Page 113

It should’ve scared me; I was pretty much living with him at this point. But instead of being terrified, I felt a peace I’d never imagined I could feel. With Henry, the worry hadn’t gone away, but the intensity was slowly dialing back. By Henry’s side, the anxiety in my head mellowed.

Before Mix It Up had been shut down, he’d cut back on his hours at work. Ben had taken on more responsibilities at the bar since we’d started dating—he and Ethan seemed to be the only ones who knew about us, though I could tell Cameron suspected something—and Henry seemed happy to take a day or two off a week to spend time with me. I was so proud of him for doing it; I knew he had to work through a lot of worry about letting go of the reins a little, but he did it. For me.

I didn’t know how special that would make me feel until it happened. I’d never felt more loved.

“Have we heard back about the donated dresses and suits yet?”

Natasha’s voice broke into my thoughts, and I blinked back to reality. From our planning meetings, I knew we were partnering with a local consignment shop who’d donated all the evening wear they couldn’t sell during prom season to our event. Which just made my heart happy. “Someone named Edgar is waiting for me to pick them up later today. I’ll bring them with me tomorrow.”

I’d already asked Henry if I could borrow his truck, and he’d offered something even better. He was going to pick me up after I was done here and go with me to help with the donations, which had sent a wave of warmth lacing through my chest.

Natasha clapped once. “Great! Décor is mostly in the storage room upstairs. I say we finish putting all of it together today, then it will be easier to put up tomorrow when we actually set up the room. I’ve got a couple of our maintenance staff coming to help us hang things and set up at ten tomorrow morning.” She frowned then started counting off items on her fingers. “DJ is booked, and she’ll be bringing the audio system, flowers—including boutonnieres and corsages—are being delivered first thing in the morning, some of the other staff are taking the residents out shopping so no one will be poking around trying to sneak a peek at the décor, and . . . what am I missing?”

I snickered under my breath. “Um, food?”

She snapped in my direction. “Oh, yes! I’d seriously lose my head if it wasn’t attached.”

I cocked my hip, narrowing my eyes at her before bursting out laughing. Gratefully, Natasha followed suit.

“Okay, Tris, laugh if you will, but you’ll see when you get older.”

“Sure, sure,” I muttered under my breath, but she heard me in the tiny space that was Natasha’s office, and we cackled again.

“So, food,” Natasha started, getting us back on track after our laughter had died down. “I’ve got a massive cake being delivered tomorrow, the caterers are setting up at two, and drinks are gonna be handled by our kitchen staff, some of whom have volunteered to act as servers during the event.”

I grinned. This really was coming together. Our theme of “A Night at the Movies” was going to be incredible.

As we started putting together the many centerpieces and larger décor pieces we’d purchased for the event, I commiserated with her about Henry’s struggles with the bar.

Natasha frowned from a few tables away, where she was focused on making a red, gold, white, and black paper chain with some of the residents. “Does he have any leads on how to fix it?”

I finished hot-gluing a thin, two-sided cardboard cutout of an old-school movie camera to either side of a small dowel and arranged it inside a sparkly, holographic black foil spray shooting out of a festively covered cement base then shook my head. “No, not yet. He’s got a friend at the police department, and I guess they’re looking into it. But we haven’t heard anything.”

Natasha glanced up. “Anything I can do to help?”

Janice, a spitfire of a lady with a shock of short red hair to match, piped up. “Listen, young man. If you need something, you tell us, you hear?”

I hid a smile. “Thank you, Janice, that’s very kind of you to offer. I’m not sure what anyone can do at the moment. Henry’s just so stressed about this event he has coming up next month—he’s not sure he’ll even reopen by then, and in the meantime, he’s put a pause on all the planning. If this goes on much longer, I’m afraid he’ll have to cancel.”

Rita, another resident who looked frail but was completely the type to smack someone with her thirty-pound purse if they stepped out of line, crooked a bony finger at me. “You let us help, Tristan! We can make calls and shit.”

Natasha covered up a surprised laugh with a cough at that, and I just turned a blinding smile the older woman’s way. “That’s sweet, Rita. Thank you. There’s not much you can do, though.”

“Nonsense, Tristan. We’re helping you, and that’s that.” Maxwell’s bushy eyebrows were furrowed so far over his eyes they were hardly visible, and my heart warmed. These delightful humans were all so thoughtful and caring.

Knowing how tricky regulations could be, I eyed Natasha before committing to anything. She gave me a subtle nod, barely hiding her own wide smile.

“Thank you all. I would love the help if you’re willing and able.”

Rita whooped like she was at a Beatles’ concert, and Natasha and I couldn’t help it any longer. We burst out laughing for the millionth time today.

These residents were literally the best.

***

Senior Prom happened the next night, and it started off with an informal red-carpet-style fashion show as all the older adults came down to the large front lobby we’d decorated for the occasion. We got so many amazing photos and videos of the residents before it even started, and as the evening progressed, we took even more.

Several family members came to experience the special night with their loved ones, and an hour in, everyone seemed to be having an incredible time. Even Henry had volunteered to help. Several of the ladies nearly swooned when he rolled up his sleeves to carry supplies to and from the open bar.