Page 1 of Something Like Sunflowers

Chapter 1

Devyn

Calm your darn britches! I huff as my hands curl into the edge of the sleek metal chair, willing myself to relax before I ruin my newly manicured nails. I snatch my hand back, noting how the rounded tips still sparkle with the sunflower-shaped, jewel-encrusted finish that I just had done last night, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

I haven’t been this nervous since my first pageant. In fact, I don’t get nervous. So, the butterflies that have taken up residence in my belly are entirely unwelcome.

I’ve been waiting my whole adult career for this moment, the chance to work for a company both female-dominated and that happens to be the retailer of my absolute favorite line of country-chic clothing. There isn’t a single girl in my hometown who doesn’t own one of their shirts or bags—the ones with puppies and cows sketched in pinks and lavenders.

I own more than I care to count.

This isn’t an interview for just any position, either.

This is for their new Marketing Outreach and Influence Branch. It’s not even an established department yet, so their goal is to find someone to build it from the ground up.

A thrill shoots through me as I plan a future for myself that’s…for once in my life, something I choose.

This could finally be my opportunity to throw my creativity into something again, and I can’t let anything jeopardize it.

But things have tested me today, that’s for sure.

I barely even made it here on time because some absolute d-i-c-k, the size of a linebacker, bumped me, spilling my piping hot caramel macchiato on not only me but a poor older woman—who had amazingly gorg Condora-Suede Stiletto Louboutins, by the way. I almost cry thinking about it again. My coffee absolutely ruined those shoes.

May they rest in peace.

He who shall not be named—mainly because I didn’t catch it before he dematerialized—ended up just glaring at me as if I were the one who bumped him. I mean, completely gawking at me through his stupid camo sunglasses and sexy blondish-reddish scruff of a beard that he absolutely should never shave, and then he just left!

He didn’t even say sorry. Definitely didn’t help me clean myself up. And that poor woman…

I hope she didn’t think I was rude.

I was so distracted by Chad Michael Muscles and his lack of apologies that I didn’t get a chance to explain myself. Or check on her shoes, more importantly.

Oh, well. I made it here. Despite one heck of a morning in this crazy city.

And the only thing that matters is that I land this job.

I don’t hate my current job, exactly. It’s just…

I already quit.

I tend to do these things, just jump right on in and hope to God there’s a lifeboat or some sort of saving grace at the bottom of the watering hole, rather than thinking things through and making plans. It’s not the best way to live life, if I’m being totally honest with myself. But it is effective in enacting change, that’s for sure.

I haven’t told anyone aside from my brother. I have especially been avoiding conversations with Dad.

But it was so boring day in and out, showing up at the station for hair and makeup at two in the morning, running through mic checks and lighting checks and sound checks, and pantyhose-sticking-to-the-back-of-your-skirt checks…all of it to just stand there for an hour and tell people about the ten-mile delay on I-95.

I can’t stand it anymore.

I thought I’d be covering real stories, doing something fun or exciting or even dangerous, but I’m over it. I’ve done nothing but traffic jams and crime kickers for four years now, and I’m not even sure I like being on the news anymore. I don’t want to waste my life on stuff I hate just because I’m Devyn Lynn, the Girl with the Facts before Five.

I’ve made a cutesy little name for myself here in the news circles, because for some reason everyone just loves my accent. Honestly? I didn’t think I had one. But a few bless your hearts too many, and Channel Five basically declared me their personal Annie Oakley. Now I can’t end a single segment without saying, “This is Devyn Lynn and that’s been your Highway Ho-down!”

It’s taken me a long time to realize this, but a huge part of me misses the love of life that I had before I ever moved to the city.

Before I was a commodity.

I’m only a stone’s throw away, but it’s not quite the same. It’s the pageants and the nightlife, the community, and the rodeos. It’s horses and manure and entire fields of flowers.

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