Forever Wilde in Aster Valley (Forever Wilde 9)

I stared at him. “Really?”

He nodded. “If you know of anyone, maybe you could give them a heads-up? I know when Mikey asked Tilly whether you’d ever consider taking on clients here, she was adamant that you’d never want to move out of California, so you don’t have to worry that he’ll pressure you, no matter how much he’d like to, but you might…”

I didn’t hear the rest of his sentence through the sudden roaring in my head. “I’m… I’m sorry, she what? Tilly told Mikey I’d never want to leave California?”

“He asked her if she thought he should approach you about the job, and she said not to. That you were happy where you were and didn’t need the money anyway. I don’t know if she was implying your mother had left you an inheritance or not.” He shrugged uncomfortably.

I felt light-headed. Not only had my mother not left me an inheritance, she’d left me with significant debt that had wiped out my own savings account and forced me to take on extra work. While I enjoyed the freelance stuff I was doing, the long hours had worn me down. How dare she imply I didn’t need money? How dare she turn down an interesting opportunity without allowing me to make my own decision? How dare she think she knew what was best for me when she hardly knew me at all?

The light from the candles on the table and the fairy lights strung overhead sparkled off Tilly’s jewelry. She was obviously extremely wealthy. Her home in Nob Hill alone had to be worth ten million dollars, and she had a personal butler and driver. My mom and I had never asked her for a dime, and in fact, we’d declined all of Harold and Tilly’s offers of financial support. But Tilly had no idea what my bank balance looked like or how much money I owed. She didn’t even know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life because she’d never asked.

“I think I’ll ask Mikey about it,” I said with a forced smile. “Thank you for mentioning it. Working on the resort sounds like a dream job.”

His face widened in a genuine smile. “Well, we’d certainly love to help welcome you to town, and I’m sure we could find you some guys who play Ultimate Frisbee around here. Dante told me you’d promised to teach him how to play. I know he’d love that.”

This extended family really was filled with the nicest people on the planet… along with one octogenarian know-it-all.

“Thank you. I’d love that. It’s certainly a lot to consider, but maybe Dante would be better off learning Ultimate with me in California rather than snowy Colorado.”

We continued talking into the main course, and I learned more about the interesting work AJ and his dad had done for years. Now it seemed AJ focused his personnel extraction skills on pulling LGBTQ+ youth out of dangerous situations and working with Dante to keep them safe once they were out.

“They wouldn’t be able to do half of what they do without your grandmother’s help,” he said. “Such kindness. Such concern for saving those kids and making sure they have a good, safe life. She’s been an incredibly generous benefactor to the program, as I’m sure you’ve heard, and—”

I didn’t listen to any more praise for Tilly’s generosity. MJ’s words from the other day reverberated in my memory.

There’s something to be said for deciding you need space and taking it no matter what everyone else says or thinks. Basically, you need to learn how to look out for you no matter where you are.

The lovely Christmas Eve celebration that Mikey and Tiller had worked so hard to put on for our family was in full swing. It was everything I would have ever wanted had I been able to order up my dream family celebration as a lonely only child. The decorations were gorgeous, the food was delicious. Everyone around me was happy and welcoming.

And I was absolutely miserable. Even the warm, steady presence of Darius next to me couldn’t stop me from this plummeting cycle of bitterness and negativity.

I missed my mother so badly my chest felt like it would collapse from the weight of it. As wonderful as most of the Wildes and Marians were, and as promising as my relationship with Darius seemed, there was no comforting familiarity here. These people had been in my life for a year—the worst year of my life—but they didn’t really know me yet. They didn’t know about the preschool paper snowman decorations that my mother had proudly trotted out every December for twenty-five years or how she’d cha-cha around the kitchen, butchering the words to “Feliz Navidad” while she cooked. They didn’t know she’d cried happy tears every single Christmas Eve when George Bailey realized he’d lived a wonderful life.