“Why not? You said yourself you need to get out of your head. Come see the mountains. Breathe some actual air. Meet people who don’t know or care who the Castellanos are.”
Something flickered across Marco’s face—interest, or the ghost of it. “I have meetings. Obligations.”
“When has that ever stopped you? You have people who can handle your meetings.”
Marco was quiet for a moment, swirling the water in his bottle. “A small town in the mountains where no one knows my name.” He set the bottle down. “Fine. I’ll come. Two days, maybe three. Just for the opening.”
“That’s a start.”
“It’s me voluntarily leaving Manhattan for somewhere that probably doesn’t have a decent espresso within fifty miles.”
“They have coffee. Like I said, it’s not Italian coffee, but it’s good.”
“American coffee.” Marco made a face. “The things I do for friendship.”
Colton picked up his phone and pulled up his contacts. Ally’s name sat there, unchanged since they’d broken up in that hotel room. His thumb hovered over the screen.
“Just do it,” Marco said. “Before you talk yourself out of it.”
He typed a message. Not a call—he wasn’t ready for that yet—but a text. Something to break the silence, to let her know he was coming.
I’m coming to the inn opening. I’d really like to see you. And Daisy.
He hit send before he could second-guess it.
“There.” He set the phone down, his heart beating harder than it had any right to. “Done.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard.”
“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to wait for the response.”
Marco stood, straightening his sweater. “I have a dinner thing I can’t get out of—some designer who wants to collaborate on something. But I’ll block out the dates for the opening. Send me the details.”
“I will.”
The rain had eased to a drizzle, the city outside the windows emerging from the gray in patches.
“Colton.” Marco paused by the elevator. “For what it’s worth? I think you’re making the right choice. The mountains, the girl, all of it.”
“And what about you? What would make things right for you?”
Marco’s smile turned rueful. “If I figure that out, I’ll let you know.”
The elevator doors closed behind him, and Colton was alone again. But it felt different now. Less like somewhere he was stuck, more like somewhere he was leaving.
His phone buzzed.
He grabbed it too fast, nearly dropping it. Ally’s name appeared on the screen.
I’d like that too.
Three words. Four, technically. But they changed everything.
In two weeks, he’d be in Blueberry Hill. In two weeks, he’d see her.
He needed to book a flight. Colton pulled up a travel site on his phone and started searching for flights to Asheville, but before he could put in the dates, a text from Marco popped up.
We’ll take my jet.
