It wasn’t him.
A sedan rolled to a stop. Heather stepped out, smoothing her jacket before glancing toward the barn.
Mia’s stomach tightened. Her first instinct was to step back, out of sight. But Heather probably wouldn’t give up and would knock at the farmhouse.
Crap. Could she pretend she wasn’t here? Hide somewhere? She stayed perfectly still, heart ticking.
Too late.
Heather saw her in the window and waved enthusiastically.
Mia closed her eyes for a beat, then let out a slow exhale. Avoidance wasn’t an option now.
By the time Heather reached the door, Mia was ready.
“Hi,” Heather said brightly, stepping inside. “I thought I might find you here. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“No,” Mia said. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to check on you. I heard you’d had a rough week.”
Mia kept her tone neutral. Flat. Careful. “It’s been busy.”
Heather nodded, lowering her voice a notch like the walls had ears. “That’s actually why I stopped by. People have been talking.”
Mia stayed where she was, leaning against the counter. She didn’t offer a chair. No sense in sitting when all she wanted was for Heather to go away.
Against her better judgment, she asked, “About what?”
Heather paused, as if she didn’t want to say it out loud. “Nothing concrete. Just questions. A couple of folks mentioned they heard events had been canceled. That people weren’t sure you could commit.”
Mia sighed. “Not true. People cancel all the time. That’s the nature of the business.”
“Oh, I know,” Heather said. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Just time. Or nerves.” She shrugged. “You know how people get.”
Mia waited. She didn’t fill the space. Didn’t explain. Let Heather sit on it.
“It’s mostly just chatter,” Heather continued. “But it keeps coming up that events are canceled and clients are backing out.”
“They’re not,” Mia said.
“I told them that,” Heather said quickly. “It’s just…” She hesitated. “Sabrina mentioned it first. At the salon.”
Of course, she did.
“She said someone she knows was thinking of booking you and got nervous after hearing about a last-minute cancellation.” Heather shrugged. “Secondhand stuff. You know how it goes.”
Secondhand information. Rumors.
“Sabrina complains,” Heather added. “She always has. I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm.”
Mia nodded once. If she believed that, she’d still believe in the Easter Bunny and Santa.
Heather paused, then set a folded printout on the counter. “Someone shared this online. I thought you’d want to read it yourself.”
She lifted a hand slightly, as if distancing herself from it. “I read this on a local blog. This is nothing I would write. Anyhow, I thought you should know what’s being said,” Heather added gently. “Before it spreads any further.”
“Thanks,” Mia replied.
