Page 37 of The Maine Event

“Exactly,” he interrupts, his voice brimming with excitement. “Let’s go all out. Hire a caterer, get some live music, the works.”

My mind reels at the sudden shift. “Dan, that’s a lovely thought, but the expense… I mean, a full-scale party like that could cost a significant amount.”

He waves off my concern, his eyes gleaming with determination. “It’s fine. Like I said, let’s do it properly.”

I bite my lip, torn between the desire to create a magical experience for Dan and Chloe and the practical voice in my head screaming about budgets and financial responsibility. “I hear you, but we need to be realistic. You’re a single dad, and I know how tough it can be to make ends meet.”

Dan glances over to Chloe, who is already on her phone messaging her friends with the news. He leans forward conspiratorially. “I appreciate your concern. I really do. But I’ve got this covered. Trust me.”

The sincerity in his voice gives me confidence, but I can’t quite shake the nagging worry. “I do trust you, Dan. I just don’t want you to overextend yourself for the sake of one party.”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Who says it’s just one party? Maybe I’m planning on making this an annual tradition.”

Dan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sleek black credit card. He scribbles a figure on a scrap of paper and slides them both across the table towards me.

“What’s this?”

“The budget for the party,” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Whatever you need to make this perfect. I just don’t like to talk about money in front of Chloe.”

I stare at the figure on the paper, my heart pounding. It’s more than I would have ever imagined spending on a housewarming party. More than I would have thought Dan could afford.

“Dan, this is… Are you sure about this? It’s a lot of money.”

He leans forward, his eyes locking with mine. “I made a lot during my time on the show—more than I knew what to do with at the time. I invested some of it, and I’ve been careful since. It’s not an issue.”

A faint smile plays on his lips, and I catch the flicker of pride in his eyes. It’s clear he’s not just throwing money at the problem—he’s thought it through.

Reassured, I reach for the card, my fingers brushing against his, a jolt of what feels like electricity running through me. I glance up, wondering if he feels it too.

But he’s already moving on, reaching for his phone. “Right,” he says, pulling out a pen and notepad from a kitchen drawer. “I’m going to write down some contact numbers. My guest list. I’ll also write down anyone I think might be useful. I think I have a few caterers and suppliers I used when we first bought the house, but I’ll warn you now, some of these numbers might be dead now.”

Dan tops my glass up and good to his word, he copies out the names and numbers for me.

“Okay, first things first. Theme. I’m thinking ‘Enchanted Forest.’ We can transform your backyard into a magical woodland wonderland.”

I close my eyes, picturing it. Twinkling lights strung up in the trees, garlands of greenery, maybe even a few whimsical toadstools scattered about.

“I love it,” Dan says, his voice soft. “It’s perfect.”

As Dan scribbles down more numbers, I lean back in my chair, running a finger over the rim of my wineglass. It feels good to be planning something, to have a project that requires creativity and focus. I know I’m doing this for Chloe—she deserves a magical night, something to celebrate. And I’m doing it for Dan, too—helping him open up to his friends and neighbors again.

But there’s another part of me that’s desperate for this to work, and I’m not sure it’s entirely altruistic. Maybe it’s because the idea of being useful, of doing something tangible, keeps the gnawing sense of failure at bay. An elaborate distraction. Easier to plan a party than to sit in that motel room, dissecting every moment from today’s meeting. Wondering if I’m as good as I thought. Or worse—realizing I’ve been bluffing all along. Or even worse, realizing that maybe I’ve been bluffing my way through my entire career.

I shake off the thought, focusing on the task at hand. Organizing this party gives me purpose—it feels like something I can actually control, unlike the ash cloud or the Harcourt deal or the way my entire life feels suspended, stuck in some sort of limbo. If I can pull this off, if I can make it beautiful and memorable and perfect for Chloe, maybe I can prove to myself that I’m still good at something.

“Hey, you okay?” Dan’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been staring blankly at the notepad.

I muster a smile and nod. “Yeah, just thinking through ideas. I’ve got this covered.”

He gives me a warm, appreciative smile, and something in my chest loosens just a little. I’m not going to let my own insecurities ruin this. Not for them. And not for me.

TEN

I drive myself to Dan’s in the big red beast and opt for quite a circuitous route, convincing myself that I’m sightseeing, when the truth is, I just really love driving an enormous pickup. I am officially converted.

I pull up to Dan’s house, the engine rumbling like a small earthquake as I shift into park. It’s ridiculous—practically a monster truck compared to my sleek city car back home—but at this point, I’ve just accepted that Maine and I have very different ideas about appropriate transportation.

Dan steps out onto the porch as I kill the engine, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “Compensating for something?”

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