Chapter One

 

Avery

“It’s for the best,” I whisper to myself and type out a cutesy caption that perfectly opposes my mood. “You both knew it was a bad idea.”

A bad idea to disrupt the status quo of our six-year courtship and try to turn it into something more permanent. A bad idea to mix business with pleasure. A bad idea to think I could experience my own love story instead of only reading about it.

It’s hard to think about anything to do with love when yesterday should have been my wedding day. Instead of leaving for my honeymoon, I’m looking up synonyms for romance. Affair, courtship, liaison, passion. None of them fit right, but I think the root cause of my bad mood is the fact that Eric, my fiancé—my ex-fiancé—went into a panic this morning about the social media account for our shared publishing company not being trendy enough. He’s right, especially as we start gearing up to announce my sister’s second book.

But that doesn’t mean I want to be fixing it right now.

I’m still planning on going on the trip we booked for our honeymoon, but my flight time is creeping closer by the minute, and I’m still at the office because Eric doesn’t think we need to hire a social media manager. While I work, I can’t stop thinking I wouldn’t have had this problem if we hadn’t broken up because he always listened to me when we were a couple.

Not so much lately.

My phone dings for the eighth time in the last ten minutes, and I don’t need to look at the screen to know it’s Dani. My little sister is…persistent when she wants to be. It’s a trait we share, though I’m not usually on the receiving end, but I guess this is what I get for hiding from her yesterday.

If she’d known where I was, Dani probably would have kidnapped me and done her best to distract me from the fact that I am still very much unmarried. She means well, but I doubt any of her plans would have been beneficial to anyone. So I worked at the library instead of here or at home, leaving my phone on silent so I could focus on work and get everything done before today.

And while I thought I’d set myself up for success, Eric apparently thought otherwise. So here I am. Making cutesy posts about our lineup of romance books while trying not to think about how my ow love story failed.

“I’m fine,” I tell myself and rearrange the text on the graphic. “I’m fine today, and I was fine yesterday, and I’m totally fine.”

“Fine people don’t talk to themselves,” a cheery voice says in the doorway. 

I groan without looking up from my computer. Maybe I should have looked at my phone. It probably would have warned me that Dani was coming into the office. She might be my best selling author, but I regret giving her a key.

Even if I hadn’t, Lynda, our office manager and receptionist—and, of course, Eric’s mom—would have let her in anyway. 

“Avery,” Dani says, her tone full of warning. “Your flight leaves in like two hours.”

I glance at the clock, wincing when I realize I’ve spent more time on these graphics than I thought. But I need to get the whole week done so it’s not all on Eric. “Two and a half,” I hedge. “I have time.”

“Security has gotten faster,” a male voice says, “but not that fast.”

I look up, my stomach twisting at the sight of Dani’s brand-new boyfriend, Mason, embracing her from behind. They look so…happy. I shouldn’t hate that they look happy, but I do. 

“I still have time,” I whisper right as a message pops up on my computer. 

It’s from Eric, which is funny because his office is right across the hall from mine. Literally within speaking distance. But over the last couple of months, since the breakup, we’ve both done a pretty good job of avoiding face-to-face interaction whenever we can. 

It’s really fun working with your ex…

 

Eric: Do you have those quotes from Feinman Printing? I can’t find the email. 

 

I open up my email and find the message he needs, forwarding it to Eric even though I can feel my sister glaring at me. If we want to switch to this other printer, we need to do it sooner than later so we can get on their schedule, so getting the info to my partner quickly is crucial.

“Avery,” Dani says again. 

Another message pops up.

 

Eric: I’m going to send you the projections spreadsheet so we can get that nailed down before Sonny gets here next week. Let me know if you see any issues.

 

My jaw clenches when I read that one. While I’m glad Eric hired a consultant to help us figure out how to scale our company, I’m not sure why he thought the week after what would have been our honeymoon was a good idea for bringing him in.

Dani twists in Mason’s arms, looking behind her—toward Eric’s office—before meeting my eyes again. “Give us a second.” In a flash, she slips out of Mason’s hold and shuts herself in my office, leaving her man in the hallway. “Is he the reason you haven’t left yet?”

As Eric sends another message, I try not to let my stomach tie itself in a knot. “Who?”

“Ave, you have to go!”

“On my honeymoon? By myself?” My words come out harsh—too harsh—and Dani flinches, flooding me with guilt. She was planning to come with me to Italy and take Eric’s spot, but then she met Mason. He’s been good for her, but he’s the reason Dani no longer wants to spend a week in Florence. Sighing, I get to my feet and wrap an arm around her. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault you tamed a handsome womanizer while you were supposed to be writing me a bestseller.”

She smirks—apparently I’ve been forgiven. “I did write you a bestseller.”

“We’ll see.” I’m joking, but also not. I really want her second book to do as well or better than the first, both for her sake and for Rose & Quill. The little publishing company Eric and I started a few years ago has suddenly made a name for itself, and I would hate for us to be a one-hit wonder. 

Are books called hits, or is that just songs? Where did that phrase come from, anyway? 

Dani nudges her elbow into my ribs, hitting me right in my ticklish spot. I squeal and duck away, and she narrows her eyes at me. “Are you really scared to go alone? You used to travel by yourself all the time.”

“That’s not technically true.” Most of the time, I ended up making friends whenever I went somewhere, so I was never alone. Technically. “And no, Eric isn’t the reason I’m still here.” That part’s a lie. He is the reason I haven’t left the office yet, though I haven’t figured out if it’s intentional or not. Our breakup was mutual, and he’s known about my plans to go to Italy anyway. Eric isn’t the type of guy to be petty, but I’m also leaving him for a week when we’re barely keeping our heads above water as it is. I can hardly blame him for not wanting to handle the company on his own. But it’s only a week…

“Avery!” Dani snaps, opening the door to reveal Mason still standing there, patiently waiting for her. She smiles like it hasn’t been mere minutes since she saw him. “You need to stop working or you’re going to miss your flight. All of this can wait until you get back, or your colleague can handle it.”

Eric coughs from his office. Dani has refused to speak his name since the breakup, and it drives him nuts. And now I know he’s probably been listening to all of this, which makes his messages feel deliberate.

He’s really trying to stop me from going.

As I glance at the clock again, sudden panic hits me, fueled by my independent streak that I’ve gotten used to burying since partnering up with Eric. He’s not my boyfriend anymore, so he can’t decide what I do or don’t do.

“I’m going to miss my flight!” I growl the words almost angrily as my mind kicks into gear. I don’t even bother shutting down my computer. I just grab my purse and usher Mason and Dani out the door. “I’ll be back next week!” I shout at Eric, ignoring whatever he says in response because I’m too busy listing out loud the things I still need to do as I hurry down the stairwell to the parking garage. “I have to go pick up my suitcases. Water the plants. Check the fridge for leftov—”

“Whoa!” Dani grabs my arm before I can start running toward my car. “Relax! We have your suitcases.”

I frown and search for Dani’s CRV. “Why?”

“And we both know you’ve already watered the plants and emptied your fridge,” she continues. “I even grabbed the dinner you made for the plane even though they give you food on the flight.”

As she leads me to her car, I can’t help but wonder how she knows me this well. Yeah, she’s my sister, but lately I’ve barely recognized myself when my life is nothing but work and convincing people I’m perfectly fine. “Have you ever eaten airline food?” I mumble. 

Mason opens the back door for me, and I’m halfway into the seat before I see the giant schnauzer taking up most of the space. “Sorry,” he says as I squish myself into the little available room left. “I was against taking Herc to Oregon, but I was outvoted.”

“Oregon?” I am so confused. 

“Yep!” Once she’s in the passenger seat, Dani twists around to grin at me and scratch the dog’s ears. “That’s why we have your suitcases. We’re heading to Cascade Harbor for a bit, and since I couldn’t leave Hercules with you, he’s coming with us!”

I scowl at her, only sort of annoyed. “You’re heading to the airport,” I guess. “And you planned your flight to be close to mine so you could make sure I go.”

With a triumphant smirk, she faces forward again and slips her hand into Mason’s. I watch them play with each other’s hands for the next forty-five minutes as we drive to Salt Lake, hating the jealousy that bubbles up. 

I’m happy for her. I really am. But three of our cousins also started dating guys this summer—heck, Chloe even went and got married—and when they’re all younger than me, it’s hard not to feel bitter. I was so close to my happily ever after, only for it to just…fizzle out. It wasn’t some epic tragedy or heartbreak, and there are moments when I’m actually relieved that Eric and I didn’t go through with the wedding. But that doesn’t make the envy hurt any less.

When we hit the airport, Mason drops me off at the terminal. Their flight is an hour after mine, so they have some time to get parking and check Hercules onto the plane. I, on the other hand, do not have time, so my goodbye to Dani is rushed. 

We hug each other tight, like we always do, but there’s more to Dani’s embrace this time. “Please try to have some fun,” she tells me with a squeeze. “Don’t think about work or my book or Sir Lost Cause. Just enjoy Italy, okay?”

Enjoy Italy. Those words are on repeat all through security, where I forget to take a hair tie out of my pocket and am rewarded with a pat down. The words repeat when I stop at the first bathroom I find, and then the next because I have a nervous bladder.

And they’re still on repeat when I pass Poppy’s shop and barely register my name being called before I’m practically tackled. Thank goodness for my neck pillow protecting me from being strangled. “Avery!”

Struggling to stay upright, I force a smile. “Poppy.”

Somehow I managed to forget my youngest cousin would have made sure she was working during my flight. I should have prepared myself better, or maybe even avoided her entirely. At twenty-one, Poppy is unerringly sweet, but with nine years between us, I’ve never been able to fully figure out what her deal is.

“Avery!” Poppy says again, way too loud for a crowded airport as it pulls a dozen glances our way. She presses her hands to my cheeks and seems to stare into my soul for a moment. And then she looks like she might burst into tears. “Oh, Avery. You’re hurting so much!”

“I’m fine,” I say, and I’m sure she would have believed me if my voice didn’t crack. I try to salvage my credibility by adding, “Really.”

She clucks her tongue and grabs hold of my hand, dragging me to the store where she works. “You’re not fine, but you will be.”

“That sounds…ominous.”

Laughing, she grabs a necklace with a transparent, yellowish crystal swinging at the base, holding it out in front of my face like she might start trying to hypnotize me. I don’t know if hypnotism is something she’s into, but I wouldn’t be surprised. She’s the sort of person who reads the horoscopes every day and thinks a rock can heal your aura. “Avery, your luck is about to change. I can feel it!”

As long as that change of fortune doesn’t affect Rose & Quill, unless it’s for the better, I’m okay with that. “Great,” I mutter. “I have a flight to catch, so—”

“I also made you this!” Poppy holds out a bracelet to match the necklace, only the rock on this one is a light pink encased in a braided leather band. “This one will help you find love.”

“I don’t want it.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, but they’re true. “That’s the last thing I need right now.”

Poppy deflates, looking like she did when she was three and following me around anytime the family got together. I was too grown up—a whole twelve years old—to want to spend time with a little girl, but for some reason she would never leave me alone. I once got mad at her for bothering me and made her cry, and I’m getting sudden flashbacks of her nonstop tears that day.

Before her sad eyes can make me feel worse, I cave. “Okay! Fine. I’ll take the love bracelet.” I snatch it from her fingers and stuff it into my purse along with the necklace.

By some miracle, a woman over the loudspeaker announces they’re boarding my flight, giving me the perfect excuse to duck out of the store.

“Thanks, Poppy,” I mumble on my way out. “Have fun at work.”

“Have fun in Italia! I’ll see you when you get back!”

At the moment, she and I are the only ones still single, and I don’t like what that might mean for future cousin get-togethers. Am I about to become Poppy’s favorite again? Maybe I need to find her a man so she can be as distracted as Dani.

Right as I reach my gate, my phone starts ringing, and I reluctantly pull it from my pocket to find Eric’s photo on the screen. It’s a photo of the two of us together because I keep forgetting to change it to something else. At the moment, his name reads “Colonel Buzzkill” because Dani got her hands on my phone after the breakup, and I haven’t had the energy to change it back.

Given my mostly silent interactions with Eric lately, I figure if it’s worth an awkward phone call, it must be important. Sighing, I swipe the answer button. “Hey, I’m just about to board, so—”

“Don’t go.”

My heart in my chest turns to lead at the sound of his desperation. “What?” Is he really doing this? Now? 

“I need you, Avie. Don’t go to Italy.”

He’s really doing this. My chest grows tight, and I can’t decide if I love this declaration or hate it. It’s been almost two months since we officially decided to split, and I had pretty much given up hope on him showing any signs of regret. Do I want this change of heart? I don’t know. No. Maybe?

“Eric,” I say, pressing myself against a pillar so I’m out of the way of the people lining up to board. I don’t know why they do that, especially when they’re not in the current boarding group.

“I need you,” Eric says again, but then he adds a line that instantly turns my hope into irritation. “There’s so much we need to get done on the marketing plan before Sonny gets here.”

Rolling my eyes, I consider hanging up on him. But that feels petty, and I’ll leave that part to him. “Sonny isn’t coming to Utah until next week, and I thought the whole point of hiring him was so he can do all that work for us.” Why else would we hire a consultant? I was skeptical about bringing in a guy from out of state, but Eric and Sonny were college buddies, and Eric thinks his friend can work some kind of miracle for Rose & Quill.

We need a miracle after Dani’s book went viral and put our little company on the map. We’re barely keeping up with demand, drowning in the giant ocean we were plunged into at the start of the year, and if we don’t find a way to grow with Dani’s fame, we’re going to flounder.

“I want him to think we know what we’re doing,” Eric says. 

“But we don’t know what we’re doing,” I argue. “Neither of us expected Dani to hit the New York Times list like that.”

“Even so, we have too much to do. Don’t go to Italy, Avery. Please.”

“I’m already eating the cost of your half.” Plus, I splurged last night in a rare moment of impulsivity and upgraded my longest flight to business class. That would be a lot of money wasted if I stay home.

“I told you I can pay for it.” He can’t. He barely finished paying off his MBA a few months ago, and he signed a two-year lease on a townhouse that was going to be ours. Not to mention the business loan we’re both on the hook for. “Besides,” he continues, “the only reason you paid for the trip was because your card had the better rewards.”

I sigh, my eyes on the dwindling line to board. This flight is going to JFK, where I’ll have a few hours before my connecting flight to Rome, and then to Florence. In less than twenty-four hours, I could be in the city I’ve dreamed of visiting ever since Sandra Bullock fell in love with Bill Pullman in While You Were Sleeping. 

Or I could stay in Utah and pretend it isn’t totally awkward working across the hall from a man I used to make out with on a regular basis and now barely talk to.

Enjoy Italy.

I plan to. 

“If there are any emergencies,” I tell Eric, “send me an email. Otherwise, I’ll see you in a week.”

I hang up before he can argue, and I hold my head high as I march to the gate. My breakup may have sucked, but I’m going to go to Italy and have the time of my life because I am totally, completely fine.

Get your copy of The Fear of Falling here.