Chapter Five
Lucas
Three months later...
“Just give me the list already.” I jutted my hand out at Warren again and demanded the list of places the studio considered for the new show. My temperament left a lot to be desired in the last few months, and him going through each one like some kind of pompous real estate agent wasn’t going to cut it.
There wasn’t enough coffee in the world to handle that crap.
“Fine, here. They asked that you narrow the list down to three today.” Warren sounded as exasperated with me as I was with myself.
The original list of possible towns to film the new reality show I’d signed up for was over thirty, and since then I’d narrowed it down significantly, dismissing some of them sight unseen. Every week, the studio and the producers hounded me to pick a spot, and I was ready to crumple up this piece of paper and shove it up their—
“What about this one?” Warren interrupted my thoughts. “It’s a smaller town than the rest and really charming. They have a Greek restaurant that looks like it hasn’t been tended to in decades.”
I pushed the other pictures aside to look at of the one he pointed to. It looked quaint with an attractive main drag and picturesque town hall. The restaurant had seen better days, but it had bones, and bones I could work with.
“What’s the name of this one?” I asked, going straight to my computer to google it.
“Mapleville. So vintage sounding.” I think Warren wanted to live in Mapleville from his reaction.
The town seemed nice enough. Florist, coffee shop, run-of-the-mill diner, and everything else you would expect in a small town. It actually looked like a nice place to live. I’d bet people moved to Mapleville to raise families.
“Where have I heard this name?” I tapped my temple. I listened to people talk to me all day, most of them wanting something from me. But I knew for sure the name Mapleville had come up.
“Holy crap. I know where.” Warren sprang from his chair and grabbed his iPad where he flipped through something. “I take pictures of every business card I get. And this one was a doozy. I know it’s in here. It’s a wood-finish card.”
I leaned back in my desk chair. “We have connections in Mapleville?”
A blush bloomed on his face. “Well, you have a connection in Mapleville. Boy, I deserve a raise for this one.”
“Show me.” Finally, he landed on what he was after and shoved the iPad in my face. I slapped my hand over my mouth, feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet as I read the name of the business and, more specifically, the owner. Of course. Mapleville. The place where the one who slipped away lived.
The one I thought about almost every second.
The one I dreamed about at night.
The one who was long gone the next morning when I woke and turned over to see the other pillow void of him.
Harrison.
Harrison lived in Mapleville and his shop was there, and he was there...and he was there.
I gathered up all the pictures in a disorganized bundle, not the least bit interested in any other prospect. “Call the studio. Tell the producers I’ve decided on Mapleville, and if they don’t agree, tell them I’m not doing the show. That’s it. End of story.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Just like that? That Harrison guy…”
I zeroed my best stink eye at him, but then let out a long sigh. Warren had put up with quite a bit from me since that fateful craft show. I’d been moody and irrational—downright temper-driven in most cases. And that was after I got over the week of moping around and not showering.
He was the one who came to the apartment and snapped me out of it.
And, while I went about my life, I didn’t think there was a chance in hell of ever getting over Harrison Graham—ever.
“What about him? Stole my heart? Didn’t answer my calls or texts? Left me with nothing but a memory?”
Warren pouted a little. “All of that. Yes. You haven’t been the same, since, and you have yet to unpack all the stuff you had me buy from him.”
I exhaled and turned my chair to look out the window at the city skyline. I bet Harrison was looking out on mountains or forest or whatever naturescape surrounded his house, not thinking about me. “I can’t look at it, yet. But if the producers go for Mapleville, which I think they will, we’ll make sure his stuff is in every shot. I’ll see if I can unpack it tonight. It might do me good. We’ll bring it all down there when we go. Speaking of, let’s plan a weekend trip to scope it out.”
“And see Harrison.”
I turned back around and pointed at him. “Don’t get cheeky, Warren. Just because I told you some lovey-dovey crap doesn’t mean you’re my dating coach or whatever. And yes, we will find Harrison.”
I’d become straight-up ridiculous since beard and tattoos broke me in two.
“Okay, then. I’ll go book some flights and yell at some producers and not be your dating coach. Anything else you need?”
“Yeah, cancel all my orders of Hans’s salmon. He tried to pass off frozen as fresh this morning and pissed me off.”
“Yes, Sir. Mapleville, here we come. Hans, you’re in the toilet.”
I wrapped my arms around my torso, thinking of the possibilities awaiting me in Mapleville. Yes, there was the show, but even though my life had been nothing but work, work, work since I’d gotten out of school, the dream for more still burned like an ember in my heart.
Maybe Harrison could ignite the spark—again.