“Yes! He’s been looking for an artist to hire on full time to create decorative pieces, wall installations, and functional art that will blend into the natural surroundings of the resort. He wantsyou. He said if things go well, he’d recommend you to other branches in other cities.”
Roman’s looking at me now—another stop light. I peer back and his brows raise. His lips form the silent word—Wow.
“This solves all of your problems, Stella! This would not only be a job, but a good paying job, a creative job. Marcus wants you in San Francisco—at the resort! The job even comes with a place to live. You never wanted to leave California. You don’t need to stay married with a good paying job and a place to live. Your parents won’t have to worry about who’s providing for you or if you’re in a safe house. It solveseverything.”
My pulse drums in my neck and temple. My jaw clenches. I hear her. And while it’s all good news. My body isn’t reacting to it the way it should. It’s cold, and thrumming, and suddenly overly anxious. “Solves everything,” I say like a robot.
“I gave him your contact information. He’s calling tomorrow, so make sure you answer!” Willow grins.
“Thanks, Will. It’s all…great. Great news.” I swallow, ready to hang up. Ready to reverse my life and not pick up that call.
My life has been a mess. A mess without Roman. A messwithRoman. But I like my mess with Roman.
“I better run,” I tell her. “But thanks. Really. I love you, Will.”
“Love you!” she croons.
The dimness of the night looms in the quiet of the car. Roman has silenced the radio and I hear nothing but breathing—in then out.
Someone wants me—for a big job, a creative job, something I’ve dreamed about for years.
And yet, all I can think about is Roman.
“Well,” he says, ending the silence and turning onto our dirt road. “That’s exciting news. Exactly what you’ve been wanting. A big break.”
I swallow, my heart beating in my ears. “I won’t take it, Roman. We have a deal. Your cabin?—”
He breathes out a half-hearted laugh. “Baxter won’t take my cabin away. Not now.”
He’s so sure. How can he be so sure? Is this his out? I mean, we’d like to date—but marriage, that’s an entirely different level. One we no longer have a reason for, at least according to Willow.
He turns on to the dirt road that leads to our cabin. Er—Roman’s cabin. I have no claim on the place. Sure, it feels like home. And I happen to love it, but it’s not mine. Not technically.
I stare ahead, heart aching. “So, you think I should take it?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, this is what you’ve been waiting for, right? You want this. Right?”
“Is that what you want?” I say. Because I need to know. What does Roman want? And how could I ever blame him if he wanted a step back. Dating doesn’t automatically equal marriage.
“You kept your end of the bargain. I’ve got my cabin. You’re back on your feet—a little sooner than we planned. But that’s not surprising.” He smiles—but it doesn’t feel right.
I want to ask—And what about us?But the words won’t come. Because failing at my job, at my home, even in my award could never hurt as much as failing with Roman.
Fifty-Two
Stella’s going to leave.Why would she stay? Her problems are solved, and she doesn’t need me. Those are the words filtering through my brain when Stella lets out a jarring scream.
“Skunk!”
I slam on the breaks of my car and we both jerk, our seatbelts locking us in place. My back slams into my seat and with heavy breaths I gape over at her.
But Stella’s staring outward. “Skunks.” she says, her chest rising and falling with breath. Unlocking her door and reaching for the handle, she steps outside before I have time to question any of her actions.
She rounds the front of the vehicle, peering down.
I hop out and leap to the front of my Bronco. A fully grown skunk sits with her nose to my bumper.
“You almost killed her!” Stella snaps, tears in her eyes.
