m very persuasive, you know.”
“I’m aware,” I mutter, though her enthusiasm brings a small smile to my face.
“Trust me,” Mia says, sitting back in her chair with a triumphant grin. “Graham may be a little closed off, but he’s a good guy. And I think he’d be more than willing to help, especially if I frame it the right way.”
I sigh, leaning forward to rest my elbows on the table. “Okay, fine. If you can get him to agree, I’ll consider it. But don’t make it weird, Mia.”
“When do I ever make things weird?” she asks innocently, batting her eyelashes.
I give her a look.
“Okay, fine,” she relents, laughing. “I’ll keep it professional. But seriously, Sophie, this is going to be great. I cannot wait!”
I nod, though a small part of me feels a flicker of nerves at the thought of working with Graham. Something about him unsettles me—not in a bad way, but in a way I can’t quite put into words.
Still, if it helps Riley and Ethan, I’ll do it.
“Okay,” I say finally, finishing the last of my drink. “Let’s see what Graham has to say.”
Mia grins, already looking far too pleased with herself. “Oh, don’t worry. He’ll say yes.”
A fter leaving the café, I decided to take a long way back. There’s no rush to head home, and it’s been years since I’ve taken the time to soak in Bardstown.
The streets are quieter than I remember, but there’s a certain charm in that—the way time seems to move slower here as if the rest of the world has been politely asked to wait. The small shops lining Main Street haven’t changed much, though a few new ones have popped up since I left. The bookstore is still there, its window filled with handwritten staff picks, and the candle shop next door smells as fragrant as ever.
It’s comforting, in a way, how little this place has changed. Bardstown has always been steady, rooted in its traditions and rhythms. It’s a stark contrast to Manhattan, where every block seems to reinvent itself every six months.
As I wander, my steps eventually lead me toward the fire station. The brick building stands proud on the corner, its bright red doors gleaming in the afternoon sun. I can see Sam’s truck parked out front, and the sight brings a smile to my face.
Sam has always been larger than life to me—my big brother, my protector, the person I’ve always looked up to. Even now, after all these years, the thought of him still feels like home.
I step inside, the faint smell of smoke and engine oil greeting me as I enter. The station is alive with activity—voices echoing from the back, the distant clang of metal tools.
“Can I help you?” a voice calls, and I look up to see a young firefighter approaching, wiping his hands on a rag.
“I’m looking for Sam,” I say, smiling.
He grins. “He’s in his office. Down the hall, second door on the left.”
“Thanks.”
I follow his directions, and sure enough, I find Sam sitting at his desk, pouring over what looks like a stack of incident reports. His hair has a touch of gray at his temples that I didn’t notice at dinner the other night, but he’s still unmistakably my brother.
I knock lightly on the doorframe. “Got a minute for your favorite sister?”
He looks up, his face breaking into a grin the moment he sees me. “Sophie! What are you doing here?”
“Just passing through,” I say, stepping inside. “Thought I’d check in on the town’s favorite firefighter.”
He chuckles, pushing his chair back and standing to hug me. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too,” I say, sitting across from him. “How’s work?”
“Busy,” he admits, leaning against the edge of the desk. “But it’s a good kind of busy. Keeps me on my toes.”
We fall into an easy rhythm, talking about everything and nothing. He asks about Manhattan, my work, and I ask about his—though most of his stories involve saving cats from trees and responding to false alarms.
“You ever miss it?” I ask after a while, tilting my head. “The old days, I mean. Before all of this.”
Sam smiles faintly, his gaze drifting to the window. “Sometimes. But life moves forward, you know? You can’t live in the past forever.”
I nod, understanding the truth in his words. “Still, it’s nice to look back every once in a while.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, his smile widening. “It is. And I hope you know how happy I am that you are here. We missed you at our wedding.”
“You do not know how much it pains me daily that I missed it.”
His eyes soften. “Soph, we talked about this. Em and I understood, and it’s okay?—”
Before he can continue, a loud alarm cuts through the station, followed by a rapid burst of voices and movement.
Sam straightens immediately, his expression shifting into something more focused. “That’s us.”
I watch as he grabs his gear. His calm, efficient movements remind me of how good he is at what he does.
“Stay here or head out,” he says quickly, already halfway to the door. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Be careful,” I call after him, but he’s already gone, the rest of the team falling in behind him.
The station feels emptier in their absence, the energy shifting into something quieter. I gather my things and step outside, watching as the firetruck roars to life and speeds off down the street, its sirens echoing through the town.
For a moment, I stand there, the warm breeze brushing against my skin as I watch the truck disappear into the distance. Sam has always been a hero to me, but seeing him like this—so steady, so capable—makes me proud.
I take a deep breath and start walking back toward Mia’s. And against my own better judgment, I can’t help but wonder if she’s talked to Graham yet and if he’ll agree to work with me. If he doesn’t, I have a lot of work ahead of me. And if he does… well, I’ll have to ignore the butterflies in my stomach at the thought.