Page 19 of The Maine Event (Romancing the Workplace #2)

“I just… I want to do better, to be better. For Chloe, for myself. I want to move on, let the light back into my life, into our lives. I don’t know, maybe even date again.”

I debate with myself for a moment whether to revisit the conversation, but there are still things left unsaid. Before I can revert to diplomacy, I blurt it out. “You know… moving on doesn’t just mean dating again.”

Dan’s eyes flick toward me, guarded.

I press on. “It means accepting that things change. That people change.” I glance toward the stairs. “Chloe’s growing up. And she will always be your daughter, but she won’t always be a child.”

His jaw tightens, but he stays quiet.

“You didn’t want to hear it last night,” I continue gently.

“But this is a fragile time for her. She’s figuring out who she is, testing boundaries, wanting to prove she’s more independent than she really is.

Yes, she’ll want to do things she’s not ready for.

Yes, she’ll need your rules, your guidance, your advice…

” I pause, making sure he’s really listening.

“But what she will need more than anything is your acceptance.”

Dan exhales slowly, his fingers gripping the kitchen countertop just a little tighter. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t deflect. Just lets the words settle.

Finally, he nods. “You’re right.” His voice is low, thoughtful. “I know you are. I just… I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“She will get hurt,” I say softly. “That’s all part of growing up. It’s unavoidable. But if she knows you’re there, that there’s a safety net, no matter what… That she doesn’t have to be afraid to talk to you, that’s what really matters.”

Dan is quiet for a long moment, staring out the window at the dark water beyond. Then, with a small, humorless chuckle, he shakes his head. “I think you’re right.”

I smirk. “I know I’m right.”

He huffs a quiet laugh.

I shift slightly. “Okay, serious question. What do you do for fun?”

Dan blinks. “What?”

“For fun,” I repeat. “You do know what fun is, right?”

He looks genuinely thrown, like it’s the first time anyone’s asked him that in years.

“Uh…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I work on the boathouse when I can. I work out after I drop Chloe off at school. I work at the motel.” He shrugs. “Other than reading, not a lot.”

I frown. “I hear the word work a lot. Okay, but what about friends? Hanging out?”

Dan’s expression turns slightly rueful. “Yeah… not so much. James and my friends tried for a long time. Kept inviting me out, getting me to go to events, meetups, whatever. Even signed me up to some of those dating sites. I always had an excuse.” He sighs.

“After a few years… they just stopped asking.”

I study him for a moment. The way he says it, there’s no bitterness, just a quiet acceptance. But it still makes something in my chest tighten.

“They probably just assumed you needed space,” I say carefully.

Dan nods, but his gaze stays distant. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Silence lingers again, but this time, I feel it differently.

“You know,” I say lightly, nudging his arm, “you could start saying yes.”

Dan lets out a small sigh. “Yeah.” He looks at me then, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe.”

It’s not a promise. But it’s something I can work with. After today I need a win. Badly.

Not just a work win—a personal one. Something that reminds me I can still make things happen. That I still know how to read people, shape stories, spark momentum.

And I can’t help thinking back to that early conversation with Dan. To the way he smiled when he talked about acting like it was a long-lost friend he wasn’t sure he had the right to miss.

To the way he brushed it off like it didn’t matter anymore—like it shouldn’t matter.

But what if it did?

What if I could help him believe in it again? In himself again?

He’d never ask. That much I know. And honestly, that’s half the problem. People like Dan—quietly decent, relentlessly selfless—they’re so used to putting others first, they forget they ever had a dream of their own.

But I remember.

I saw it. The flicker.

And then, like a spark igniting, an idea takes hold in my mind.

“What if… What if you threw a party? For finishing the boathouse, to celebrate your new start?”

He looks at me, skepticism mingling with curiosity in his expression.

“What kind of party?”

“A housewarming party! A chance to celebrate this new chapter, to surround yourself with people who care about you, who support you. It could be like drawing a line in the sand, marking the beginning of something new and wonderful.”

I can see the wheels turning in his head as he considers it, the initial reluctance giving way to a glimmer of possibility. Then, just as quickly, a cloud seems to pass behind his eyes.

“I don’t know, Rachel. It’s been so long since I’ve invited anyone over. I don’t really have friends anymore.”

I lean in closer, my voice filled with conviction.

“That’s exactly why you need to do this, Dan. It’s time to start living again, to embrace the love and the light that’s all around you. This party could be the first step, a chance to heal, to find joy and purpose again. And even if you don’t want to do it for you. Do it for Chloe.”

He stares at me for a long moment, the conflict playing out across his face. And then, slowly, a smile begins to tug at the corners of his mouth.

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s do it. Let’s throw a party.”

And as he clinks his bottle against my wine glass, sealing our pact, I feel a surge of warmth and hope blossoming in my chest. I remember the reruns Mom used to make Claire and I watch when we were kids, shows from the eighties I think, Highway to Heaven and Quantum Leap .

Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected detour in Maine is my Quantum Leap moment—leaving a little bit of cheer and happiness with those who need it, before I take my leave and head back to Chicago.

I sip from my glass of wine as I watch Dan’s expression shift from hesitation to determination. It’s a subtle change, but I can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes, the way his shoulders straighten ever so slightly.

“So, where do we start?” he asks, leaning forward on his elbows. “I haven’t exactly been one of the guys, lately. I’ve been hiding out at the house, focusing on Chloe. There’s a really good chance that no one will show up.”

I can’t help but chuckle at his self-deprecating humor. It’s endearing.

“Well, first things first, and I’m assuming you don’t mind me organizing things, we need to make a guest list. Who are the people you want to surround yourself with, the ones who have been there for you through thick and thin?”

Dan furrows his brow, lost in thought for a moment. “I guess there’s my brother, James. He’s always had my back. And maybe some of the guys from the boat club, the ones who knew Rebecca…”

His voice trails off, and I can see the pain flicker across his face at the mention of his late wife. Instinctively, I reach out and place my hand on his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“That’s a great start,” I say softly, my thumb tracing circles on his skin. “And what about Chloe’s friends? I’m sure she’d love to have some of her classmates over for the party, and you could get to know their parents.”

Just then, Chloe bounds down the stairs, her face alight with excitement. “Did I hear something about a party?” she asks eagerly.

“Rachel here has convinced me to throw a housewarming,” Dan explains, still sounding a bit hesitant.

“A housewarming party? For me?” Chloe practically squeals with delight.

“For us, actually,” he corrects.

“Whatever. A party! Oh my gosh, that would be amazing!”

She spins around the room, already bubbling over with eagerness. “We could have a DJ and dancing! And snacks! Ooh, what about a sundae bar?”

Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I can’t help but grin. This is exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for.

“See?” I say to Dan, my smile triumphant. “Told you she’d be thrilled.”

Dan shakes his head, but I can see a smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, alright. I can see I’m outnumbered here.”

“Yes!” Chloe exclaims, rushing over to hug him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! This is going to be epic. When can we have it?”

As I watch their embrace, a thought occurs to me. “Hey Dan, what kind of budget are we looking at for this shindig?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll make it work.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I appreciate the sentiment, but parties can add up fast. Why don’t we keep it simple? We could do a potluck, have people bring dishes to share. And I can pick up some balloons, streamers, that kind of thing. Doesn’t have to be fancy to be fun.”

Dan looks at me, a mix of gratitude and something else I can’t quite place in his eyes. “I appreciate it. But if we’re going to do it, let’s do it properly.”

“Okay then. Let me get some quotes and put together a plan.”

“Whoa, whoa. I’m not expecting you to organize everything. I can manage?—”

“Tell me, Dan,” I interrupt him, “when was the last time you threw a party? No, scrap that. When was the last time you even attended a party?”

He laughs, “Oh, come on. A keg in the corner, popcorn, beer pong, some sodas for the kids… how hard can it be to organize a few drinks?”

“What you’ve just described is a fraternity bash. That is not a party. Look, trust me on this. Leave it with me and I’ll wow you.”

“I feel like I should contribute at least.”

“You are contributing! You’re paying for it. But please, I need this. I need a project to work on, otherwise I’ll just be sitting in my motel room having an existential crisis while I wait for the ash cloud to pass.”

“Well, okay then. When you put it like that.”

“Thank you. But we still need a date. Any birthdays coming up, or significant dates?—”

Dan’s eyes widen as a thought strikes him. “You know what? Let’s do it this weekend. Why wait?”