Page 127 of Just Let Go

“What’s your favorite part?”

Grady reminded himself that people in Harbor Pointe weren’t the same kind of nosy as the people he usually encountered. These people actually cared about more than tabloids and headlines.

“The flowers, hands down,” he said, still admiring the scene in front of him. White lights had been hung from the rafters of the pavilion, casting light like diamonds on the dance floor. And while the snow statues scattered throughout the space had all been decorated with sprays of Quinn’s flowers, it was the display on the stage that was truly magical. One of the sculptors had created the likeness of a little girl peeking behind a giant, ornate door, which revealed the display Quinn had intended to enter in the contest that had been so important to her.

“What do you like about them?” the woman asked, moving closer to him. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

He glanced down at the papers on the table in front of her and eyed the wordsFloral Expo Best Designat the top of one of them. It looked like an entry form. “May I ask why you’re so interested?”

The woman smiled from behind her mask. There was something familiar about that smile. It reminded him of...

“I believe art, whether it’s floral design or a painting or something else entirely, should make a personfeelsomething. It’s interesting to hear what other people feel, is all.” She folded her program over the other papers and tucked them in her purse.

“It makes me feel—” he looked around—“free, I guess. Like here, none of my mistakes matter. There’s just this peaceful existence where I can be who I am.”

The woman at his side shifted. “You’re the one who called.”

He pushed the mask onto the top of his head. “And you’re Quinn’s mother.”

The woman reached into her purse and pulled out a photo identical to the one Quinn had framed on the wall of the flower shop. In it, two laughing girls, dancing alongside a young woman, as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Grady said.

“But you called anyway,” Jacie said.

“I felt like it was my fault Quinn was disqualified. It was really important to her. And look around—she’s crazy talented.”

The woman’s smile came and went so quickly he almost missed it. “She is.”

“And she’s really special.”

Her head tilted as she studied him. “You’re in love with her.”

He looked away, still drinking in the beauty of what Quinn had created. The beauty of her soul, which she’d poured out into every bit of this design. Love? He’d never been in love with anybody—not really. But was that what this was?

He turned back. “I don’t know why you left, but I know it would mean a lot to her if she could see you.”

Jacie shook her head. “That’s not a good idea.”

Grady frowned. “But you came all this way.”

“Against my better judgment, yes. But don’t misunderstand, Mr. Benson. I’m here in a professional capacity only.”

“Is that why you brought that photograph?”

She tucked the picture back inside her purse. “It’s been too long. Too many years—too many mistakes and missed opportunities.”

“Too many to be forgiven?”

His own words stunned him for a split second. Werehismistakes too many to be forgiven? He’d always felt they were, but what if—just what if—he was wrong? Seeing Jacie standing there, he was sure the mistakes of her past could be redeemed somehow. Why didn’t he believe the same thing about himself?

“Those girls are better off without me,” she said.

“But are you better off without them?”

She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away. “The design is beautiful. I’m glad I got to see it. Thank you for reaching out.”

“Mrs. Whitman, wait.” His hand on her arm stopped her from leaving. “You can’t come in here and not even see her. She’ll be devastated if she finds out.”

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