I considered the question, how carefully he’d asked it. NotThat’s amazingorOf course, they do. Just concern. Space.
Me:I think so. It feels weird. But not wrong.
Wyatt:That checks out for you.
Me:What does?
Wyatt:Doing the hard thing even when it’s uncomfortable.
Heat crept up my neck. I glanced at Beth and Natasha, who were pretending not to watch me text.
Me:I’ll tell you more tonight.
Wyatt:Looking forward to it. And—Texas Night?
Me:Still on.
Wyatt:Good. I’ll bring my best two-step.
Me:I expect nothing less.
I set the phone down, my pulse doing that familiar, unsettling thing again.
Beth cleared her throat loudly. “Who was that?”
“No one,” I said too quickly.
Natasha smiled. “You’re smiling.”
“I am not.”
Beth leaned closer. “You are radiating.”
I surrendered with a sigh. “Him.”
Beth squealed softly and clapped once, immediately drawing a look from a nearby guest.
Natasha’s smile was quieter. Knowing. “You seem lighter.”
I considered that. “I think I am.”
Lunch plates were cleared away, and the afternoon stretched long and golden. I dozed for a while, the sounds of Charleston drifting around me like a lullaby—distant traffic, voices carried on the breeze, the soft splash of water.
When I woke, my phone had another message waiting.
Jax Moore:Thanks again, Sophie. We’ve scheduled the brief sit-down for tomorrow afternoon. Mayor Kennedy’s office?
I sat up slowly, the reality settling deeper now.
Me:That works. Please keep it low-key.
Jax Moore:Absolutely. And for what it’s worth—the mayor is very particular about who she lends her name to. She asked to be involved, personally.
I stared at that line longer than necessary.
Beth peeked over. “What now?”
“The mayor specifically asked,” I said.
