Page 58 of Finally Home

Ollie:Seems I’m not the only one who noticed you’re not here tonight. Joe, one of the regulars, asked where you were and if you had finally come to your senses and realized that you could do so much better than me.

Ollie:I think it’s about time he gets admitted to a facility. He’s talking crazy.

Me:Awww, he loves me! Stop be such a baby. But do you think he’s interested in a younger woman?

God, I wish I were at the bar to see his reaction to that. I can only imagine his dramatic expression and gasp. It only makes me smile harder.

Ollie:OLIVER MOSBY HAS LEFT THE CHAT.

Ollie:You’re so going to pay for that. *smirk emoji* You wound me, baby.

Me:I think you’ll live just fine.

Me:*Kisses GIF*

Sometimes I don’t even recognize myself these days. Ollie has definitely brought me out of my shell, and I love the banter and the flirting. I’ve come into my own. I just hope that when I leave here, I won’t revert back to my old ways.

Ollie:I do really miss you here, though. I’ll see you at home.

I toss my phone onto the bed before I let him do something crazy like convince me to come hang out at the bar. If only the version of myself from six months ago could see me now.

Enough procrastinating—this damn pile of laundry won’t fold and put itself away. If only I could snap my fingers like in Mary Poppins. I restart my episode ofBelow Deckthat Payton got me hooked on and ignore my phone.

It’s so weird to see my clothes hanging in the closet. After Ollie and I made this thing official, I unpacked my suitcases andpacked them away. I’m just hanging my new floral dress on the hanger when my phone rings on the bed.

I swear to God, if that’s Oliver, I’m going to make him sleep on the damn couch.

But when I find my phone buried under the blanket, I see it’s not Ollie, actually. It’s an unknown caller from Willow Creek, NY.Who the hell is that?

“Hello,” I say as I sit down on the bed and pull my leg up under me.

“Hi, is this Holland Armstrong of Wanderlust Photography?” a feminine voice asks.

“Umm, yes, it is.” I’m just about to ask who’s calling when the caller sighs, almost in relief.

“Oh, fantastic. My name is Brynn Murphy, and I own Serenity Springs Studio. We’re based out of Willow Creek, New York. We’ve never met, but my best friend, Lexi, gave me your business card and said you might help me in a bit of a situation I’m in.”

“Yes, of course, I remember Lexi.” I met Lexi Harrington, the events coordinator at Maritime Media, at a networking event I was photographing. She had mentioned that her husband had owned Maritime, and they were always looking for contributing photographers. By the end of the evening, we had exchanged business cards. “How can I help you, Brynn?”

“Well, you see, we are getting ready to open our fourth studio.”

“Oh my God, that’s amazing. Congratulations,” I cut in.

“Thank you.” I can hear pride and happiness in her voice. “I feel like it’s insane, but my husband, Callum, is really supportive.”

“So you need a photographer for the event?” Assuming that is the reason she’s calling.

“Yes, but it’s actually a lot more than just the event. We’re holding a weeklong retreat with classes, education, and wellness.”

“Wow, that sounds awesome. Let me just grab my calendar.” My laptop is out on the coffee table. I adjust the phone on my shoulder as I take a seat on the couch with the laptop in my lap.

Pulling up my calendar on the screen, I smile at the various bookings I’ve accrued, and I realize Brynn was just talking.

“I’m sorry. What was that?”

“So here’s where the situation gets a bit of a mess. We’re opening on Saturday.”

My eyes widen in shock. “Saturday? As in the day after tomorrow, Saturday?”

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