Page 52 of Happy After All

As I drive Nathan to the meeting, I feel his discomfort amping up. He doesn’t want to do this, and he is anyway. I’ve never met a man so grudgingly good. I’ve met plenty of assholes pretending to be nice, and plenty of assholes who don’t pretend to be anything but what they are.

I’ve never met someone so grumpy, withdrawn, and generally cranky who seems like he’s exploding with integrity he didn’t ask for.

We have a little bit of time before the meeting, so I decide to drive to the other end of town first. “I want you to see what it looks like,” I say.

He shifts in his seat as we drive through the ravaged part of town. On either side of the road there are hollowed-out apartments and restaurants. Some places are only ashen rubble. In the middle of one of the most severely burned-out spots, a fast-food restaurant still stands. Abandoned, but unharmed.

“This is awful,” he says.

“Yeah,” I concur. “I wanted you to see it because you’ve already agreed to help, so I know I’m not emotionally blackmailing you. But I want you to see how important it is. It’s not just about me beating Christopher. Or about him not thinking I’m sad. This is what’s left of this part of town, and unless we do something to help, it’s not going to get better for a long time. I’ll be honest, Nathan: I wanted a Christmas miracle. I think you could be it.”

He rubs a hand over his face. “I want to help. But I’m not miraculous.”

“You showed up at the right time,” I say.

He’s silent for a moment. “I can accept that.”

We drive slowly back to the right side of town and into the parking lot of the meeting venue.

“This is it,” I say as we pull up.

“This is ... Well, there’s a snake on the side of the building.”

“You haven’t gotten out in town that much, have you?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, welcome. I think it’s charming.”

“Yes,” he says, regarding me closely. “I can see that you do.”

We get out of the car, and I realize I may not have adequately warned him about how ... quirky everyone could be.

But it’s too late because we have entered the building and it is already filled with my fellow Rancho Encanto citizens.

I gesture to the front row, where there are still three empty seats, and try to fend people off as we cross the room. “He’s part of my announcement,” I say. “Just wait.”

So we sit and wait for Sylvia to convene the meeting.

Once she does, I raise my hand. “I have business,” I say. “I know we had everything settled for the event, but there’s been a development.”

“I hope it’s not another Culkingate,” Sylvia says.

“No. It’s the opposite. Kind of.” I stand up and make my way to the front. “It just so happens I have a guest staying in my motel who has agreed to put on an event. I believe it could attract a lot more people. We can sell tickets.”

“Who is it?” Reigna asks, looking very concerned that I’m about to upstage her.

“Jacob Coulter,” I say.

Nathan stands, and something in his bearing changes. It’s like that moment when I recognized him from his author photo. There is a subtle difference in how he carries himself when he’s being his author self. Hemight avoid things like the set of his own TV show, but he certainly knows how to behave when necessary. I wonder if that’s why it’s so important to him to have such a stark divide between his personal and professional life. Nathan doesn’t perform for anyone. Jacob Coulter, on the other hand, really looks like he knows what he’s doing.

“I’ve spoken with Amelia, and if it’s something you think the venue can accommodate, we can sell a package that includes a signed copy of my newest book and a talk that includes a Q and A.”

“That’s amazing,” says Sylvia. “Mr. Coulter, I am such a huge fan of your work.”

Sylvia not only looks starstruck, she looks dumbstruck, because Nathan is gloriously attractive.

Then Reigna stands up, her hands clasped up by her throat like an indignant rodent, and I realize she thinks I’m stepping on her toes. She brought the celebrity, and I’m now competing with her celebrity.

---