Page 33 of Forever with the Mountain Man

“This is not what we discussed originally.” His voice slices open the silence.

“I know,” I say quietly, staring at my hands in my lap and sniffling.

“What happened to your hillbilly romcom?”

“Well, Sir, that’s not what I found in Rough & Ready Country. There were no redneck, country bumpkins. Just hardworking immigrants trying to forge a new life while holding onto time-honored traditions and languages. And a younger generation navigating the tension of family expectations and their own desires. It’s the story of all of us, Sir. Although most of us have been here so long, we no longer remember what we’ve lost.”

“Spoken like an anthropology major. This is what I get for taking a chance on you.”

“With all due respect, Sir. Several colleagues who write for the paper read it, and they agree it’s a fitting and well-written examination of immigration and multicultural romance. They also think it’s a surprisingly poignant end to the series. A breath of fresh air.”

“Fitting and poignant? A breath of fresh air? I don’t want fitting and poignant. I don’t want fresh fucking air. I want what we originally discussed, a lighthearted parody of rural America.”

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t deliver on that. But I hope you’ll reconsider publishing the article. It’s the culmination of painstaking, in-field research.”

McDuffey opens his mouth, but the phone rings, interrupting him. Picking up the receiver, he answers, “Yes?”

Silence follows as he listens intently, his face hardening and growing redder by the second. Finally, he holds the phone towards me saying, “My boss, Ms. Forsythe, would like a word with you.”

My heart races, and I’m unsure my legs will hold me when I stand. I lean against McDuffey’s desk, fielding the call. “Hello, Felicity James here.”

“I’ve got to hand it to you. Your final story for the relationship column wasn’t what I expected. But it was more heartfelt and moving than anything you’ve written in the seriesthus far. Not only have I advised McDuffey that it will go to press. But I’d like to offer you a permanent position with the Chronicle if you’re interested. You don’t have to decide immediately, but look for an email from HR outlining the full offer. I hope this is the beginning of a fruitful relationship. Kudos for following your journalistic instincts and not caving to editorial pressure. Now, if you wouldn’t mind putting McDuffey back on the phone, I’d like to continue my conversation with him.”

“Thank you so very much.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

Chapter Twelve

FELICITY

“Oh, girl!” Callie exclaims, sauntering through Café de la Presse towards me. I look at my bestie and burst into tears, destroying the collected persona I’ve worked all morning to create. I knew this would happen the moment I saw her empathetic face. It’s why I kept my makeup sparing today with no mascara.

In truth, I look like a shell of myself, despite the curled hair and professional black pantsuit I wore to meet with McDuffey.

“How was your trip?” she asks, the picture of style as always, from her perfectly coiffed afro to her shiny green eye shadow, magenta lips, and purple silk shirt with tight, black leather pants.

I sigh, unsure of how to answer the question. After a moment’s reflection, I say, “Intense, blissful, cataclysmic, heartbreaking.”

“Oh no.” She knits her eyebrows. “Was there another woman? Or secrets he was keeping from you?”

I shake my head. “Nope, just a family who looked like they were about to string me up the last time I saw them and a wannabe fiancée who spat in my face.”

“Wait, what? Hold on a minute!” Callie presses her fingers into her temples.

“Yeah. His mother arranged to have a bride shipped from the Basque Country to the United States to marry him. He wanted nothing to do with her and made that abundantly clear, declaring me his intended bride. But the woman still spat on me and tried to jump me, and I saw a side of his family so awful, I don’t know if I can ever stomach going back there.

“Oh, my goodness! An arranged marriage. But you said he refused the woman and declared you his intended mate? Where do you two stand now?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I do know because he was so sweet and loving with me. It was the best weekend of my life. But he confided something in me that has me worried.”

“What?”

“That with me by his side, he has the strength to stand up to his parents and forge his own path. But what happens now? With me not by his side? Will he give in? Cave to their insane demands?”

“With how you described him and how deeply devoted he is to you, there’s no way. I can’t imagine it. But what has he said since you left?”

“It’s been non-stop since leaving his place between driving the four hours back here, pulling an uber-long day yesterday to make my deadline this morning and meeting with my editor. Fierce sent me one text that I responded to Wednesday evening, letting him know I was safely back. And he texted yesterday morning as always. But nothing so far this morning. And there hasn’t been time for processing things, let alone discussing them together.”

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