I hadn't been back on Thursday. I'd been in processing, and by the time I was settled enough for the world to exist again, she was gone.
She'd believed in me, and I'd failed her by being exactly who I was.
Nadia believed in me. She'd said it without saying it, in a hundred small ways, every time she let me stand beside her. Every time she'd shown me the security footage or reached for my hand in a parking lot when she didn't have to.
The question was what I was going to do when I let her down too.
Because I would. I was reliable like that. I had a perfect record of failing the people who counted on me when it mattered most. And Nadia was counting on me.
On Wednesday, she called to ask me to help set up for a meeting.
"Yeah. Sure," I said.
She heard something in it. She always did. "Are you okay?"
"Fine. Just busy. Text me the address."
I hung up before she could press further.
It was easier that way.
That was a lie I'd been telling myself all week.
SEVENTEEN
NADIA
On Monday morning, my phone wouldn't stop ringing.
The first call was from Skye at Skye High Pies. "Nadia, we need to talk. Someone at Elevate approached two of my part-time bakers. Offered them full-time positions with benefits I can't match."
The second was from Daisy, a local florist. "They undercut me on the Palmer wedding. Thirty percent below my quote. How am I supposed to compete with that?"
By Tuesday afternoon, I'd heard from six local business owners. Same story, different details. Elevate Events hadn't only targeted me. They were going after everyone.
I sat in my commercial kitchen, staring at the notes I'd taken during each call, and felt something break. This wasn't my fight alone.
This was a war on our entire community.
My phone rang again. Kelly Thomas, Zac's wife, ran a marketing company.
"Zac told me what's happening," she said without preamble. "I want to help. No charge. These corporate vultures need to know they can't walk into our town and start picking off local businesses."
"Kelly, I appreciate that, but?—"
"No buts. We're stronger together, and I can prove it." I heard typing in the background. "What if we created a collective? Bundle services for weddings and corporate events. Show them local beats national every time."
The idea sparked something. "Keep talking."
By Wednesday morning, a plan was taking shape. Kelly suggested I reach out to Angie, the dance instructor who'd done lessons for a friend's wedding. "First dance packages," Kelly said. "Brides love that personal touch."
She was right. I added Angie to the list and kept going.
Kelly's office was at The Oasis on the edge of town. The main barn on the property she shared with Zac had been converted into a shared workspace: rows of hot desks, the low hum of people doing their own thing.
Kelly's private office was at the back, with a view of the natural swimming pond Zac had put in and the type of setup that told you immediately the person working there took their work seriously.
We'd agreed on five o'clock. Elevate wasn't sitting still, and neither could we.
