Page 30 of Runaway Bride for the Boss

“This building has been a fixture of Main Street since 1938. A town within a town, all under one roof.” Andrea beams.

“A town within a town?”

She nods to say, “Yeah. That was the trademark used to advertise the building when it was first commissioned. And you know what? Beaufort construction was just starting out when it was built. My great-grandfather was one of the contractors hired. They used the tagline a town within a town because the building houses a variety of businesses. A theater. A pub. Restaurant. Shops. Bars. A five-star hotel. A Lounge. Whatever entertainment you’re looking for, you’re bound to find it here.”

Wow. “It must be nice to live in a place where your family is so deeply rooted.” I smile. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.” I don’t even know who my biological parents are, much less where my third generation grandparents worked.

“It is.” She drapes her arm over my shoulder and we continue our tour. But we only get to walk around Downtown because the skies suddenly darken. So, we hightail it back to the Liquid Elixir.

Andrea pauses in front of the bar to raise her nose up, inhaling deeply. “Hmm. we just might get snow tonight. There’s a dryness to the air.”

I also sniff, but I don’t smell anything different so I just shrug.

“Are you coming?” she asks when I linger on the sidewalk.

“Actually, I have to make a call.” She nods and goes inside without me. I hesitate as I take out my brand new phone from my pocket. I’ve been debating calling Mom all day. I miss her even though we aren’t all that close, but at the same time, I’m worried about the response I’ll get. I did walk out on my wedding without so much as leaving her a note.

I sigh as I type out her number, then I pause as a thought occurs to me. I exit the phone app and quickly go to my settings where I change my ID to private. I don’t trust her not to give Larson my number if our conversation doesn’t end well. And once she has my number, she might start calling to nag me to come back to New York.

I hold my breath as the line rings. “Please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up,” I murmur softly, biting down on my lip.

“Hello?”

My heart skips when her familiar voice comes on the line. I blink back sudden tears as a wave of nostalgia hits me. “Mom,” I whisper, my voice breaking a little.

“Wren? Is that you?”

Yeah, even Mom started calling me Wren when Larson demanded I stop going by Autumn, which isa season, not a name, he insisted What a load of shit.

“Hello?” Mom’s voice is harder, and I quickly shake my head.

“Hi, Mom. Yeah, it’s me.Autumn.”

“Wren! Oh, my God, are you out of your mind? Where the hell are you?”

CHAPTER 18

AUTUMN

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m fine. I–”

“You’re fine? You’re fine?!” She explodes. “Well, good for you that you’re fine, Wren. Because nobody here is fine. Do you know what you’ve put us through this past week? Do you even care?”

My shoulders slump as I sigh. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m sorry. I just really needed to get away, I was suffocating—”

“Suffocating?” She interrupts me again. “I hope you don’t mean by that nice man, who paid for everything including that gorgeous wedding, might I add. Why can’t you be grateful for what you have, Wren? Do you know how many women are jonesing for a man like Larson Brown? Even now, a week after you humiliated him he’s not angry, he’s just worried about you. And you have the nerve to say you were suffocated?”

“Yeah well, they can all have him.” I mutter without thinking.

“What? Young lady, are you out of your mind? Where are you? You’ll come back home this instant!”

I sigh again. This is the thing about Mom; it’s not been more than a week since we’ve last talked and already I've forgotten how she gets. She never allows me to get a word in when she feels she’s justified. And she thinks Larson is worried about me?I say bullshit. He’s worried about his precious reputation being tarnished, that’s all.

He’s probably furious and going on an angry rampage. But that will all be behind closed doors, of course. The one thing Larson loves more than himself is his pristine image. He takes care of his golden boy reputation like a mother takes care of her first born child.

“I’m not coming back. I just called you to put your mind at ease, so you wouldn’t worry about me.” Not that I should’ve bothered. The only thing she seems to be worried about is losing Larson as her son-in-law.

Mom is silent for a few seconds; then she says softly, “Why is the caller ID blocked? How am I supposed to reach you again? I worry about you, Wren.”

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