She could make a stink, and Fairview would pull out, removing all competition for the lodge. The Bailey family business could continue to thrive.

But at what cost to Eddie?

“Heya, Lola.”

She sighed. Dan. The last person she felt like seeing just then, and she forced tired cheer into her voice. “Done filming for the day?”

She tore into a big bag of Chex Mix and considered her conundrum as she filled several bowls for the evening tavern crowd. She could make a fuss, but she had a new perspective now. If Fairview pulled out, it’d cut into Eddie’s bottom line. It would also take food, savings, and security from Jack’s family.

Worst, it would take away from the at-risk kids in Reno—kids who’d lost so much already.

“Ooh, gimme.” Dan leaned on the bar, reaching for the snacks. “I’m going to miss all this middle-America awesomeness.” He pulled a bowl his way and shoved a fistful into his mouth. “I’m starving. We took off a day of filming to, you know, explore. Dude, have you been to Silver Town?”

“Silver City? Of course I have.” Stopping Fairview had been all she’d wanted—could she let it go now? She remembered her talk with Sorrow…the family business would probably survive a little competition, especially because the two properties were so different.

“I swear, we had the worst sushi ever. We went to some place…what was it called? The Sushi Zone,” he exclaimed. Dan snagged another handful of snacks, then added in a mocking voice, “We were…in the zone…the sushi zone.”

“Yeah? How was it?” She wiped down the counter for the third time, mostly to appear busy to the producer. She really needed silence to think this through.

There was the whole environmental question still to consider. Of course, she could just discuss it with Eddie. Maybe she should. He’d make sure to give the owls a wide berth. The impact would be negligible.

But he was Mister Outdoors Guy. If he knew those owls were special, he’d stop the work until he could sort it all out. More than that, if he knew they were protected by law, he’d halt construction all together.

Did she want to be responsible for the loss to his business? Worse, might he think this was just another ruse on her part, another way to hound him?

“Did you hear me?” Dan asked, chomping away.

“Did you want a beer?”

“Oh, yeah, that, too, thanks. But I was saying there was mayo on the sashimi rice. Actual mayonnaise. The ahi was chewy, and you know they only had that gross crab stick stuff on the Cali roll.”

“Gross,” she said distractedly. No wonder they were taking so long to film if Dan was having his crew drive all over creation in search of raw fish. When would they be done, anyway? They hadn’t even gotten any lodge footage, which she’d been hoping for. It’d all been shots of the town, the falls, interviews with the community. They must’ve had hours of B-roll by now.

“Dude, how can you live here without decent sushi?” He sounded outraged, and just then it struck her as so ridiculous.

“I find a way to carry on,” she said drily.

“The last time I had food that crappy was at The Supermarket. You heard of it? It’s the new place on Melrose. They serve only food purchased from grocery stores…like an ironic statement about the global economy. You get it?”

She struggled to open a jar of cocktail onions. “Sorry, get what?”

“The Supermarket.”

Her cell rang, and she answered without thinking. Dammit. She’d been too distracted and had forgotten she was screening. Now she had to deal with her old CEO—as if she didn’t have enough on her plate at that moment.

“Hold on,” she told him and, putting a hand over the phone, said to Dan, “Ask Sorrow. She can tell you how to get there.”

“Get where?”

“The supermarket.”

“What? No. No, no, dude. The Supermarket is a restaurant in LA. Anyway, I’ll let you get that.” He waved at her phone. “I’ll wait.”

Fabulous. She turned her back to him, trying to keep it down. But the dinner crowd had yet to appear, and even in a whisper, it felt like her voice echoed through the place.

She listened to the same litany. Double her salary. Hand-picked team. Stock options. Benefits for her and her family.

That last bit tripped a switch in her brain. Benefits.

Watching Helen wrestle with just one small urgent care clinic visit had given her flashbacks, back to the days after Dad’s stroke. Forget the challenge of getting him back to health; they’d struggled for years to recover financially.

Her parents weren’t getting any younger. How would she pay for their care when the day came that they needed extra help? There was Medicare, but would that be enough? What if, God forbid, something catastrophic happened? It would bankrupt them. Talk about failing the family business.

She nestled the phone closer to her mouth and found herself asking, “Full coverage? If I came back, you’d give my parents coverage, too?”

But Dan had overheard. He spun in his seat. “Get out. You’re moving back?”

She shushed him, angling farther away. “Did you ever establish that pretax benefits plan?”

What a relief it would be, if she could feel like her parents were covered. Sorrow and Billy would be married soon, and she was sure the sheriff’s department would have them covered, but if she could establish a bigger nest egg for Mom and Dad, then if the day ever came when her folks needed something like in-home care, she’d be able to provide it.

“Because I so cannot see you living here,” Dan said with a smirk.

Tucking her head for more privacy, she told her old boss she’d consider it.

San Francisco wasn’t so far away, not really. She could go back, just for a little while. Sorrow could stay and run things at the lodge, and she’d have her high-powered job back, pulling in an easy six figures. She could scrimp, setting aside enough money to take the stress off her parents.

“There’s not even any decent sushi here,” Dan said, continuing his rant at her back.

She nodded, moving farther down the bar. “I’d need a guarantee in writing,” she told him in a low but stern voice. It felt good to be business Laura again—she was good at it. “A more ironclad contract. And no noncompete clause this time.”

Maybe Eddie would even move with her. They could always come back to Sierra Falls when it was time to have kids.

They…she smiled at the thought.

“I knew it,” Dan exclaimed the moment she hung up.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen you screening your calls. Checking your texts. Lola’s back. The master negotiator.”

Eddie walked in, and as she watched him approach, all her concerns fell away. Their eyes locked.

“I love this idea,” Dan said, then added in a conspiratorial whisper, “But forget San Francisco. You belong in LA.” He held up a hand, and it hung in the air until she gave him an automatic but distracted high-five, her attention pinned only on the Jessup heading straight for her.

Eddie reached them, and all she wanted was to sink into his arms—if only he were holding her, she’d be able to sort out this confusion. If she could be with Eddie, she’d be home, wherever she was.

“Hey,” she told him quietly. “There you are.”

“Here I am, darlin’.” He gave her his Eddie smile, all ease and promise and comfort. “I came to take you to dinner.”

“Just no sushi,” the producer chimed in. “Am I right, Lola?”

Eddie looked askance at the guy. “No worries there.”

“Lola, tell Teddie here where they have the best sushi.”

“It’s Eddie.”

“San Francisco is where it’s at,” Dan yammered on. “They’ve got the best sushi, and now they’ll have our Lola back, too.”

“Dammit, Dan.” She paled, watching Eddie’s face go blank, and quickly assured him, “It’s not like that.”

“Not like what?” he asked her slowly.

“Didn’t you hear?” Dan raised his beer in a toast. “Our girl is moving back to San Francisco.”

Thirty-three

Eddie’s blood turned to ice. “What did you say?”

“It’s not set in stone,” Laura said.

“What do you mean?” Dread spread through him like a cold, black shadow. “What’s not set in stone?”

“My old boss called,” she began, and she didn’t need to say more than that.

“You’re leaving. Again.” It felt like he’d been punched. Her leaving was no real surprise anymore, and it gutted him. But on top of the hurt was anger. Why hadn’t she told him?

“It might be a good option,” she hedged. She hadn’t disagreed.

Eddie watched her, waiting for this to be some misunderstanding, but he could tell by the look on her face that he’d heard correctly. “That’s all it takes? A phone call from some guy who treated you like crap, and then you’re back in your car, outta here?”

That idiot producer chimed in. “She’s off to San Fran, but I’m telling her, LA is the place to be. City of Angels, baby. Am I right?” And then the jackass actually gave him a chummy punch on the arm.

Eddie flinched away. He couldn’t believe this. She wasn’t leaving. Not again. He tried to understand—surely there was something he was missing. “So, what, this guy just called you?”

“He’s been doing the hard sell,” Dan answered instead. “Calling, texting.”

“Dan,” Laura scolded.

Eddie finally broke his gaze away from her, shooting a glare at Dan-the-douche, then back at her again. “Is that true?”

“Yes, but—”

“Dude’s been calling her for a while now. But who wouldn’t chase Lola?” Dan gave a knowing leer. “She’s even got you chasing her.”