Page 92 of Hometown Girl

“Colorado State.”

“Colorado State, and you’re doing this kind of work?”

He shrugged. “I like it.”

She eyed him for a long moment.

“What about you?”

She took a drink of her coffee, wishing that if they were going to change the subject, they could focus on something other than her. “What about me?”

“I assume you have a degree.”

“I do.”

“In?”

“Business.”

“I can see that. And, what, you just love Willow Grove so much you came back home after college?”

She laughed. “Can we walk?”

He balled up the fritter wrappers and tossed them in the garbage can. “Let’s walk.”

She kept her eyes ahead as they wandered down the makeshift rows of carnival games and food booths, smiling at the occasional passerby. He was quiet, most likely waiting for her to elaborate, yet she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to open up to him.

He was her employee, after all.

She glanced at him. His eyes were focused in front of them, leading Roxie through the crowd that had started to gather.

“I actually kind of hated it here.” She kept her eyes straight ahead. “I talked a lot of trash about this town. I guess I just wanted a different life. I mean, did you ever feel like there was something more you were supposed to do? Like you should’ve done it by now?”

Somehow, his silence encouraged her to go on.

“I went to college in the city, and by my senior year, I had this great internship with my dream company. I was in the running for a full-time job there after I graduated, but the job went to someone else.”

“Guess it wasn’t your job, then.”

She frowned.

“I mean, if the door didn’t open, it wasn’t your door.”

She laughed. “Did you read that in a fortune cookie?”

“I might have, actually.” He tugged Roxie away from a box of popcorn someone had dropped on the ground.

“I didn’t see it that way. I was crushed. I graduated and came back here, you know, to figure out my life, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“You might’ve skipped a little bit in there.”

“Like what?”

“Like, why didn’t you go back to the city and get a different job?”

She pressed her lips together, figuring out how to reply. “My dad had a great business here—a manufacturing company. They make two specific parts for lawn mowers. Doesn’t that sound glamorous?”

The corner of his mouth turned up in one of his trademark nonsmiles.

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