Page 43 of Happy After All

Especially to admit to him.

“And that works for you?”

“It’s preferable,” I say.

I like to have my characters’ thoughts in my head. Or to have conversation happening around me. My own thoughts often feel hostile.

“Not my experience,” he says.

“Yes. I have noticed that you prefer time alone.”

I’m about to ask him if he wants to do an event. If he’ll help me with the fundraiser. If he’ll help me defeat my evil ex-boyfriend.

But right then, we arrive at the Pink Flamingo, and I can’t bring myself to ask something of him for some reason. He’s tired, and I can feel it. Not physically. There’s something more, and I can’t put my finger on it. He hands me my bags, and the beer.

“As amazing as your frozen meals look ... Barbecue. In the courtyard.”

“I’ll think about it,” he says.

Yet again, I already know he’s lying.

I think hedidthink about it and he decided not to do it. I don’t know how I know that. Like so many things about him, I just do.

“Great,” I say. “Hopefully I’ll see you then.”

I say that like I don’t know he’s blowing me off.

Because I hope it will make him feel bad. A little bit.

As he turns to go, I notice a hardness to his expression that I can’t untangle. Which is when I remember he’s the same man who made me think he was going to kiss me when in fact he was just taking a power strip out of my hand. A man I thought I was ... getting closer to, when after that near kiss, he didn’t speak to me for the last month he was in residence.

I persist in trying to make Nathan someone I’m getting to know.

While he persists in making sure I can’t.

Chapter Eleven

He doesn’t come to the barbecue, and I can’t say I’m terribly surprised. He’s made it very clear he’s antisocial and perfectly happy with that. Except he doesn’t seem happy, not to me. Maybe I’m just nitpicking him because I’m in a state of anticipatory dread over tonight’s meeting about A Very Desert Christmas and all I can think about is ... if there will be more details about Christopher and his impending invasion on the town.

I’m fizzing with adrenaline by the time I pull into the little community meeting hall parking lot.

I take my seat next to Sylvia and smile. I’m still trying to look completely unaffected, even if I’m only marginally unaffected.

Right. You’re definitely completely fine and not spiraling.

I feel this should not be deemed a spiral, since I’m at the meeting, I got my word count today, and I saw to my duties at the motel.

I’m functioning. So how can I be spiraling?

The truth is, I was fine before I got here. Really. I’ve been distracted.

The first portion of the meeting is dedicated to schematics. The schematics of everything being laid out in our venue. I planned this, so I’m more than familiar, and everything looks great, with every stall spoken for, and presales of tickets are still going at a brisk pace.

“The children’s choir is doing afantasticaljob,” Reigna says when she gets up and it’s her time to speak. “But that’s not my surprise for you tonight.”

She spreads her arms wide, the caftan she’s wearing billowing around her like wings.

As if by the magic of her theatrics, a screen begins to lower from the ceiling behind her. There’s a presentation, clearly.

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