Page 96 of The Wish List
It took less than ten minutes to reach Garrett and Lily’s house on a tree-lined street a few blocks from downtown. There were still patches of snow on the lawns, and icicles had formed at the edges of some of the low-hanging branches.
The temperature was supposed to begin climbing again tomorrow, so Freya appreciated this brief holiday sojourn into winter weather.
The heels of her round-toe pumps clicked on the concrete as she approached the two-story, whitewashed brick house. Cars lined the street on both sides, and the sound of lively conversation and music hit her as soon as she opened the front door.
For a moment, she thought about turning around. Her act of defiance in wearing the bandage dress suddenly felt immature and ridiculous. She didn’t need her clothes to prove she didn’t fit in. Her insecurity took care of that no matter what she wore.
“Freya,” a feminine voice called before she could make her escape.
Mariella Jacob wrapped her in a tight hug. “Don’t you just look like a snack and a half. You have to let me introduce you to Alex. We can talk collaborating.”
Freya breathed out a laugh. “I stick out like a sore thumb in this dress.”
“You own that dress,” Mariella argued then frowned as she studied Freya. “You know that, right? You’re gorgeous. But the reason I’m so keen to work with you is because of your fierce attitude and inner radiance. That’s what sells the outfit.”
“Can you record that so I can listen to it as my daily affirmation?” She glanced away when tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “This was a mistake. I’m leaving town after my nephew’s baptism, Mariella. A collaboration isn’t going to work. You don’t want me.”
“I do,” Mariella said slowly. “And I don’t think I’m the only one. Come and meet some of my friends.” She leaned closer like she was revealing a secret. “It’s a relatively new thing for me to describe people as friends. Did you know I have a daughter, too? She’s a teenager and is in town with her adoptive parents for the day.”
Freya blinked. “I don’t know what to say to all that.”
“Do you still feel like you’re going to cry?”
“How did you...” Freya shook her head and realized the moment had passed. “No, I don’t.”
“Verbal diarrhea has its uses. You’ve made it this far, Freya. Meet a few people. Lily had Angi Guilardi help with the food, so it’s amazing. Stay.”
She held up her hand when Freya immediately began to decline. “I’m not talking about forever. That’s your business. Stay at the party a few minutes.”
The shop owner, who felt more like a friend to Freya than women she’d known for years in California, was right, of course. Freya had come this far, and she’d already decided she was leaving town. What did it matter if people judged her at this point?
She followed Mariella into the light-filled kitchen, with honed marble counters, stainless steel appliances and muted white cabinetry. At this point of her stay in Magnolia, she shouldn’t be surprised by the friendliness of the residents. Mariella introduced her to her partners at the inn, Emma and Angi, and Freya took a moment to thank the restaurant owner for her help when Trinity went into labor.
No one seemed shocked by her body-conscious dress, and a few people made a point of approaching to say how much they enjoyed seeing Magnolia and its local businesses spotlighted on her tour. Several older folks, who looked like hardware-store regulars, congratulated her on the snippet where she’d interviewed the winner of the youth art contest during the town’s final holiday event.
Freya realized how jaded she’d become thanks to living in a world of paid endorsements and sponsored posts. While the home-for-the-holidays segment had been a job, she’d also genuinely enjoyed showing off the town. Authenticity and accessibility were a powerful draw in celebrity marketing.
These locals didn’t care that she’d worn something out of character during the tour or that she was practically poured into today’s dress. They focused on her, just like Mariella seemed to.
Just like...
“Hey, there.” She whirled at Greer’s soft greeting to find him standing directly behind her like she’d summoned him with her longing.
“You’re here,” she whispered then shook her head. “Of course you are. I expected to see you.”
“Really?” One thick brow lifted. “Because you’ve been doing a bang-up job of avoiding me recently.”
She glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear their conversation. She didn’t want an audience with Greer.
He took her hand and led her through the crowd, then into an empty room that functioned as a small library and Garrett’s office by the look of the space.
Expansive bookshelves lined three walls, and a picture window overlooked the house’s backyard. There was an antique desk, the kind Freya dreamed of having, situated in front of the window and a small but cozy love seat in one corner.
“Things got difficult with my mom and sisters,” she said, facing the window as he shut the door. The quiet felt disconcerting after the revelry of the party. “I didn’t mean to blow you off.”
He cleared his throat but not before she heard the curse he muttered under his breath.
She straightened her shoulders and turned, prepared to blast him with her bravado. “I’m sorry,” she said instead. The apology slipped out before she could stop it. “It’s complicated.”
