Page 20 of When We Are Complete

That was just a one time thing, a lapse in judgment. I glance around the empty office, telling myself to snap out of it, while part of me wonders if that night unlocked something I’m not sure I can put away so easily. A wild animal finally uncaged.

I let out a sigh, and spend some time sorting out my stationary, setting up my computer, and getting my planner organized until the mayor knocks on my door. Soon I’m walking beside her once more, her low heels clicking a steady beat against the polished floors as we stride toward the meeting.

“This Founder’s Day Festival needs to be a knockout. We’re talking big—bigger than ever,” she says without breaking stride.

“It’s always been a tourist draw during the low season.”

“Exactly. And tourism is our bread and butter. The festival has always been popular, but this year, we’re aiming for a major boost to the economy.”

We reach the meeting room and I pause, letting the mayor enter first before I follow in behind her. The table’s a sea of papers and open laptops, with town officials hunched over, plotting to take over the world. Maybe they are—in a small-town festival sort of way.

“Everyone, this is Kelly Charleston, our new secret weapon,” Elaine announces, and heads turn, appraising me. I give them my bestI’ve-got-this-smile. It’s go time.

I pause for a moment, letting my gaze sweep over the people already seated. It takes me a beat to realize I recognize more than a few faces. Harbor’s Edge has always been small, and even though it’s been years since I left, some people haven’t changed all that much.

There’s Allison Brady, who was two years ahead of me in school, now sitting at the far end of the table with a laptop open, her signature fiery red hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. She used to run the student council and edit the school newspaper.

And then there’s Darren Green, one of Jake’s old football teammates, who gives me a nod of recognition. “Kelly Charleston. It’s been a while.”

“Darren, Allison—good to see you both.”

The mayor steps up beside me. “Kelly’s got a lot of experience with sustainable event planning, which we’ll need if we want this festival to grow responsibly. We want new attractions, more vendors, and for the festival to be the best ever. Kelly here will help us ensure it all aligns with our green initiatives and attracts even more people to our beautiful town.” Her gaze meets mine. “How about you introduce yourself, and then we can brainstorm some initial ideas?”

Purpose surges through me, a reminder of why I’m here. To build something, to find my footing again, to make a difference, Jake Tanner be damned. I can almost sense Mom’s presence, her encouragement. And in that moment, the echoes of Jake fade. I didn’t come here for him. I’m here to build my future, not to be weighed down by the past.

I spend a few minutes giving everyone an abridged version of my resume before turning to the festival. “Alright folks, let’s talk turkey.” My mind races through eco-friendly possibilities to elevate the festival, and I start throwing some of them out there: biodegradable Christmas decorations, solar-powered lights, zero-waste food stalls.

We keep talking specifics, brainstorming, and the energy in the meeting room shifts as people start to get excited. Once we’ve finished getting all our ideas down, an initial concept for the festival taking shape, Elaine mentions she is in the final stage of selecting a contractor for the new booths, installments and main stage.

She looks at me. “It’s a major piece of the puzzle, and we want it done right. Once we’ve awarded the contract, you’re going to be working very closely with the successful contractor.”

I’m already imagining the potential of what we can achieve having a dedicated contractor working on the festival. “Of course. This is going to be great.”

A few members of the team catch my eye and smile, and pleasure spreads through me. Despite my brothers’ doubts, this is good. This feels right. As though I’m heading in the right direction. The rest of the meeting passes quickly, and soon I’m back in my office. It’s official—I’m in the thick of it now.

As the afternoon wanes, the rhythm of small-town bureaucracy is oddly comforting. Colleagues pop in and out of my office, and I start matching faces, names, and roles in my head. A guy named Charlie with friendly eyes and a clipboard in hand knocks and steps into my office. “Got everything you need?”

“Getting there,” I say with a shrug. “Just need to find where you guys hide the good pens.”

He laughs and promises to reveal the secret stash later. He disappears down the hallway, before I turn back to my computer, where I’m setting out some initial new booth designs, waste management strategies, and vendor guidelines.

Half an hour later, someone clears their throat and I glance up to see the mayor in my doorway. “Looks like you’re settling in alright.”

“Feels like it,” I admit. “This festival’s going to be something else. Your vision is perfect and I’m going to make it happen.”

“Keep that fire. We’re gonna need it because we’ve never done something this big before. There are bound to be teething problems, but I have absolute faith you can do this.”

“Thank you, I won’t disappoint you.”

The mayor disappears, and I scan the neat rows of my notes. Once, twice, then two more times, it’s a rhythm that keeps my thoughts in order. My fingers twitch, and I’m aligning pens by color and size. The blues kiss the edge of the ruler, the reds snug up next to them—uniform, perfect.

The day wraps up without fanfare, the setting sun casting long shadows across my desk. I pack up my things slowly, letting silence fill the space as the other offices empty, my stupid brain reliving that night yet again as though it’s my favorite song. The more I try to put it out of my mind, the stronger the pull is, the harder it is to ignore.

I shake my head. I can’t afford distractions, especially when they come in the form of a man I swore I was done with. And today went well. I made it through the first gauntlet, and as I pick up my bag, there’s a sense of accomplishment, despite Jake’s lingering presence at the edges of my mind.

“See you tomorrow, Kelly,” someone calls out as I step into the corridor.

“See you then,” I shoot back, my office door closing behind me.

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