“Okay,” I said slowly, shifting to face him. “But what about the six months with the company? How does that fit into your plans?”
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “That’s the thing. It doesn’t, not really. The six months are about making sure the company transitions smoothly, helping Petra find her footing, and tying up loose ends. I could stay on as a consultant for a short time, but after that? I’m done. My heart’s not in it anymore.”
I nodded, processing his words. “And what if you can’t get the businesses here on board? What if Cherrywood doesn’t respond the way you hope?”
Connor tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. This town is full of people who care deeply about it. They just need someone to rally them, to show them what’s possible. I think I can do that.”
“Are you sure you want this?” I asked softly. “This is a huge change.”
He smiled. “I do. It’s the first thing in a long time that feels… right. Like the work matters.”
I bit my lip, a new question forming in my mind. “Do you think this is enough for you? You’ve always thrived in high-pressure roles, leading big teams, managing massive projects. Will Cherrywood be challenging enough? What if you hate it and resent me for doing this?”
Connor laughed lightly, shaking his head. “You’d besurprised how challenging small-town politics and business coalitions can be. But honestly, it’s not about the size of the challenge—it’s about the impact. I want to see tangible results. I want to look around and know I made a difference. That’s what’s been missing for me. And, baby, I’d never resent you or our family.” Connor’s expression relaxed as he reached for my hand. “I’m choosingus, Laney. I’m choosing a life where I’m home more, where I’m not constantly tied to my phone or traveling for work. It means I’m building something that lets us both thrive—in Cherrywood, with the community, with our family.”
A warmth spread through me at his words, but I still had one more question. “How do you even start something like this? Do you already have people in mind?”
He nodded, a spark of excitement returning. “Your dad for one. And Sean from the chamber of commerce. I’ll need their advice and connections to get this off the ground. And I’ll talk to local business owners—hear their concerns, figure out what they need most. It’s going to take time, but I’m ready for that. I can work on this while I finish up the six months. That gives me half a year to get everything rolling.”
I smiled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
He grinned, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His expression was pure joy, and my heart skipped a beat. He kissed my forehead and then stood. “Let’s go talk to your parents. If I’m going to get this started, I’ll need all the allies I can get.”
I took his hand, my heart full as I followed him out the door. Soon, we were seated around my parents’ dining room table. My mom poured coffee for everyone while my dadsat back, arms crossed, his expression skeptical but attentive. Connor had spread out a few papers he’d brought, his excitement bubbling just beneath the surface.
“Alright, let’s hear it,” my dad said, leaning forward slightly. “Why did you gather us all today when I could be watching football?”
Connor cleared his throat. “Cherrywood needs a revival. This town has everything it needs to succeed—charm, history, a close-knit community—but the businesses here are struggling because there’s no support system. I want to create one.”
My dad’s brows rose, and he shared a look with my mom. “Go on.”
“We form a Cherrywood Business Alliance within the chamber of commerce,” Connor explained, gesturing to his notes. “A coalition where local businesses can share resources, collaborate on marketing, and support each other. Cherrywood already has a strong foundation with the winter festival, but we can build on that and expand opportunities for small businesses year-round. Here’s what I’m thinking.”
He held up a finger. “First, we create seasonal pop-up events that tie into what local businesses already offer. For example, a spring garden market where nurseries, florists, and craft shops can showcase their products. We could do a fall food and music festival, bringing in foot traffic during slower months.”
My mom tilted her head, intrigued. “And how do you convince business owners to get on board?”
Connor smiled, prepared for the question. “We start with a trial run. No big investments upfront—maybe we secure a small grant or a sponsor to cover the costs. Once they see theresults, they’ll be more willing to commit. It’s about building trust and showing them what’s possible.”
My dad scratched his chin, nodding slowly. “That’s not a bad start. But what about long-term support? How do you keep it going?”
Connor’s enthusiasm grew as he flipped to another page. “We hold monthly meetings to address challenges and brainstorm solutions. We organize workshops on things like social media marketing and e-commerce to help businesses grow. And eventually, we create an online marketplace for Cherrywood businesses to sell their products year-round.”
My mom’s eyes lit up. “That could be huge, especially for the artisans in town. They’ve been struggling to reach customers outside Cherrywood.”
“Exactly,” Connor said. “And the best part? It creates a sense of unity. When businesses work together, the whole town benefits.”
My dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You’ve thought this through.”
“I have,” Connor admitted. “I believe in what this could be.”
My dad exchanged a glance with my mom before nodding. “You know, I’ve got a couple of buddies who’ve been struggling to keep their shops open. This could be exactly what they need. Sean from the chamber of commerce—he’s been trying to rally support for something like this for years.”
“I’d love to talk to him,” Connor said. “The more people we get on board, the stronger this could be.”
My mom smiled, her eyes shining as she stared at the notepadwith Connor’s scribbles. “This could really work, Connor. I think you’re on to something.”
My dad slapped the table lightly, a smile breaking across his face as he winked at me. “I agree. Let’s make some calls. Sean’s going to want to hear this.”
