Page 11 of Wild Rivals

MADDIE

You should know better than to listen to Oscar. He won’t want to cause you any trouble but it’s bad in there, Saw.

Do I need to get someone to look at it?

I don’t want to shut the kitchen down, but it’s getting to where that’s a possibility.

SAWYER

Chill, Mads. I’m on it. I’ll bump it up on my list.

I can’t remember the last time I “chilled,” but it would be nice if the people working with ovens could, especially given the summer heat.

As I enter the lobby, I type out an email to Luke, a local handyman who’s done some work on the electrics for us in the past. If Sawyer can’t get it done, then I’ll find someone who can.

Mona comes to stand beside me, flipping her curtain of black hair over her shoulder as she hands me back my clipboard. “The crumbs have been cleaned up.”

The corner of my mouth kicks up as I look at her. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Probably go insane.

8

MADDIE

Monday morning has come around faster than I would have liked. The wedding was a huge success, and although I breathed a sigh of relief on Sunday as I watched the bride and groom leave, I couldn’t shake the tension skating down my spine.

I’ve been preparing for this pitch with Jim Evergreen all week, but it doesn’t stop the nerves from fluttering around in my stomach like they do when we have an unruly horse. Now that there isn’t a wedding to distract myself with—until the next one—all I can focus on is the here and now.

You’ve got this.

I know my presentation like the back of my hand. In fact, I could recite it in my sleep, along with the fine details of the six weddings we’re hosting this summer. I just need to shut out that voice in my head. It doesn’t matter who else is pitching today, or if they’ll be better than me and able to offer more money. The only thing I have an ounce of control over is how my pitch goes.

There’s nothing I can do about anybody else.

I recite the words back to myself repeatedly as I walk down the sidewalk toward the building where Jim insisted on meeting. The closer I get, the more I believe myself. Until I’m standing in front of the glass door of a nondescript office building one town over from Coldwater.

Inhaling, I push through the door, unsure of what to expect on the other side. The foyer is plain, with a staircase straight ahead and a list of business names on the wall between them and a small elevator. In one corner is a large fake plant, adding the only bit of color to the space.

I step up to the signage, searching for the Palisades meeting room. Third floor.

With the ball of uncertainty swirling in my gut, I opt for the stairs, needing to do something, even if that means exercise, to take my mind off what I’m heading into. All weekend I’ve been telling myself that Wyatt wouldn’t be here, but this morning, I stopped lying to myself. Of course he’s going to be putting in a pitch. I just have to hope that I won’t have to see him or his smarmy face.

It doesn’t take long to reach the third floor. My pulse races as the quiet of the building settles over me. I exit the stairwell, spotting a desk with an older woman seated behind it. She looks up at me from over the top of her magazine before sliding it out of sight and pasting a smile I know all too well onto her face.

“Good morning, are you here for the Evergreen pitches?”

I offer her a matching smile, clutching my binder a little tighter. “I am.”

She makes a note before asking, “And your name?”

“Maddie Hart.”

She types something into her computer before turning her attention back to me and saying, “Perfect, just head down the hall, you can wait in the third room on the left.”

I look in the direction she points. “Thank you.” I bite my tongue, refraining from asking if anyone else has arrived or is currently in with Jim.

Her cheery “good luck” follows me down the corridor, doing nothing to ease the whirlwind of emotions inside of me.

My mind is on my pitch when I walk into the room. I expect it to be empty, but my gaze locks with none other than Wyatt Wilde. Fuck. I knew he’d be here. But it doesn’t stop my stomach from dropping.