Page 28 of Startup Fire

Jake's eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? But I thought—” He caught himself, then shook his head. “Man, Wayne's going to be devastated.”

Jess's heart lurched. “What?”

“Nothing, I shouldn't have—” Jake looked uncomfortable. “Look, it's not my business. But the guy's been different since you showed up. Actually happy, you know? Shows up to poker night, makes jokes, talks about his work without being all defensive about it.” He met her eyes. “Brandon and I haven't seen him like that since before his mom died. We figured you two were—” He stopped. “Sorry. Really not my place.”

“He pushed me away,” Jess said quietly. “Yesterday. We had a fight and he just... shut down.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Wayne.” Jake sighed. “He does that. Gets scared and builds walls. But Jess? “I've known Wayne fifteen years. Never seen him this torn up over anyone.”

The words hit her square in the chest.

“Anyway.” Jake cleared his throat. “If you want to see apartments—staying or not—call me.”

“Do you have monthly leases?” Jess hated to ask, but she couldn't lock herself into anything longer right now.

“Month-to-month leases are pretty standard around here. You don't have to commit to forever, just... options.” He handed her a business card. “And for what it's worth? I hope you stay. Not just for Wayne. The town's better with you in it.”

After Jake drove off, Zoey squeezed Jess's hand. “You heard him. Stay for you first. Everything else is just details.”

Jess scoffed.

“Even Wayne.” Zoey's smile was knowing. “But between you and me? That man's head over heels. He's just too scared to admit it. The question is whether you want to wait for him to figure it out.”

After Zoey left, Jess sat for another moment, before starting her car.

She had thinking to do. But first, she needed to face her grandparents.

Time to set some boundaries.

Grandma looked up from the stove when Jess walked in. “Oh good, you're home. I was starting to worry—”

“We need to talk,” Jess said. “About the fire marshal.”

The kitchen went quiet. Grandpa lowered his newspaper.

“Grandma, Grandpa—sit down. Please.”

They settled at the table, Grandma's hands twisting together nervously.

“I know you were worried,” Jess started. “I know you called the fire marshal because you love me and want me safe. But you didn't ask Wayne. You didn't tell me. You just decided you knew better.”

“We're your grandparents,” Grandma protested. “We have a right—”

“You have a right to worry. Not to interfere.” Jess kept her voice steady. “I came back to help you. To be here when you need family. But somehow, it's become you managing my life instead.”

The silence stretched.

“I got a job offer today,” Jess continued. “San Francisco. Good salary, benefits. I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet, but having that option—it made me realize I need more space. Whether I stay or go, I need room to live a life of my own.”

Grandma's eyes filled with tears. “You might leave?”

“I don't know yet. But either way, I won’t be living here anymore. I need my own place.” Jess softened her voice. “I need to be able to breathe.”

After a long moment, Grandpa reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “We understand.”

“Do we?” Grandma whispered.

“We do,” Grandpa said firmly. He looked at Jess. “We're sorry about the fire marshal. You're right—it wasn't our call.”

That night, in her room above the garage, Jess opened her laptop and stared at the email from Marcus Nguyen. The formal offer letter, complete with salary figures that would change her life.

She opened a second tab: the winter art fair application.

Two paths. Two futures.

She had until Monday to decide.

But first, she had a fundraiser to get through.

And a grumpy blacksmith who, according to his best friend, looked at her like no one else.

Who was apparently devastated at the thought of her leaving.

Jess closed both tabs without making a decision and went to bed.

Some choices couldn't be rushed.