Page 12 of Clued in to Love
“I’m sorry to hear that, Darby.” He sounded sincere and looked at Darby with a swell of empathy. Darby had forgotten how soft-spoken he was and how his naturally calming aura created a ripple of serene energy. “I know it’s not the same, but I lost both parents this past year. My dad to Alzheimer’s and then my mom shortly after to a heart attack, although I’m convinced that caring for him took a toll on her.” A sadness that Darby felt an instant kinship with clouded his face. “I helped as much as I could. I tried to get her to agree to put him in care, but she was determined to keep him at home.”
“That must have been difficult.”
“It’s life. Our parents care for us. Then we care for them.” He rolled his shoulders and stood taller. “This is supposed to be a night of fun. In fact, I’ve been told that this is the biggest event of the year. I shouldn’t be bringing down the mood. I should be trying to lighten this moment. You don’t want to hear about my problems. Tell me about you. How have you been? Are you competing in the hunt?”
Darby suddenly felt overwhelmed. The cold she felt earlier had vanished, replaced by something that closely resembled a hot flash. Her cheeks were warm, and she was almost tempted to take off her knee-length parka and walk around in nothing more than the long-sleeve T-shirt she wore underneath. “No, I’m supposed to cut the ribbon. Hilary invited me. She took over Jim’s position after he…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.
“Oh, Jim Reynolds. Right. Sorry.” Samesh connected the dots on his own. Then he gently tapped the side of his forehead as if scolding himself. “Hilary told me about him and how he started this entire event. Impressive. It’s quite a tribute to your late husband. I’ve heard nothing but good things about him.”
Darby forced a smile and changed the subject. “What about you? Are you living in Bend again?”
Samesh pointed to the parks department emblem on his ski jacket. “I took a job at the parks department a few weeks ago. After my parents died, I needed a change. I needed to do something for myself, so I decided I wanted a fresh start, and I always wanted to find my way back to Bend after college. It seemed like fate. I guess it is.” His eyes lingered on Darby briefly before he nodded to the hot chocolate station. “I think I blocked you from getting a cup of cocoa. I’ll walk that way with you, and then I should get back to work, but I’d love to meet for coffee or dinner and catch up.”
“I’d like that.” The words escaped her lips before she could take them back.
Samesh grinned. “Great. Maybe this is fate.”
SEVEN
HILARY
Hilary wanted to kick herself—literally—for inviting Darby to the ribbon-cutting ceremony. It was her own fault. Darby had been so hesitant on the phone. She’d ghosted Hilary in email for weeks. Hilary should have trusted her gut, but the mayor and city council had insisted that she do something to honor Jim. She had suggested a permanent plaque in the park or a slideshow collage of photos through the years. They’d vetoed the slideshow in favor of speeches and inviting Darby. The plaque was a go, but that didn’t solve her immediate problem. Who was going to speak tonight? As in just a few minutes from now?
Panic began to well as her eyes darted through the growing crowd. There had to be close to a thousand people already meandering through the vendor booths. The anticipatory hum of the crowd buzzing like bees awoken too early from their winter hibernation filled the air.
The agenda had been worked and reworked down to the minute. Hilary scanned the crowd again. The mayor was on his way from the city council meeting and wouldn’t arrive until just before his allotted time. But the mayor had a reputation for ripping into anyone if they weren’t prepared for meetings. She and the mayor had gotten off to a bad start. Hilary suspectedit was because of Passport to the Holidays. The scavenger hunt was a Chamber of Commerce event.Her event.
Her staff had warned her from day one that the mayor liked to always be in the center spotlight and apparently had tried to take control of the event. But Hilary could handle him. She didn’t need accolades or praise, but she did need him to stay in his own lane. She’d ensured he had plenty of time in the spotlight over the next ten days. He’d probably find a way to take credit for the event’s success. That was fine with her as long as Passport to the Holidays was a success.
Maybe she could snag a Chamber of Commerce member to jump in and take Darby’s place. But who?
Her pinky had turned white from the cold. She shook it with force, trying to get feeling back. Her watch buzzed to life with a warning. She had set reminders to go off every five minutes, counting down to the kickoff. She had exactly twenty minutes to find someone who not only could give a speech on the fly but who knew the history of Passport to the Holidays and, at the very least, knew something about Jim.
Think, Hilary.
Her phone vibrated in her jacket pocket. She reached inside to see Ben’s face flashing on her screen. She didn’t have time to talk. Not now. She hit Decline and continued to weave her way through the throng of people. The marching band funneled in formation, playing “Jingle Bells” as they high-stepped toward the amphitheater.
Crap.
She was running out of time.
A text message dinged on her phone, followed by another, and then another. All from Ben.
God. What does he want?
Hilary glanced at her screen. Ben was blowing up her phone. Sometimes she almost wondered if he was trying to sabotageher new career. It’s not as if he wasn’t acutely aware of how important tonight was for her.
“Hilary.” Ben’s voice echoed in her head.
Great, now she was hearing his voice everywhere.
I’m really starting to lose it, she thought as she turned away from the band.
“Hilary, I’m right here.” Ben appeared like an apparition from behind an unsuspecting group dressed in matching candy cane stocking hats. His shaggy blond hair fell over his left eye. He was dressed in his usual attire: well-worn jeans, a wool sweater with a vest over the top, and snow boots. Ben was like a human form of a golden retriever—easy-going, affable, capable of running for miles without so much as breaking a sweat, and just a little too blissfully unaware of how the real world worked sometimes.
He removed a bouquet of velvet red roses dotted with sprigs of seeded eucalyptus from behind his back. The same flowers from their wedding. The same flowers he’d bought for her for every birthday and holiday. “Surprise and congratulations.” He thrust the flowers at her.
What was she going to do with a bouquet of flowers now?
