Tristan wiggles his eyebrows. “So she’s going to have her whole little support squad on-site for the next wave.”
“Next wave?” I echo.
He stares at me like I’m dumb. “You think this stops at TikTok and local news? No, my sweet summer child. She’s got at least three national segments lined up. Maybe more. If she doesn’t cancel. She’s getting cold feet.”
Mindy raises her head. “Five,” she corrects. “If we count the European outlets. I’ll talk to her.”
I blink. “Europe?”
“You’re dating an emerging global brand,” Mindy says. “Or, well. Youwere.”
“Thanks,” I say dryly.
“Just stating facts.”
X nudges me with his knee. “You’re either going to get your shit together and meet her at that level… or watch someone else do it.”
“Speaking of someone else,” Tristan says, “Scott from hockey asked me if she liked seafood. Said he was thinking of taking her to The Mooring before the gala.”
I see red for a second.
“He’s not taking her anywhere,” I say.
“You sure?” Tristan pushes. “Because last I checked, you and her weren’t exactly on ‘double date’ terms.”
I stare at the ceiling.
Every muscle in my body feels tight.
“I don’t know what to do,” I say finally.
Tristan grins. “Then you show up for Jade in a way that proves you’re not your mother’s puppet.”
“Is that even possible?” I mutter.
X shrugs. “That’s on you.”
We sit there for a while. The muted game flickers on the screen. Mindy types furiously. Somewhere in the background, a timer goes off and someone yells about pizza.
Outside, the air is cold, the sky clear, Thanksgiving creeping closer.
Inside, everything feels like it’s vibrating — pressure, anticipation, dread.
I close my eyes and see her again.
Jade on the cliff.
Jade in front of the lawyer’s office.
Jade walking past me in the hall with her head high and her eyes steel.
Thanksgiving is in three days.
Her parents will be in town.
She’ll be bouncing between family, interviews, visits, strategy meetings.
The story will keep getting bigger.
