Page 3 of No Place Like Home
“Like Cirque de Soleil. Where they perform those flips and elaborate moves on strips of colored fabric hanging from the ceiling?”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“I’m sure it is. But it’s also impressive. You probably don’t remember Rosalyn Dupree—you’re younger than us. She and I went to school together. We kind of had a back-and-forth rivalry thing.” Cade waved one hand in the air, as if it was no big deal. As if Rosalyn wasn’t a combination of his best and worst memories. As if she wasn’t the one ghosting his emails. “She’s made a pretty big name for herself in the industry—even internationally.”
Miley crossed her arms again. “That’s your plan to save Magnolia Bay? Your old high school rival and clowns?”
“To saveMagnolia Days,” he corrected. “And hopefully Magnolia Days will help save the town.”
“There won’t be a town to save if the potholes get much bigger.” Miley tossed the comment like a grenade, then left with a stomp of ankle boots.
Oh well. At least she’d left annoyed, which meant Cade was still on for his latte later.
He took his seat, picked up the desk phone, and noticed the exotic animal sanctuary had hung up. Oops. Though now he wouldn’t have to try to tell him no. He clicked the line for Frog Legs, instead. “Sorry about that hold, Bruno.”
Even the man’s laugh held a Cajun accent. “No problem. Already fried up another batch.”
Cade winced. “Perfect.”
“So you’re coming, then?”
“I…well.” Why was it so hard to say no? Cade didn’t want frog legs. He didn’t want to eventryfrog legs. And he doubted the rest of the Bay felt any differently. But they needed vendors. “I’ll think about it.”
Clang. “Trust me, boy, you can’t just think about my unique Cajun seasoning blend. You musttasteit.”
This guy wasn’t giving up. Cade ran a hand over his face, his five o’clock shadow coming in early. Did stress grow hair faster? “Okay, yes. I’ll be there sometime next week.”
As Cade hung up, his cell buzzed with an incoming text—another food truck vendor canceling. Ugh. He winced, then scrolled up to the texts he’d ignored during Miley’s visit. A form response to his dancing poodle inquiry, another from his father asking if he’d finished his third quarter projections yet. Also one containing Mama D’s Wordle score.
Buzz. Great. Now Miley, sending several emojis in a row of a family of four, a house…and a knife.
How had he ended up here, again? Cade’s gaze landed once more on the diploma on the wall, highlighted by the afternoon sun streaming through the window, and his chest tightened. Oh yeah. That was how. Was he going to be able to pull this off? The festival, the circus. Without Rosalyn or a special act—somethingimpressive—he’d just end up with his fishing buddy Owen walking on stilts. Hardly marketing worthy.
His heartbeat accelerated. He couldn’t fail.
Pearl sounded on the intercom. “Cade, there’s a visitor for you.”
“Notnow!” Oh, he hadn’t meant to snap. But breathing was still difficult, and who had decided to squeeze his head between their hands? His vision blurred.
A blonde head poked into his office. “Bad time?”
He looked up with a start. Rosalyn Dupree.
Rosalyn?
Cade blinked rapidly, but the golden-haired woman, dressed in a white linen top and paper bag shorts leaning one slim shoulder against his doorframe, didn’t dissipate. She’d showed up. Here. Back in Magnolia Bay.
He opened his mouth, then shut it.
“Guess so.” Rosalyn winced, green eyes crinkling as she tucked wavy tresses behind her ears. “Sorry.”
“Wait!” Cade leaped to his feet, finally finding his tongue. His manners.
But the door had already shut behind her.
* * *
She shouldn’t have come. Her mother was wrong.
