Chapter Thirty-One
THE CROWD CHEERED as the winner pranced around the ring with her hands in the air. Jana took her wounded ego and battered body back to the locker room, shrugging off Brock’s consoling words and trying to ignore the blood dripping down her cheek. She’d been so sidetracked about Hunter’s cursory text, and the guilt of missing his competition, that she’d completely lost focus.
She reached into her purse for her phone, and the key Hunter had made fell to the floor, landing with a hollow ping. She swiped at the sweat dripping from her brow, then scrubbed her hand over her face, wincing as her hand touched the welt below her right eye where she’d taken a nasty blow.
Wiping the blood from her hand on her shorts, she leaned down and picked up the simple reminder of their argument. Staring at it lying in her palm, she lowered herself to the bench. Hunter had taken the effort to make the key, when she’d been too busy to even notice that they were living together. His clothes were in her dresser, in her closet. He was there nearly every night. It wasn’t a matter of if she was ready for the opening act. They were the opening act, and had been for quite some time. They were the best opening act! She’d made such a big deal out of the key, and he hadn’t thrown it in her face, or given her an ultimatum. He’d wrapped it gently in her hand and kissed her knuckles.
He loved her. It was evident in everything he did, everything he said—and everything he didn’t say.
And I missed the first part of his competition for a stupid fight and dirty danced like he didn’t matter. What on earth is wrong with me?
She rose to her feet and stuffed her gear into her bag, gathered her purse in her arms, and breathing so hard she felt on the brink of tears, she burst through the locker room doors.
How could she have been so stupid?
“Jana!” Brock caught up to her. “Let me clean up your cut.”
“Can’t. I gotta go.” How could she have said those things to him? We’re not living together. Of course they were. Geez, he must think she was crazy.
“But we’re having a—”
Jana spun around and pressed one hand to her brother’s chest. “I hate to let you down, Brock, but I have a key to deliver.”
His confused gaze made her laugh. She kissed his cheek and ran out the front door.
Her phone vibrated as she tossed her things in the backseat.
She started the car, feeling like she’d won something much bigger than a stupid boxing match. Hunter was right. Everything she wanted was right there in front of her, and she was done being too stubborn to see it.
She drove too fast, making the long drive in record time.
Jana drove down to Wellfleet Harbor, searching for a parking place. Crowds of people spilled from the grass, where the competition was being held, into the street. There were lights shining on a makeshift stage, and after driving up to the parking lot at the pier and finding that lot full, too, she gave up and double-parked.
With Hunter’s key in her hand, she ran down the road, past the Pearl Restaurant, past the gallery and the Bookstore Restaurant, where she was swallowed into the crowd. Her heart was beating so hard, and people were looking at her funny, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was seeing Hunter. She hadn’t even seen his sculpture. Gosh, she really did suck, but she was done being sucky. She was there, with the key to her house, and she was ready to give him everything he wanted. Everything she wanted.
She pushed through the crowd, going up on her toes to look over people’s shoulders and squeezing between couples and children. Until finally. Finally. She could see the stage.
Hunter looked so handsome, in his dark slacks and white shirt, standing beside Grayson. There were six other men and women standing with them. Parker Collins looked as gorgeous as she did on the big screen, and for a millisecond, jealousy clawed at Jana. She shook it off, too focused on why she was there to let anything else rattle her. Parker stood with a man Jana didn’t recognize at the center of the stage, holding microphones.
Please let him win. Please let him win.
Her hands were shaking, and her heart was so full of hope. He’d given her everything. He deserved this more than any other person on earth.
Parker stepped forward and spoke into the microphone. “Thank you all for bearing with us while we took the extra time this afternoon to make our final decisions. Let’s give a hand to each of our talented participants.”
The crowd clapped, and Jana’s stomach sank. Had she missed the award?
When the crowd quieted, Parker turned to face Hunter and the others.
“The reason we took a little longer to make our decision was that we were not only blown away by each of the artists, but we’ve also decided to extend a bigger prize to the winner.”
Please, please say Hunter Lacroux.
“We have two winners of the competition, two very talented brothers, who have lived on the Cape their whole lives. Please give a hand to Hunter and Grayson Lacroux, of Grunter’s Ironworks.”
Tears sprang from Jana’s eyes as she applauded. You won. Thank goodness.
Parker shook Hunter’s and Grayson’s hands. “Your work is incredible, and we’re proud to offer you not only the two-year contract to work with the Collins Children’s Foundation, but we’d like to have you work on-site.”
Hunter and Grayson exchanged a glance, and Jana listened intently.
“You’ll be joining our team of artists not only to work in the LA office,” Parker said excitedly, “but traveling around the country for the next two years, working at our satellite offices, all expenses paid.”
The pit of Jana’s stomach knotted. She stumbled backward, tripping over a woman’s leg.
“Sorry,” she mumbled as she pushed her way back through the crowd toward her car. She felt her heart breaking with every unsteady step. LA. Two years of all-expenses-paid traveling. She couldn’t give Hunter the key now. Not when he had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in the palm of his hands.