When Sparks Fly

21

MISS INDEPENDENCE

AVERY

I’m currently sprawled out on the couch with my laptop and my tablet so I can research and make notes at the same time. I miss my desktop and split screen, but the casts make sitting in a computer chair nearly impossible.

“How’s the research going? Want me to take notes for you?” Declan takes a seat beside me on the couch and peers at my screen.

“Not bad. I have a shortlist of companies that focus on the use of eco-friendly, recyclable products that don’t harm animals in the area that I can reach out to. I’ve already emailed a few, but I’m thinking that calling some of these other ones would be a better idea.”

“Easier than typing emails one-handed or having to edit speech to text?”

“And it’s a bit more personal. Emails get lost, phone calls not as much. Besides, I have the time, so I might as well put it to good use.”

“Yup, makes sense to me.” He flips a pen between his fingers. “So I need to tell you something.”

“What kind of something?”

“Remember that huge account I told you about a while ago?”

Declan works on a lot of big accounts. Spark House is actually one of his smallest portfolios. He’s had a couple of offers from clients to manage them independently, but he likes the company he works for. “Sure. What’s going on?”

“I landed Go Green’s portfolio.”

“Oh my gosh! That’s amazing!” Go Green is a massive company, so landing the account is a big deal.

He nods. “It is. And while I can’t guarantee that I might be able to get them to take you back on, I’m going to see if I can’t at least try to feel them out about doing business with Spark House.”

“You really don’t need to do that.”

“I know. But I can at least give it a shot. I know how much this has stressed London out.”

“Oh no, is she still being cranky with you?” I figured she’d had more than enough time to get over being upset with Declan, especially with me on the mend.

“She’s fine.” He holds up a hand. “Not a warm teddy bear but not a prickly cactus either. She’s stressed because she likes to have a nice buffer. And with losing the alumni contract and the sponsorship, and you being out of commission, things have slowed down a bit.”

“Are her worries legitimate?”

Declan shakes his head and runs his thumb down the back of my neck, as if he can sense the sudden tension in my body. Which I realize he probably can. “No, I just think she’s being cautious.”

“She’s been pulling double duty. And doing all of these things that really aren’t her favorite. She’s so great at talking business, but ask her to problem solve or troubleshoot with emotional clients or pitch an event, and she gets so flustered. Plus, she really loves all the creative stuff. Maybe more than I actually realized.” I point to the mason jar full of little stars that she makes every time she comes over. She leaves them in a pile on the side table, and each time I scoop them into the jar. It’s mostly full now.

“Too bad making paper origami puff stars isn’t a lucrative way to support yourself.”

“Well, actually, look at what I put together.” I pull up the Etsy store page I’ve been working on for London in my spare time.

Declan frowns and then his eyes flare. “Wait, London makes all of this? When the heck does she have time?”

“The store isn’t live. And it’s all the prototypes for centerpieces that she’s made over the years. Or the stuff she does when she’s hanging out and we’re watching movies or whatever. I know she doesn’t have time to set something like this up, and probably doesn’t have time to work on it right now, but I figured I could do it for her, and then when she’s ready to hit the button, she can.”

“I think this is amazing, Avery.”

“I hope she loves the idea. And I wanted to do something for Harley, too, so I’ve gone through her IG feed—not the Spark House one, but her personal one. She’s always trying out Gran’s and our mom’s favorite recipes and posting pictures. I figured I could make her a special cookbook. I don’t want them to have to shelve what they love because of what happened to me.”

He kisses my temple.

“The little things always mean the most.”

* * *

Six weeks post-accident I leave the doctor’s office with one less cast. The doctor is also pleased with how well my leg is healing, so the cast only comes up to my knee now, and it’s a walking cast, which means getting around is going to be infinitely easier and faster.

Declan helps me get into the front seat of his SUV. My right arm is weak, sore, and stiff, but it’s functional, and that’s something to smile about.