Maybe I do have a flair for the dramatic after all.
“I’m glad to see you’ve had a change of heart. And so quickly too! It takes most people longer to move on to the acceptance phase.” This smile from Mimi seems genuine, though she still watches me with an all too knowing gaze that will be haunting my dreams for years to come, I’m sure.
“I think you’ll come to find I’m not like most people,” I say as sweetly as I can manage.
“Hmmm. You might be right about that.” She finishes her coffee and takes both of our mugs over to the counter. “Have you thought about what you would like to do first?”
“Let’s go with the career thing.” I know my strengths.
“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.” She pulls a notebook from the pocket of her apron. Flipping through the pages, her brow furrows until she seems to find what she’s looking for. “Ah. Here it is. Okay, so for careers, there are three possible openings. Number one is running the bookstore. Number two is working at the bakery. And number three is becoming a wedding planner.”
My nose wrinkles before I can stop it. I hate literally all of those options. Novels are a waste of time. I haven’t eaten carbs in at least five years. And marriage is a farce, which probably makes me a bit more cynical than your averagewedding planner. “I was really hoping I could put some of my already developed and well-practiced skills to good use. Is there a town law office?”
Mimi makes a note in her little book. “Now, now, the whole point is for you to do something new, not fall back on the career you already know.”
“But it’s a career I’m very good at. And very passionate about. Didn’t you say I needed to be passionate about it?”
“Yes, but there’s a difference between passion and obsession.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I am not obsessed with my job.”
“So you work standard weekly hours?”
“For a lawyer, yes, I do.” The standard for partners being at least eighty hours a week, but I didn’t make the rules.
“And you have hobbies outside of work?”
“Yes,” I lie.
“And friends who are not affiliated with your job in any way, shape, or form?”
My cheeks heat as the lies continue. “Yes.”
“Hmmm.” She makes another note in her blasted book.
“Okay fine. I guess I’ll try the bookstore first. How hard can it be?”
“Fabulous. One thing to keep in mind—the citizens of Heart Springs think you have willingly moved to our beloved town and are looking for a job and ways to meet people. They are content here, living the kind of lives that truly make them happy. Don’t do anything to ruin that for them. Be at the bookstore first thing tomorrow.” She tucks her notebook into the apron pocket and turns to wipe down the counters. I suppose I am dismissed.
I push back my chair, smoothing down my skirt. “Can’t wait.” I don’t bother hiding the sarcasm. I’ve already agreed to her ridiculous plan; no more need to pretend.
“And Cam?” Mimi calls just as I’m shoving the front door open.
I pause just long enough to catch her parting words.
“I encourage you to approach everything and everyone in Heart Springs with an open mind and an open heart. It’s the only way you’ll truly find your way home.”
I turn my head so she doesn’t see my eyes roll.
The walk back to my house feels as long and tedious as client depositions. My mood does not improve when I approach the front walk and see Ben sitting on the porch next door.
Why the fuck isn’t he out finding himself or whatever? If he talked to Mimi two days ago, shouldn’t he be busy finding his life’s passion?
I borderline slam the gate of his yard open, stomp up the front walk, and collapse in the chair next to his.
“Hard day?”
I don’t need to look at him to see the smirk. I reach across the small space separating us and swipe the beer out of his hand, taking a long swig and practically draining it. “I don’t think this is a dream.”
