Pia was still reeling from the p**n joke. “You sound excited.”
“I am. I like the idea of working with the dogs and helping people. I want to make a difference, but I still don’t know if this job is the right one. Dakota and Nevada both just knew what they wanted to do with their lives. I’m an identical triplet. Shouldn’t I be like them?”
“You have to follow your own path and figure out what’s right for you. It sounds like you might have found it.”
“I hope so. I’m tired of messing up.”
“Montana, don’t beat yourself up. When have you messed up?”
Her friend shrugged. “I just turned down a full-time job with benefits. Who does that?”
“Someone who’s thinking long term.”
“I want to be good at something. Look at you. You’re great at your job.”
“I organize festivals. That’s hardly saving the world.”
“You’re an integral part of the community. What you do marks the passage of time and makes memories. Parents look forward to bringing their kids to their first Fall Festival or the Saturday of Giving. People plan their travel schedules to come here for their favorites. What you do changes the way people live.”
Pia stared at her. “Wow. I should ask for a raise.”
Montana laughed. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” She’d always loved her work, but it had never seemed all that important. Montana’s words made her rethink that concept. “I’d always focused on the fact that I bring tourists to town, which means more money for all the local businesses.”
“It’s not just about money.”
“You’re right. Which is why you shouldn’t feel bad about turning down the full-time library job. You have to think about what’s really important to you.”
“I want to make a difference,” Montana said firmly. “I’ve watched some videos about the service dogs. They’re wonderful. I could be a part of that.”
“Then I hope you get the job.”
“Me, too. It would be nice to find where I belong. I want to be more than my family name.”
“Don’t discount being a Hendrix,” Pia told her. “You’re already part of something wonderful.”
“I know, but they’re just family.”
Pia thought about her relatively solitary life. How she’d been on her own for so long, with no one to depend on. Now she was going to be responsible for three new lives. At least that was the hope.
“Family can be the most important thing of all,” she said, thinking it was sad that Keith and Crystal had only had each other, and now the babies would only have her.
Montana rolled her eyes. “Now you sound like my mother.”
“Denise is wonderful, so thanks for the compliment.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I DON’T NEED MY HAIR CUT,” Raoul told Pia as they walked down the street.
“You sound whiny,” she told him. “I expect a fairly high level of maturity from my pregnancy buddy. Don’t let me down.”
“When did you get bossy?”
“I always have been,” she said with a laugh. “I thought you would have noticed.”
The day was cool. Pia had pulled on a bright red coat over her jeans and sweater. Her boots made her a little taller, which meant she was the perfect height for kissing, he thought absently.
He liked kissing Pia. He’d liked doing more, but under the circumstances, that wasn’t on the table. She might be pregnant, and neither of them would do anything to hurt the babies. Not that she’d shown any interest in getting back in his bed. Although given what had happened the last time they’d been together, he doubted either of them would say no.
Still, he had a higher purpose here: taking care of Pia as she took care of Crystal’s embryos.
“It’s a simple rule,” Pia told him. “You alternate between the sisters. Today we’re seeing Bella. Next time you’ll go to Julia’s shop.”
“I still think getting my hair cut out of town solves the problem.”
“Coward.”
“Football taught me when to drop back and let my guys cover me.”
She paused by the glass door of the salon. “It doesn’t matter if you go out of town, Raoul. They’ll still be mad at you. Haven’t you figured it out? There’s no way to win this fight, so why not get a front-row seat and enjoy the show?”
“There’s a show?”
She smiled. “Actually, you’re the show.”
She walked inside. He hesitated for a second, then followed her into the salon.
It was midday, midweek and still nearly every station was full. As he entered the well-lit, modern space, every single person—aka woman—turned to stare at him.
A middle-aged woman with dark hair and beautiful brown eyes studied him appraisingly. “Pia, what have you brought me?”
Pia linked her arm through Raoul’s. “Bella, you can borrow him, but you can’t keep him. This is Raoul Moreno. Raoul, please meet Bella Gionni.”