Back to You (Chaotic Love Book 2) by Claudia Burgoa

Author:Claudia Burgoa [Burgoa, Claudia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-08-06T16:00:00+00:00

18

Abby

After I prune the roses, I shower and pick up a book. I make myself some tea and go outside to rest for a little while. About three seconds after I sit on the hammock, Chester leaps through the bushes that line the path holding a stick in his mouth. With those pleading big brown eyes and golden tail swishing, I know what he wants.

He wants to play with the slimy stick I tried to hide while caring for the roses. I love to play fetch with him, but not over and over. Even though it gets old, I can never refuse Chester. He’s just too damn cute. I leave the hammock and head to where he dropped the stick. I curl my fingers around it and feel the cold dampness. In an uncharacteristic move, he sits. If anyone saw him, they’d think he were an obedient mutt. I throw the stick over to the other side of the backyard hoping it’ll take him more time to find it. He hurtles after it. I only walk back to the hammock, and he's already in front of me, eyes still dancing, the stick right at my feet.

The phone rings. I pull it from my pocket and smile when I see the caller ID: Luna.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi. How’s the search going?” Luna asks.

That’s the question everyone asks lately. The search sucks. There hasn’t been a single lot that I’ve liked enough to purchase. While driving with Erika, my realtor, I found one that seemed perfect, but it wasn’t for sale. She promised to check Larkspur and Salida. Both are at least an hour away from where I live—without traffic.

“How long did it take you to find the perfect location?”

“Not long, but that’s because Mason Bradley’s in-laws owned the land. They have a house next to the center.”

“There’s a house next to the center, in the middle of nowhere?” I’m curious. “Who’d want to live there?”

“That’s where Mason’s wife grew up. It’s a long story.”

“Well, I feel like you cheated,” I say bitterly. “You should’ve started by telling me that.”

“I like to call it luck,” she laughs. “I take it you’re still searching.”

“Yeah, nothing fits my needs—or the centers’,” I explain. “The latter is what matters most.”

“You’ll find it, don’t worry. I called because Hazel organizes an annual gala in honor of Charlotte and Christopher Everhart.”

“I recall that gala,” I say, remembering my boss, Hazel Beasley. Her in-laws died in the twin towers during the 9/11 attack.

A couple of years back she decided to celebrate their lives on Charlotte’s birthday with a gala. All proceeds go to charity.

“Well, then you know that she picks a charity a couple of years in advance.”

“I do,” I answer. “What does that have to do with me?”

“I want to submit your name. I’d love it if the money went to your center.”

“That’s …” I’m speechless. They raise a lot of money at that event. “I don’t have anything set up yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. You have a plan. Your mission statement and goals are set.

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