Page 202 of Better When Shared
I was doing my best not to worry, but he’d left suddenly for England, just a few days after our fun on the beach.
There was something about his explanation of the work matter he had to handle that felt off, more like the old Hamish than the man he’d become over the past weeks. Perhaps our little island adventure with Makai had spoiled me, allowing me to see Hamish as the free spirit I wished him to be instead of the disciplined workaholic he most often was.
What if his change was only temporary?
I wished everything felt more secure, but it was all so new. My job, Hamish’s newfound sense of adventure, even whatever wasgoing on with Makai. Everything was thrilling, but nothing was defined. And despite the fact that Hamish had given me explicit permission to sleep with Makai while he was gone, I didn’t know if that was what Makai would want.
The three of us had fallen into a surprisingly comfortable rhythm, but Makai and I had never been truly alone together, and I wasn’t even sure we got along.
I shook my head, forcing myself to refocus on work. I had a wedding to coordinate in two days, and another the following weekend. No time for moping about like a lovesick teenager. For the first time in my adult life, I had a purpose that had nothing to do with my relationship with Hamish. And I bloody well loved it.
“Imogen! There you are.”
I turned to see my bosses Marco and Juniper Torres, striding across the lobby with their shared boyfriend, Tristan. As I watched them, knowing they were a committed polycule, I tried not to let my mind travel back to Makai and Hamish, but the parallels were difficult to ignore. Juniper and Marco were both American, and Tristan was British. How had they made it work when they’d started out on different continents?
I ached to ask them, but wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate. Besides, the three of them were in a far different income bracket than me, and I had a feeling the answer might include luxuries we couldn’t afford. Sure, Hamish and I were well off, and Makai had his own business, but none of us were capable of buying aprivate jet to fly around the world and make sure we got to spend time with each other.
My employers looked like they’d just stepped off the pages of a luxury travel magazine focused on bohemian fashion; Marco in casual linen, Juniper in a flowing sundress and funky jewelry. Tristan contrasted with them, somehow making even resort wear look crisp and formal.
“I was just checking the Anderson wedding setup,” I said, offering my most professional smile. “It’s all going well. The florist delivered early, and I wanted to make sure everything was properly refrigerated.”
“Always on top of things.” Marco’s dimples deepened when he smiled. “That’s what we love about you.”
“Speaking of which, we were hoping to catch you for a chat.” Juniper hooked her arm through her husband’s. “Got a minute?”
“Of course.” I followed them to a quiet corner of the lobby where plush chairs surrounded a low table. Whatever this was about, it felt more significant than a casual check-in, and nerves settled in my stomach.
“We’ve been so impressed with your work here,” Marco began, leaning forward in his chair. “The way you’ve transformed our event planning department is nothing short of miraculous.”
Juniper nodded enthusiastically. “The Benson wedding? Pure magic. And the way you handled that last-minute crisis with the Liu anniversary party? I would have lost my shit completely.”
“What we’re trying to say,” Tristan cut in, “is that we’d like to discuss your future with the Bindery Group.”
My stomach dropped as they brought up the looming end of my contract. I had less than five weeks left. Then what? Back to Dorset, to the horses and the charity boards and polite dinner parties? The thought filled me with a peculiar dread.
We’d have to leave Makai behind.
“My future?” I forced my voice to remain steady as I wondered if the news was good or bad.
Marco’s eyes lit up. “Imogen, we’d like to offer you a permanent position as our Director of Events for the Northwest Region. It wouldn’t be just for the Cannery, but for five Pacific Northwest properties.”
“The Cannery could be your home base, if you’d like,” Juniper added. “We want to turn this particular location into a premier event venue. But you’d have someone under you to manage some of the day-to-day, so that you could bring your big ideas to the table. Like the altar on the cliff? It’s stunning.”
“You have a remarkable eye for detail and an instinct for what works,” Tristan added. “We need someone with your talents to help turn our hotels into wedding destinations.”
Pride swelled in my chest. “That’s... incredibly flattering. I don’t even know what to say. You truly like my work that much?”
“Of course, dear. You’ve been wonderful,” Tristan said, smiling. Of all of them, I’d known Tristan the longest. His cousin Gemma was my best friend, and though we’d never been very close, his opinion meant the world to me. Was this what success felt like? If so, I wanted more of it.
For the first time in a long time, a future played out in front of me that wasn’t just about pleasing Hamish and living our quiet country life.
Hamish. My heart dropped. “It would mean relocating permanently. Our home in Dorset—”
“We do understand that it’s a lot to consider. We don’t expect an answer right away,” Marco said. “And should you decide you need to move back to England, we’ll be happy to give you our glowing recommendation. I’m sure you could find work anywhere.”
“But the Cannery is here for you if you want it,” Juniper said. “We can discuss your compensation when you are ready, but I can assure you that our offer will be quite generous.”
Pride swelled in my chest, and my mind raced, possibilities and worries battling with each other. “I’d need to discuss this with Hamish. It’s a significant change. He may not want to leave his family home in Dorset.”
