Page 21 of The 7 Rules of Moving On
“Ahhh,” Kissie gasped. “Rule number two is the best rule.”
He’d asked Ryan to bring these over today specifically for Kissie and Dawn. Because he’d remembered rule number two. Because—he realized, groaning internally—Ryan had been right. He really was a stellar wingman.
“Billy made them this morning.” After taking a cookie for himself, he slid the plate toward her. “Let this cookie mark the official beginning of my wingman duties.”
Picking up her own cookie, she touched one curve of her heart to one curve of his in a sugar-coated cheers and said, “May the moving on commence.”
After a moment of contemplative chewing, he asked, “I do have a favor to ask in return, though.”
“Quid pro quo, Clarice?” she replied, taking a bite.
He laughed. “It’s kind of a big one, Hannibal. So feel free to say no. I’ll still be your wingman either way.”
“This sounds serious.”
This was something he’d been thinking about for a while, but having her here now, it seemed too much like serendipity not to at least ask.
Taking a deep breath, setting down his cookie, he said, “I love this place. Mystic means a lot to me, and it means a lot to Twin Hearts. It’s the only place I’ve ever felt like I truly belonged, which isn’t a feeling too many people get to experience.”
Kissie frowned, setting down her cookie. “I think you’re probably right about that.”
“Do you remember Pudge and Grandma Betty?”
“Of course. Ryan’s grandparents, right? How are they?”
“They’re good. They actually own Mystic. They bought it from my great grandparents years ago. Mystic is the oldest running hot springs west of the Mississippi, and during its entire lifespan, back when it was nothing more than a tiny hole in the ground, it’s either been owned by Ryan’s family or mine.”
“No shit?” she said.
“No shit,” he replied. “But Pudge and Betty are getting older, the bills are piling up, and there’s a man in town, Miles Montgomery, who has expressed interest in buying the resort from them.”
Her face pinched like she’d sucked on a lemon. “Miles Montgomery? That’s a bad name. That’s, like, a Scrooge McDuck name.”
He mimed holding a nail above the bar and hitting it with a hammer. “Nailed it. The Montgomerys suck, both Miles and his son Lane. They’re rich as fuck, always trying to make Twin Hearts ‘better’ by bringing in out-of-state money, replacing family-owned restaurants and businesses with corporate chains, turning the local ski hill into a private mountain resort for the rich and famous.”
“They’re like the bad guys in Disney movies.”
“They want Mystic. They want to rename it, rebrand it, and turn it into something it’s not.”
“Rename Mystic?” She balked. “Oh,hellno. So where do I come in?”
“You work in advertising, right? Writing jingles?”
“You want me to write you a jingle?”
“Kind of. I mean, that’s part of it. Mystic has never needed to market, but times are changing. Twin Hearts gets smaller every year while our competition grows and, for the most part, nobody knows this place exists. We need marketing materials, mailers, a tagline. And a jingle would be incredible. I need to help make this place stand out. I feel like if we let people know that right here in Montana there was still a place like this, untouched, charming, rustic—”
“Mystic,” she added, tapping her lips while staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. He could almost hear her wheels turning. “I don’t have it yet, but there’s something there for sure.”
“I was thinking, maybe if I help you get lucky, you could help me come up with an ad campaign that would convince Pudge and Betty not to sell.”
After a moment of silence, she extended her hand to him. “I’d be honored, actually. It’s a deal.”
When he took her hand and shook it—soft and warm and everything he knew he shouldn’t want because he’d only end up getting his heart broken all over again—another plan formed in his mind. One he was not proud of at all.
RULE NUMBER THREE: NO CALLING, TEXTING, THINKING,
OR TALKING ABOUT THE EX
