Page 67 of Fighting for Daisy

“Emma Davidson,” a sweet voice answered his call.

“Hi, Emma.” He cleared his throat. “It’s Noah. Noah Walsh. I was hoping to get some information from you.”

As much as he was tempted, he didn’t ask whether Daisy had said anything about him. Didn’t ask if Emma thought Daisy liked him. That was too junior highish. But he took it as a good sign that Emma was willing to talk to him. Not that she had any useful information.

“I can give you her address, but it won’t help right now. She’s on a trip,” Emma said. “I know she took a train and is headed, and I quote, ‘west.’ I don’t have details on where she plans to stop or stay overnight or anything.”

“Of course not. Daisy doesn’t operate like that.” They both chuckled. “Thanks, Emma. It’s a start.”

Defeated, he realized he’d probably just have to wait until she returned to New Bern. There was no point running all over the country trying to find her. He didn’t even know if she wanted to be found!

A minute later, he got two texts in a row from Emma. The first was a link to one of Daisy’s recent videos. And the second, the link and login information to an app that enabled him to track her phone. Score.

He clicked on the video link, and Daisy popped onto the screen. An involuntary smile spread across his face.

“Hey, y’all,” she started. “I wanted to take a minute to thank you for the award. I couldn’t have won without you. A lot of you are asking, ‘What now?’ Well, I have some big ideas I plan to share soon. In the meantime, I’m on a train working through some stuff.” She put stuff in air quotes and huffed out a laugh.

“Have you ever met someone who has changed you irrevocably? Someone who’s touched you so deeply, kissed you so thoroughly, you can’t go back to normal? And even if that person walks away, there’s no pretending life hasn’t transformed?”

She paused for a second before continuing. “If you’ve watched my channel for any length of time, you’ve heard me talk about life’s moments. As I always say, ‘minutes make up time, butmomentsare what make up life.’ I used to think the moments had to be monumental—the bigger, the better. But I’ve come to realize, moments can be subtle. So subtle you might miss ’em. An awakening, an evolution, a change of heart. Those quiet moments can be just as powerful and life-altering as the momentous ones.

“I hope you’re watching for those moments. However and wherever you can find them. They’re what make life worth living. I’d love to hear about your moments. Big or small. Leave ’em in the chat.” She winked into the camera. “Daisy out.”

Noah shifted in his seat. Was she talking about him? To him? It sure seemed that way. He was reasonably certain he’d just had one of those moments with Tucker not ten minutes ago. The lightening of his soul had to count.

Unsure how common those unforgettable, subtle moments were, he was pretty sure he’d miraculously had two. The second being that he’d fallen in love. In love with a woman so completely his opposite. So out of his league, so much better than him.

He called Janet to tell her he wasn’t returning to the office, drove straight home, packed a bag, and hit the road.

Daisy had accused him of not being spontaneous. Well, stand by, Daisy Parker.

The good news was that trains moved slower than dirt and took twice as long to get anywhere. Daisy’s one-day head start was no match for a fast car and a determined man. Add the phone tracking app and a heap of tenacity, and he was sure he could find her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Daisy settled into her window seat and got out her new soft-bound leather notebook. Fancy? Yes. She’d picked it up at the airport in New York. Her way of treating herself after the win. Or consoling herself after losing Noah. One of the two. Maybe both.

By noon, she’d filled almost half the pages with ideas and plans, this time in an organized, intentional way. Unlike her last notebook, which housed every thought under the sun, this one would be a blueprint for her business.

After lunch, she posted a video about life’s moments and then focused on emails and tactics for her current channel. Since winning the award, companies she’d never heard of were emailing, begging her to promote their brands. She was most excited about the publishing company that had reached out. One of her goals was multiple sources of income, and writing a book fit the bill perfectly. Once the hoopla from the win died down, she would start that project.

They arrived in Charlotte that evening. She had to get off to switch trains but saw no reason to hang around—she’d been there a thousand times—so she grabbed dinner and hopped the next train. It was a red-eye trip, and she intended to sleep, so she splurged for a sleeper room.

In the morning, she disembarked in a city outside of Atlanta. After getting coffee at a local shop and checking messages—still nothing from Noah—she toured a small-town Civil War Museum and found a BBQ pit for an early lunch. She put together a video montage of the pictures she’d taken of the little town and posted it. Then she caught a bus back to the train station, bought a ticket, and boarded the train to Tuscaloosa. She spent the afternoon reading a self-help book, enjoying the scenery, and ruminating.

It was everything she would normally do on a trip—stuff she’d done a hundred times before. Chatting up the locals, learning about their town, and partaking in local food, but for some reason, it wasn’t as fun.

She thought she did best alone, but after having had a travel buddy—even one paid by her father—she’d decided it was more fun to share the experiences. And not just with two million faceless followers.

The road trip with Noah had set a new standard. That was what her “moments” video had been about. Though she didn’t believe it possible, falling in love had only taken a week. She’d analyzed it backward and forward, trying to make absolutely sure it wasn’t just gratitude because he’d saved her or good ol’ infatuation. No, no matter how she sliced it, all signs pointed to heartbreak. Unrequited love was something she’d never dealt with. And she hoped never to again.

In Tuscaloosa, she ate at a downtown diner, browsed a mom-and-pop bookstore, where she bought a book on time management, and checked into a motel. The room looked like every other small-town motel. Dated decor, an ugly as sin—and probably just as dirty—comforter covering a hard queen-sized bed. Tiny bathroom with low water pressure and carpet she wouldn’t walk barefoot on for a million dollars.

She was getting too old for this way of life. Sleeping on futons, staying out all night drinking and dancing, and eating sugar-filled garbage had been fun ten years ago, but she was pushing thirty. It was time to grow up. Her new venture necessitated a lifestyle change anyway.

The next channel would not only be a rebrand of her social media persona, but herself as well. It would be hypocritical to promote a nutritious diet while eating pie for lunch. Disingenuous to preach exercise when she only did a yoga class here and there.

A naturally high metabolism had kept her slim for years, but she was ready to puthealthyover skinny. Focus on whole-body wellness—physical, mental, and spiritual. In preparation, she’d been studying self-help books and was convinced that personal responsibility and a positive mental attitude would get you farther in life than playing the victim.

---