Page 48 of Trusting Fate (Hope Falls: Brewed Awakenings 2)

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Grace steppedout of the shower and checked her phone. No missed calls. No messages.

She took a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled out through her mouth trying to calm the anxiety that was building inside of her like a pressure cooker. She’d spent the night tossing and turning. Part of her sheet twisting had to do with the man who was sleeping mere feet away from her but the other part was attributed to the realization of the past forty-eight hours catching up to her.

So much had changed in her life in two days. And nothing had happened to her. She’d been the architect. She just hoped she was the architect of her happiness not the architect of her demise.

It was seven-fifteen in the morning. She knew that production was going to be getting in touch this morning to let everyone know if they were selected. But “this morning” was a vague timeframe.

After slathering her entire body with lotion, she removed the towel from her head and brushed out her hair. Once it was tangle-free she picked up her hairdryer and turned it on. Next, she flipped her head over and began drying the hair at the base of her neck. Just like everything else in her life, she had a system for drying and straightening her hair, which if left to its own devices was curly.

She’d been the only sister to inherit their father’s curls. Their mother had long, straight hair.

Mason Wells had curly brown hair, which apparently, he’d inherited from his mother. Grace had never met her paternal grandparents. They’d disowned their son before Grace and her sisters were born.

It was strange even thinking about him. Her and her sisters never talked about their father. Their mother had when she was alive. Even deserting her with four young daughters hadn’t been enough to burn out the flame Cora Wells had for the father of her children.

Even as a kid, Grace remembered thinking that it was pathetic the way her mom pined for him. She remembered playing with her Barbies and telling Ken that if he left the dreamhouse he could never come back.

Grace’s memories of her father were a mixed bag. Some days were great and other days were bad. Before he left the bad days were a lot more frequent than the good days. At the time, she hadn’t understood why his behavior was so erratic. Now she knew it was because he’d had a drug habit. That was why his own parents had disowned him.

In the months leading up to her death, her mom had finally told Grace the truth about her father.

Apparently, he’d gotten clean when he found out Grace’s mom was pregnant with her. And according to her mom, he’d stayed clean until she was about three. He’d started using again when her mom found out she was pregnant with Audrey.

He couldn’t handle the stress of having so many kids. On her death bed, her mom had apologized to Grace and said that it was her fault her dad had left, because she’d wanted to have so many kids. She’d taken responsibility for his relapse and asked Grace to forgive him for not being there.

She hadn’t.

How could she?

When their dad left, he’d cleaned out her mom’s bank account and they hadn’t been able to pay the rent. Grace vividly remembered her mom crying when they came home to find a yellow paper on the door. Which she knew now was an eviction notice.

That entire time in Grace’s life was fuzzy, but she remembered that day clear as a bell. And she had sporadic memories of having to sleep on people’s couches and even in the car a few times. She tried not to think about it because when she did she just got angry at a man who wasn’t worth her anger. Which was part of the reason she always straightened her hair. She didn’t want any reminders of him.

She was checking to see if her straightener was heated up yet when her phone buzzed. Excitement and nerves both flooded her system as she picked it up.

It wasn’t from production. It was from Gary. He said that they had an all-cash offer, waived inspection, 15k above asking, with a thirty-day escrow and wanted to know if she wanted to accept it.

She stared at the phone. Did she? Yes. Of course, she did. All cash. Fifteen over asking. Waived inspections. Thirty-day close. Those were the buzz words that realtors lived for.

So why wasn’t she typing yes?

It took her a moment, but she realized that if she did, that meant everything she’d put into motion when she’d handed in her resignation was real. So far, there hadn’t been any concrete consequences to her actions. Yes, she’d handed in her resignation, but if she called Cunningham, she knew she could have her job back and be back in her corner office by noon. They’d already reached out to offer her more money. And sure, she’d come to Hope Falls, but she was staying at a B&B. And yes, she’d submitted an audition for a reality television show, but she didn’t even know if she was going to get cast.

But this would make it real. If she accepted this offer, she wouldn’t have her home anymore. The one that she’d worked her ass off to buy. The one she’d spent twelve years dreaming about. The one that she’d sacrificed relationships, sleep, and maybe even a tiny bit of her sanity for.

She looked around the bathroom at where she was.

Out the window she saw pine trees and aspens. There was a rabbit hopping through the snow across the meadow. She could hear birds chirping.

There was no traffic. No nightlife. No hustle and certainly no bustle.

Is this really what she wanted?

Her gaze drifted back to the mirror and that’s when she saw it. She saw Easton’s toothbrush in the holder next to hers and a calm washed over her. It wasn’t because she and Easton were actually together or that she was under any delusion that they would be in the future, although there were definitely worse things that could happen. It was because in that moment the visual of his and hers toothbrushes reminded her of what she really wanted out of life and what she couldn’t have if she stayed in the rat race in Los Angeles.

She wanted roots. She wanted to settle down. She wanted family.

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