Rory Haven was constantly reminded how far she’d fallen from the pedestal Havenbrook had placed her upon, and today would be the worst reminder of all. Her hometown on the Fourth of July meant festivities. Festivities meant crowds. Crowds meant busybodies. And busybodies meant pointed fingers and hushed conversations, all directed squarely at her.
It might have been weeks since her divorce had been finalized—not to mention more than six months since she’d filed—but the gossip mill in Havenbrook never stopped churning. At least, it didn’t until something juicier came along, and it’d take a lot to get juicier than her shitstorm of a life. Having her husband of more than a decade cheat on her with two dozen women had been bad enough. Having him do so with her best friend—formerbest friend—was just the cherry on that shit sundae.
A knock sounded at the door to Rory’s office, and she glanced up.
Willow, one of her younger sisters and fellow town hall worker bee, poked her head around the corner. “Hey, you. Thought I was the only one workin’ on the Fourth.”
Will was the Event Coordinator—among other things—for Havenbrook, which meant everything happening in the Square today was all her doing. It also meant she’d been running herself ragged for the past six weeks and wouldn’t get a break for another couple of hours.
Rory held up a note scribbled in their daddy’s handwriting. “What the mayor wants, the mayor gets.”
Will’s eyebrows lifted. “And he wants right now?”
“He does indeed.” She dropped her voice an octave to imitate their father and said, “With as much as I’m payin’ you, you can run in there real quick and get this appointment set. Let ’em know the mayor wants it done.”
That was her daddy. Always throwing around his status and money, even with his own daughters. Like she could forget she hadn’t gotten this job based solely on her qualifications—being a stay-at-home mom was a damn hard job, but it didn’t come with a whole lot of references—but instead, because of him. Or the fact that she made more money job-sharing and working only three days a week than many of the full-time employees who’d been there for years. Something she knew not only because she’d had to make sure he signed all paperwork denoting any raises, but because he brought it up every chance he got.
“Does he realize it’s the Fourth, and no one’s open?”
Rory dropped her voice again. “‘Everyone’s open for the Havens.’”
“Sounds like Daddy.” Will rolled her eyes. “Hey, thanks again for helpin’ me decorate the Square for the parade. You always have the best ideas.”
While decorating the center of town hadn’t been Rory’s most fulfilling work—that award went to her star project, The Willow Tree, Havenbrook’s first and only bar—it still allowed her to use that creative part of her brain that was currently in starvation mode most of the time.
She’d helped redecorate a few of Havenbrook’s residents’ homes, but it wasn’t something she could do full time. Not when she had two little girls counting on her and a brand-new mortgage to pay. She’d do anything for her daughters, including working a soul-sucking job while putting her dreams on hold. And she refused to use the child support she received from Sean for anything other than her daughters’ expenses. He would forever be in her life because of their girls, but she’d be damned if she’d see his face when she looked around at her new place.
“Well, I certainly couldn’t leave you with only Mac to help.”
Mackenna, the second youngest of the four Haven girls, wasn’t what you’d call domestic. Or creatively inclined. Or helpful.
“I stopped askin’ her for help years ago. It would’ve been Finn out there with me.” Even mentioning her boyfriend’s name had Will’s face going all schmoopy. It made Rory a little nauseated, to be honest. He wasn’t even there, and she had half a mind to tell Will to get a room.
“In that case, I should be thankin’ you, ’cause I’d hate to see what that man would’ve come up with.” Just recalling his suggestions for the bar had her recoiling. He might be one of the owners, but that didn’t make him right.
Will laughed and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “You wanna head out with me? The parade’s startin’ in an hour or so.”
And be out in the open among all the whispers and stares for the whole damn thing? Not a chance in hell. The paradestartedthe festivities. Then they had the potluck, the carnival, the pie-eating contest, the baseball game—which she had to attend, no matter what—and the fireworks as the grand finale. Yeah, she’d definitely be avoiding that for as long as humanly possible. Make sure her mask was good and secure before she ventured into the crowd.
“You go on ahead,” she said. “I’m gettin’ the girls from Sean’s momma a little later, and I have a few things I need to do before then.” Never mind that those things were mostly made up specifically to keep her out of the Square until the last possible minute.
“If you’re sure…” Will didn’t even try hiding the concern on her face.
Rory was so sick of seeing that look. She got it from Mac and Will, from her momma, from every damn person she passed at the grocery store or walking down the street. She appreciated the gesture, but that didn’t mean she didn’t hate every second of it. Was she a mess? Absolutely. Was she set to crumble with the slightest jostling? Not even a little.
It’d take a hell of a lot more than a shitty ex-husband and an even shittier ex-best friend to crack Rory Haven.
“I’m sure,” Rory said, pasting on her smile. “I’ll see y’all out there in a bit.”
Will nodded, offered her a wave, and left. When she was out of sight, Rory exhaled, her smile slipping, and closed her eyes. She didn’t know when it had become so damn exhausting to wear that mask she’d perfected years ago, but she found it grated on her now. Had her nerves frazzled and frayed more than she’d care to admit. But she needed to suck it up and prepare for what was to come, because there was nothing but hours of it in her future.
The thought had dread pooling inside her. Of course, she’d been out and about since news of her divorce had spread, but this was the first major town event after it’d been finalized. She wasn’t looking forward to being the spectacle of Havenbrook today, and she had no doubt she would be. She couldn’t avoid it, though. Eventually, she’d have to show up.
She glanced at her watch. She still had a few hours to kill, and she knew just how to do it. If she was going to maintain that facade for hours, she needed a little spark to fuel her fire. Needed to take some time to stoke her creative side—the one that was just for her—and then she’d be able to make it through. She’d be able to play momma and daughter and sister and scorned woman just fine.
Town hall faced the Square, and Rory glanced out her office window to find people already milling about, settling in with lawn chairs to ensure prime seating for the parade. If she left out the front, she’d have to start this wholePoor Rorything a lot sooner than she was prepared for.
So she did the only thing she could—she stood from her desk, hooked her purse over her shoulder, and avoided every stare as she strolled straight out the back door without a second thought.
