I feel like an absolute asshole as I follow a storming Audrina through the crowded restaurant to a small door marked with a sign that readsOffice. She yanks open the door and waits until I’m inside. She closes the door behind us but then stands by the door, her arms crossed over her chest.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she says, her voice accusing. “How dare you show up like this? What the hell do you want?”
I wish I could hug her, tell her I’m so sorry for what they are going through, but I only have a few seconds to get this out before she’s no doubt going to send me packing. I say what I came to say quickly.
“Audrina, I had no idea this was happening today, or I never would have shown up. Since you wouldn’t take my calls, I took a chance and flew down here. All I want is to talk to you. I think I have a solution that can get you out of the Star Falls situation and all of us out of an expensive legal mess. Can you give me five minutes, please?”
She looks stunned but then peeks at her watch. “Okay,” she relents. “Five minutes.”
She takes a seat at an old metal desk that is covered with papers and envelopes. She motions for me to sit, so I pull out a very old, well-worn wooden chair and perch on the edge of it.
“I don’t want to assume, but it looks like you maybe wanted out of the Star Falls location because of the fire?” I phrase it as a question.
She lowers her chin and nods. “Yeah,” she says. “But my grandparents don’t know about that yet. After they lost everything, they moved temporarily into my parents’ house. We thought after Grandma got checked out by the doctor that she was okay, but…” She blinks fast. “Physically, they’re okay.Emotionally?” She shakes her head. “Have you ever experienced a house fire?”
“No,” I say, silently thankful that I have not. “But I imagine it’s absolutely devastating.”
Audrina nods. “Fifty years of treasured heirlooms. Clothes and pictures, toys and letters.” Her voice breaks. “I know it’s just stuff, but some stuff can’t be replaced. Some stuff carries meaning. And for my grandma…” She sighs. “She blames herself. She feels like she destroyed our family’s history. Our legacy.” She meets my eyes. “I can’t leave them, Willow. Two years ago, I thought striking out on my own and doing my own thing would be an amazing adventure. Now?”
She leans back in her chair, opens a desk drawer, and pulls out a box of tissues. She dabs at her eyes. “My grams could have been hurt or worse in that fire. I can’t leave them. Can’t spend the remaining years we have together so many miles away.”
“Changing your mind is not a basis for getting out of a contract,” I say, nodding. “I’m so sorry. You probably feel trapped.”
She looks at me suspiciously. “I did, still do.” She wrinkles up the tissue in her hand. “My lawyer told me there is no way out of the Culinary Capital contract. Everything is legit, which is why they signed off on it in the first place. I told them they had to find a way out, so we filed the injunction. I know I can’t get out of the deal for good, but my lawyers said they can delay things for at least one year.”
She tosses the shredded tissue into a small trash bin by the desk and stares at me. “So, if you’re here to get to me to change my mind, it won’t happen. I’ll give you the money you spent on the ticket to get in here, and you can go.”
She stands up and looks like she’s going to storm out when I hold up a hand. “Please, Audrina. Wait. I told you I thought I had a solution. Can you hear me out? Please?”
She looks me over skeptically but eventually nods. “All right.”
We talk for the next forty-five minutes. I feel terrible taking her away from the event, but if we can sort this out now, it will be the solution to both of our problems. To the problems of a whole lot of people.
I answer all of her questions and ask a bunch of my own. We disagree about a lot, and at times, we raise our voices so loud, I’m worried that someone from the event will hear. But by the time I have the information I need, we’re on calm, if not friendly, ground.
Now, I just need to convince my boss that this will work.
I make my way through the noisy crowd at Pancake Circus, nodding to Nathan as I show myself out. My first instinct is to text Benny, so while I wait for the rideshare to take me back to my hotel, I send him a message.
Me: What do you think about me sticking around in Star Falls? Like for good?
Instead of a text back, my phone rings.
“Are you serious?” he asks. “What’s going on? How’d it go in Florida?”
“Well, I’m still here,” I tell him. “I’m headed up to see Jessa tomorrow morning. But so far, so good. I’m cautiously optimistic that I can make this work.”
“Who do I have to bribe?” he asks. “Because if it means you staying in Star Falls…”
I grin. “Hopefully it won’t come to under-the-table deals,” I laugh. “There are going to be so many lawyers looking this deal over…” I sigh. “It’s scary, Benny.”
“What part?” he asks. “The lawyers? Talking to your boss?”
All of it, I think. Commitment. Giving up the familiar. Putting myself out there in such a big way that I realistically don’t know if I can ever come back from this decision.
As if reading my silence, Benny says, “All of it?”
I laugh. “Yeah, honestly. All of it. How’s Mags?”
