When we leave the bar, I tip my head up. The sky is clear, stars sparkling above our heads. And of course, one shoots across the night sky. I roll my eyes. It’s just a coincidence. Not a sign. Taking that guy’s number would have been a mistake. One I saved myself from making with a little white lie.

  2

  JUGGLE ALL THE THINGS

  LONDON

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  I arrive at Spark House an hour early on Monday morning. The hotel is an old converted house on a huge piece of land, allowing us to set up unique events and provide an intimate, eclectic space for guests. It is sort of like a cross between a bed-and-breakfast and a small boutique hotel. It’s been in our family for three generations, and Avery, Harley, and I took it over when our grandmother decided to retire a couple of years ago.

  While I love working with my sisters, some parts of this job aren’t particularly easy for me, so I like giving myself extra time to prepare when no one else is here and I don’t have an audience.

  Today I have to touch base with one of our prospective clients who asked for a call first thing this morning. They emailed late last night with a list of questions. I don’t want to lose out on this opportunity, so I figured it would be a good idea to come in early and rehearse my answers. I have a million other things to do today, such as making prototypes for this weekend’s centerpieces, but this is my first priority.

  We could definitely use this particular client’s business, especially since we’re looking at expanding our kitchen facilities so we can host larger events. That kind of renovation comes with a pretty hefty price tag, though.

  After the call, I can shift my focus to something a bit more enjoyable.

  I drop my bag beside my desk and fire up my computer. I spend a few minutes drafting my responses and tweaking the language before I read it aloud. I fuss over word choice and inflection, going back and changing the wording a few times. My goal is to be able to sell them on hosting their event here.

  “Why is this so freaking hard?” I grumble.

  “Why is what so freaking hard?” Harley asks, startling me.

  “Why are you here so early?” I feel my face turning red with embarrassment. Normally when I rehearse calls, I do it in private, and sometimes in front of a mirror.

  “I’m not. It’s almost nine. Avery and I just got here.”

  “Oh. Where’s Avery?” I glance at the clock on my screen. It is indeed almost nine, which means I’ve been trying to compose a conversation for more than an hour, and I have less than twenty minutes left to prepare for this call.

  “In the backyard, trying to decide where she wants to set up the outdoor component for this weekend’s event.” She tips her head to the side. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, feeling the tightness there. “I should have done this last night.” I hit print on the file, so I have all of my responses in front of me. “Can you read this over and tell me if I’m missing anything?”

  “Sure, of course.” Harley grabs the sheets and drops into the chair across from me, scanning them. “What is this for?”

  “The Kendalls. I had a call with them last week about a potential event in the fall. It’s a really great initiative. They host a holiday-themed event for terminal kids. I have a follow-up call in a few minutes.” I hate the nervous flutter in my stomach, like it’s full of butterflies, and not the nice kind. I haven’t eaten yet and won’t until after I speak with them.

  She stops reading for a second to glance at me, a slight furrow in her brow. “Is this why you came in early?”

  “I wanted to get it out of the way, so I didn’t have to worry about it all morning.” Worrying is something I excel at, unlike preparing for a phone call.

  “It looks good to me. I don’t think you have anything to be anxious about.” Her gaze shifts to my star jar as I toss another puffy one in with the rest. It was empty this morning, and now it’s already half full.

  “I just don’t want to mess this up. If we get their event, and we do a good job, they might let us host it every year. And I think it’s a really great cause.”

  “You’ve got this, London. You’re going to be fine.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I take a deep breath. “Can you hang out, though, until after the call, so I have backup in case I need it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks.”

  I take a few deep breaths before I make the call to the Kendalls. I’m on edge at first, and I can hear the anxiety in my own voice. Harley gives me the thumbs-up and then the calm down signal, mouthing, You’ve got this. It turns out all my worrying and fretting this morning was for nothing, because fifteen minutes later I’m cracking jokes and setting up a meeting for them to come in next week to sign paperwork and put down a deposit.

  “See, I told you! You had it in the bag before you even made the call.”

  “This stuff is always so stressful for me,” I admit as I deflate in my chair.

  Her smile drops, and she rolls one of my stars between her fingers. “Always? As in every time you call a new client?”

  “Basically, yes.”

  “Oh wow. I had no idea. I thought this kind of thing was totally in your wheelhouse.”

  I put on a good show, even for my sisters, but the truth is, I got stuck in the role as the person who handles the business and financial side. I think it’s because I’m organized and am good with numbers, so I just fell into this position.

  “Not even a little bit in my wheelhouse.” I give her a wry smile. “I have a decent game face, but this call was unexpected, and I didn’t want to screw it up because they have all these great sponsors that they work with. I thought it would be good for Spark House to have that kind of connection, especially with what they’re doing for those kids.”

  “Maybe Avery should field those calls?”

  “She already manages all the event coordination stuff once things are set up. It wouldn’t be fair to put more on her.” I dump my star jar into the tote bin under my desk. I use the stars for centerpieces and decorations for events, so they’re not completely without a purpose.

  “Yeah, but if stuff like this is taking up hours of your day, how effective is that?”

  “It’s not usually this bad,” I backtrack. “Besides, Avery’s already a ball of stress, and having her take on more stuff around here isn’t going to make that better.”

  “We really need to hire someone to help out, even part-time would be better than nothing,” Harley says.

  “You know I’m on board; it’s Avery we need to convince. With her already being worried about the wedding, and now the whole proposal for expanding the kitchen, I can’t see her jumping at even more change.”

  “Don’t I know it. I wish she weren’t so hardheaded about this.” Harley shakes her head. “Sometimes I feel like we need to revisit this unanimous decision making and go with majority rules. We’d get a lot further that way.”

  “Yeah, but then Avery would be miserable, and she’d accuse us of conspiring against her,” I point out.

  “Maybe after the wedding it’ll be easier.”

  “We can only hope.”

  Harley and I tried to broach the subject a few weeks ago, and Avery nearly bit our heads off going on about how this is our legacy and blah blah blah. We gave up when she started in on the importance of keeping it a family business. “Heads up, she’s going to be asking about flowers for her wedding. For someone who is usually awesome at planning events, her wedding seems to be a hot mess.”

  “That’s because it doesn’t have anything to do with sports. They should just get married in a stadium, during a soccer game at halftime or something.” I open the box of photos that were left for me for the upcoming wedding anniversary event.

  Harley’s eyes flare and dart around, possibly to make sure we’re alone. “Don’t you dare say that in front of Avery!”

  “Because she’ll think it’s a great idea?”

  Harley picks up one of the wedding photos. “For sure she would. As it is, she’s been tossing around the idea of having a soccer net as the archway. They should probably just say ‘I scored’ instead of ‘I do.’”

  I laugh. “I can actually see this all happening in my head.”

  “Me too. Let’s never mention it again. It’s not as if Avery needs more ideas. She’s trying to incorporate everything she loves into one day. It’s either going to be awesome or a shitshow.”

  “Let’s be real, it’s probably going to be both. You know she’ll try to organize the entire thing and be the bride at the same time.”

  “Yup. If either of us gets married, can we just agree to hire wedding planners, so we don’t do this to ourselves?”

  “Absolutely.” I hold out my pinkie and Harley links hers with mine.

  Harley will definitely settle down eventually, but I’m not so sure wedding bells are in my future. Harley has been destined for motherhood her entire life, always the caretaker. I stepped into that role after our parents passed away, or at least I tried to. Avery had been in college and I’d been a freshman in high school. Harley was in middle school, and their loss rocked us all. I don’t know if it’s possible to ever truly recover from losing your parents in such a devastating way, but the days keep passing, and we keep on going.

  I continue flipping through the box of photographs that chronicle the Wilsons’ life together. Their daughter has done a great job pulling images that tell a story and organizing them from first date, to their wedding, pregnancies, births, children’s weddings, and grandbabies and great-grandbabies.

  I stop at a picture of the Wilsons’ thirtieth wedding anniversary and a lump forms in my throat.

  Harley gives me a sad smile. “Mom and Dad’s anniversary is next month.”

  I nod. Every year on our parents’ anniversary, the three of us celebrate together. It’s always bittersweet, in part because their wedding anniversary is also the anniversary of their death. They’d gone on a trip, just the two of them, a little weekend getaway, but there had been a huge storm and an even bigger accident on the highway. They’d never come home, and our lives had been changed forever.

  If they were still here, so much would be different. My job, my life, our family.

  “What do you want to do this year? Should we book a table somewhere? Or just watch a movie and order in?” Harley asks.

  Our parents’ first date was dinner and a movie. “We should order in and watch When Harry Met Sally.”

  Harley nods. “That sounds perfect.”

  “I think so too. We’ll order all their favorite foods and celebrate their love together.”

  We shift away from the topic of our parents. I still find it hard to talk about them. No matter how long they’ve been gone, that wound always feels fresh. I worry that part of my problem with relationships is that I’m afraid to get too close to anyone other than my sisters because partners can walk away so easily, but family is different. At least ours is. I know what it feels like to lose someone essential to my life, and the possibility that I could give my heart to someone who will discard it is terrifying. So I don’t.

  Harley and I go over the plans for the weekend, her schedule of posts leading up to the event, and the other things she handles around Spark House. While her main role is social media director, she often manages random tasks when things get overwhelming or we’re juggling preparations for multiple events. Which is basically all the time now.

  Last year when Avery was in the car accident, both Harley and I had to take on a lot of tasks that weren’t in our previous job descriptions. While we made it work, there’s a reason Avery is the face of Spark House, and Harley and I function more in the background. Sure, I make connections with other businesses, but Avery is the one who builds relationships with clients and comes up with ideas for the events. She’s the real heart and soul of Spark House.

  Harley and I work together on the fiftieth wedding anniversary collage, arranging the photos so we have a visual progression of the Wilsons’ relationship. At one point, I have to excuse myself to the bathroom so I can collect myself. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s tears. Other people’s are fine, but I thoroughly dislike shedding them. It makes me feel weak. And like I don’t have control over my emotions. I try to stay in check most of the time, otherwise I get anxious, and then I’m liable to spiral, which isn’t something I want. It used to happen often after my parents passed. The panic was hard to manage sometimes, but I’ve found ways to cope.

  We’re just putting the finishing touches on the collages—there were enough photos to make ten—when the phone rings. Harley and I both glance at the name on the screen.

  “Holt Media? Why does that sound familiar?”

  Harley shrugs. “You answer. I’ll look them up and feed you details if you need them.”

  “That’s a smart plan.” I give her a thumbs-up while she speedily types on her phone. If I were alone, I’d search on my desktop, but Harley is accustomed to doing almost everything on a six-inch screen.

  I clear my throat, roll my shoulders back, and answer the call. “Hello, Spark House, London speaking, how may I help you?”

  “Hello, London, I’m Mitchell, the personal assistant to CEO Jackson Holt, of Holt Media and Consulting. I was wondering if you had a moment to speak.”

  That’s a mouthful of a title, and the CEO part puts me on alert. “Of course, how can I help you?”

  Harley’s eyes go wide, and she turns her phone around so I can see what she does as she mouths, Holy shit. I put my hand over the receiver and peer at the screen. The Instagram account shows that Holt Media and Consulting has over three million followers. And I thought Spark House was doing great with a hundred thousand.

  Who are these people? I mouth at my sister.

  “I have no idea, but you need to talk to them,” she whispers.

  I tune back in just in time to hear: “… new initiative. Our social media relations manager has had a conversation with one of your business liaison partners, who suggested we meet with you. We’d like to hear more about your hotel to see if you’d be a welcomed addition to our network. Our company helps connect other companies who are working toward the same goals. Your green campaigns are something the CEO here is particularly passionate about, and we like your mission statement. We’re seeking out more family-run companies like Spark House. I see you’re based in Colorado Springs, and we’re currently in Colorado hosting an event in Denver. Would you or someone from your staff be interested in meeting with myself and our account manager to see if you’d be the right fit for Holt Media?”

  Wow. This is exactly what we’ve been looking for to take us to the next level. And maybe make the projected kitchen renovations possible sooner than we thought. Avery is going to freak out.

  “Yes. We would. Absolutely be interested. In a meeting, that is.” And I better be able to string a full sentence together during that meeting.

  “Excellent. We have an opening tomorrow at eleven a.m. I’m aware it’s very short notice, and we understand if it’s not adequate time to fit us into your schedule. If it’s not possible, we can revisit in a month or so.”

  I flip to our calendar, and I see that Avery has the morning blocked off for her own wedding planning and Harley is scheduled to take a bunch of promo shots for our new brochure. I have a morning meeting, but it can be moved around, which means that I’ll be the one to take the meeting. The nerves start, but I urge myself not to let it get to me until after I end the call. “Eleven a.m. tomorrow morning sounds perfect. I’ll be there.”

  “That’s fantastic. Thank you for your flexibility, Miss Spark. Our event is at the Concord. Do you know where that is?”

  “It’s downtown. That’s a Mills Hotel, correct?” I can picture it in my head. It’s a gorgeous hotel that boasts stunning views.

  “Yes, exactly. We’ll email you with the details and directions.”

  I give him my email address and scribble down the name of the hotel, while Harley looks it up. I thank Mitchell, probably more times than is reasonable, and tell him I look forward to meeting him in person tomorrow. I end the call with shaking hands and turn to Harley.

  We both check to make sure the red light is off on the phone before we jump out of our chairs, grab each other by the shoulders, and shriek in unison. “Holy crap! I’m meeting with Holt Media tomorrow!”

  “I know! This is crazy awesome!” She starts jumping up and down so I join her, but stop abruptly.

  “I don’t know anything about this company. Oh my God, Harley. I don’t even really know what the heck this meeting is about. He said something about connecting companies and adding us to their network.”

  “We definitely need to do some research,” Harley says.

  “Avery should be the one taking this meeting. You know how she is with presentations; she lives for talking about how great Spark House is.” She’s a natural and I’m not.

  “But you’ll be awesome. It’ll be just like the phone call this morning.”

  Which I spent an hour preparing for. “What if I screw it up? This is a big deal, Harley. Do you think Avery can move around her thing tomorrow?”

  She shakes her head. “She has to meet with the caterers or else everyone is going to eat hamburgers and hot dogs at the wedding. And remember, they called us on a recommendation, so they’re already invested. You’ve got this.”

  “I’ve got this,” I repeat.

  And just like that, I have an entirely new to-do list.

  3

  PRESENTATE, DON’T HESITATE

  LONDON

  Harley, Avery, and I have taken over the living room in Avery’s apartment, laptops perched on couch cushions, take-out boxes littering the coffee table. We’re doing Holt Media research and trying to figure out what all I’ll need to focus on when I meet with them tomorrow.

  “Okay, let’s review what we know so far about Holt Media. Then, if you want, you can run through the presentation you usually give to new prospective clients, although you’re nailing it, so I’m not sure you really need the extra practice.” Harley pops a mint into her mouth.