“Not anymore. I’ll help you come up with something.”
I swallow, trying to ease my dry throat. “You’ll help me?”
“Duh.”
My cheeks are definitely tomato-red now. “I’ll be another thirty minutes, and I need to grab dinner on the way home.” I pull my phone from my ear to check the time. It’s already seven thirty.
“I’ll make us something while you finish up. I’ve been waiting so we could eat together.”
“You didn’t need to wait.”
“I wanted to.” My heart soars, and I bite back a smile. “Text me when you leave.”
* * *
When I walk in the front door, my nose is immediately filled with the smell of cocoa. “Oh my god! It smells incredible! Are the brownies our dinner?” I wouldn’t complain if they were.
Rhett leads Maverick and me to the back door, answering my question by pulling off two steaks from the grill. “The brownies in the oven are just to celebrate when we come up with a genius idea on how to help Carol and the dogs.”
“You’re a saint.” I take a plate from him and sit down at the dining room table.
Maverick rushes to follow, looking up at us with hopeful eyes as we begin cutting into our steaks. Doing my best to ignore his begging, I explain to Rhett the current method of fundraising at the rescue. “I was thinking we could host a fundraising event for Resilient Paws that could be done a few times a year.”
Rhett’s lips slip into a smirk. “You haven’t stopped thinking about this since the idea popped into your head, huh?”
“Of course not! That’s just not how my brain works. I think of something, and I hyperfocus on it until I have a solution. Why do you think I have such bad anxiety?”
“That doesn’t sound healthy.”
“That’s what counseling is for, right?”
He snorts. “I guess so. How’s that going?”
“I’ve only had one appointment, so we haven’t gotten into a whole lot. It’s mostly been explaining my background so far, but I already like her better than the therapist I saw in college, and she gave me one small tip for managing my anxiety at the end of our session.”
“That’s good.”
Eager to get back on track, I clap my hands together. “Okay, so I just need to come up with an idea that will attract a lot of people for the fundraiser. It needs to be something great to bring in lots of money.”
“You don’t need to put so much pressure on yourself to figure everything out. I’m here to help too.”
I barrel on. “Maybe we could host some sort of event here in Roots. We could get the café involved, but I think we need more businesses too.”
He pulls my plate away from me, grabbing my attention. “I’m all for helping you with this fundraiser, but you need to promise me you’re not going to let this consume you. You came here to get away from stress, not to create more for yourself.”
“But—”
“Promise me, or I won’t help you. I fully support your mission to help Carol, but not at the expense of your mental health.”
“Fine, but I might need a little help. I don’t know how to shut my brain off.”
He smirks, sliding my plate back to me. “I know. We’ll work on it together.”
“Thank you.”
Dismissing my praise, he says, “I think getting the café involved could be great. Did you have anything in mind?”
“That’s where I’m a little stumped. I want to host a farmer’s market of sorts that would attract people from outside of Roots. I think there’s a lot of money to be found in the outskirts of Dallas that I’d love to bring in, but I’m not sure how to put all this together. I’m a tax accountant, not an event planner.”
