“Do you want to…” I indicated the living room. I sank onto the couch and dragged my laptop across the coffee table to give my nervous hands something to do. When the door finally closed and Dean was inside, I was torn between relief and that same dread. “It sounds like the neighbors got you pretty caught up on the pocket park situation, but I think our combined efforts—plus I sent a ton of emails to past nonprofit clients asking their advice—should lead us in the right direction, don’t you think? We can’t let anything happen to it. We have to fight.”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Everyone’s ideas are good ones, and I…I trust you. It’s just, if that developer is going to buy it from the city, what can we actually do to fight back? I’m not trying to sound like some asshole here. Just think our hands are tied.”

A wave of dismay threatened to knock me over, but I managed to beat it back—just barely. “You’re not wrong,” I admitted. “Maybe I’m the naïve one. We knew this was likely but didn’t ever—” Take it seriously is what I wanted to say, but the sentiment wasn’t sitting right. “Never really talked about it openly. I feel bad, raising that money and getting people invested with all of the videos, but that’s also why I’m not willing to accept defeat even if it appears as though our hands are tied. This community wants to see this pocket park happen, and I think we owe it to them to try our hardest to make it work.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw—he was all coiled, restrained movement. Like that night we met at Benny’s, and it was so obvious to me Dean Knox-Morelli was holding himself back in ways I didn’t understand yet.

“You shouldn’t feel bad,” he said. “I started all of this without a plan of action. Got everyone involved and excited. Getting Eddie and Alice talking about Annie again. This is why I don’t… This is why I shouldn’t…” He raked a hand through his hair, trailing off when I suspected he wouldn’t have this morning. Before things changed.

“Why you shouldn’t what?” I asked, tucking my feet under me. “Dean, you did the right thing here. I’ve been filming you for a week now, and if you could only see how much everyone loves and respects you regardless—”

“I’m going to take the Vegas job.”

I paused, mouth still open. “You…are?”

He nodded, eyes on the floor.

“The meeting went well, then, I’m assuming?” I said, through a burst of jittery laughter covering up my shock and disappointment. Two emotions I didn’t have a right to express with my own bags packed for a contract I was feeling lukewarm about myself.