by Dave Daren
“What do you mean?” I said.
“Well,” he said. “We’ve got so much work we’re turning clients down left and right. Some of this work comes from other parts of the country. And then we’ve got the BBC account.”
“Right,” I said. “I worked on the Sherlock series.”
“That’s right,” he said. “We sent you to London to close that deal. I remember that. The kid we got on that now. Pshh.”
He rolled his eyes and made a disapproving face. He sipped his plastic glass of champagne and I stared out of the party, and dug my hands in my pockets.
“I was thinking from time to time,” he said. “We could send some work your way. You and Vicki are both trained in the Sanchez way. I trust you as a partner, and from everything I remember about Vicki, she was a good hard worker. I’m sure as a junior partner, she’s probably kick ass.”
If it wasn’t for that last sentence, my pride would have turned down his offer. But, the truth was, Vicki wasn’t as kick ass as she could be, simply because there wasn’t enough work. And they were continually turning clients away?
“I’d appreciate that,” I said. “We’ve got a good, solid team. A lot of room for growth. Keep in touch.”
“I will do that, Henry,” he said. “I will do.”
There was an announcement from the other side of the field.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jagger was on a microphone and drew to a makeshift stage.
“Thank you for all coming out to celebrate these bad asses,” his thick Australian accent filled the field.
There was loud applause and cheering.
“We love you, Vicki and Henry,” he toasted us with a beer bottle, and I nodded back.
“We’ve got a surprise guest for this afternoon,” he said. “Please welcome the one, the only Jasmine Stone.”
Our client Jasmine, was tall, blonde, and wore a skintight sequined dress. She took the stage to a roaring applause and blew a kiss to the crowd.
“Thank you,” she said. “This for Vicki and Henry, whom, I unfortunately won’t be able to make it to the wedding, as it falls during Grammy Week.”
I laughed as I heard a chorus of,“Yeah, what’s up with that?”
“But,” Jasmine said, “theirs is a story about two people, falling love, while working together to build something beautiful. May it inspire us all to find that special someone.”
There was a light cheer, and she launched into her latest hit. It was a pop love song that had in the last few months found a home eternal deep in the recesses of American popular culture. But, I’d give her credit, she added a few bits and pieces to spice it up.
“Do you love it?” AJ found me.
“I do, AJ,” I said. “I can’t thank you enough. I am truly touched.”
“Ah,” she gasped with relief. “Thank God. It was a ton of work. Fortunately most of them drove. I don’t think I could handle picking up two hundred people from the airport. And then there was the River guy that wanted to take over.”
I laughed. “Thanks for getting him here, AJ. It made my year.”
“He spent half the morning distracting Phoenix with plans for a bachelor party,” she said. “I don’t know what they came up with, but just a heads up.”
I laughed. “Thanks AJ, really. I owe you.”
My mother emerged from somewhere.
“Hello, AJ,” she said. “Great party. Did you get the salsa?”
Ah, yes. My dad had his own brand of salsa based on a “paranormal encounter” he’d had with Jimi Hendrix.
“Saffron,” AJ gushed. “Yes, I did. The caterers incorporated it into the condiments. Good to see you.
“Good to hear,” my mom said. “We loved the first draft of the movie. We can’t wait to see what you guys do with it.”
“Totally,” she said. “Phoenix wants Harmony to be an extra.”
“Oh, she’ll love that,” my mom said.
AJ’s phone buzzed. “Ah, that’s the caterers. I’ll catch up with guys later. “
“See you,” I said.
AJ disappeared and my mom turned to me.
“It’s a beautiful party,” she said.
“It is,” I said. “They did a great job.”
“I’m so proud of you, Henry,” she said and her eyes misted. “I don’t tell you that enough. Everything you’re doing for the people of this town, for...Phoenix, and look at all the people who drove hours just to be here today. I couldn’t be more proud.”
“Oh mom,” I said.
I hugged her and her tears of joy left a puddle on my shoulder.
“Enjoy your party,” she said as she released me and wiped the tears from her eyes. “You earned it.”
Then over the next hour and some change, I was approached by everyone I had met in the past year in Sedona.
There was Bloodhound Bill, a tracker and manhunter with a deep desire to become a reality TV star who had not only helped me during Harmony’s case, but had chased a kidnapped zebra with me. Then, there was Perry McGrath, who lived on a hippie commune, and made kombucha. I had almost had to deliver their firstborn son in a van. Then, there was Julianna, who had on her arm a new beau I hadn’t met.
Toby Lithgoe congratulated me. He had Jannette, the stripper that had hooked up with Brent on his arm. Eh, I didn’t know that he would ever settle down. Then, Horace, the hulk of a man, greeted me with a warm smile and a hug. On and on they came.
Vicki rejoined me, and I smiled as I took her hand. And so I stood on the site of our undeveloped home, surrounded by both my past and my present, and they all joined to celebrate my future.
And I had Vicki by my side. For now. For always. Till death do us part.
The End.
Author’s Notes
Thank you for reading my novel! This is the last story about Henry in Sedona, but he’ll live happily ever after. If you liked this series, please leave me a review here, and make sure you check out my other novels here.
Amazon will not update readers when an author comes out with a new book unless you follow that author on the store. So please make sure you click this link and then click on the follow button. Once you follow me on Amazon, you will get an update email from them a few weeks after my next book comes out.
If you want to get notified of my books the day that they come out, make sure you join my newsletter on my website. Then I’ll email you as soon as they are published.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2021 Dave Daren