Page 113 of The Quit List

What I wasn’t expecting was how much I would miss it out in the wilderness.

Have any more bookings come in yet?

Too many. A ton of booking requests, lots of interest. I haven’t been able to keep up. And it’s all thanks to you and your amazing videos.

I’m so happy to hear that.

And I am. Of course I am. Though it’s a bit of a double-edged sword, I’m glad to hear that the work I’ve been doing has paid off.

Over the past few days of my being homebound, I’ve made the most of it by uploading the pictures and videos I took on our hike to Jax’s company socials.

It’s been… fun. Energizing. I’ve loved having the chance to be creative and dig right in to showing just how amazing Jax and his business are. I switched on my best marketing brain and came up with good captions, researched niche hashtags that would reach the right audience, and even put together a highlight reel that I pinned to his Instagram. I also uploaded it to his website as the background to the homepage and it looks excellent, if I do say so myself.

I was almost upset when I finished all the things on my marketing to-do list because I enjoyed it so much.

In comparison, fortunately (or maybe unfortunately), I’ve been cleared to go back to work tomorrow. Not only do I feel stuck and unfulfilled there, but Dylan has been messaging me to tell me I’ll be doing back-office work until my foot is better for “aesthetic reasons.”

Quite frankly, I’m a bit annoyed at myself that it took me this long to realize what an absolute douchewad that man is.

I put my phone to the side and clamber to my feet clumsily. “I might go to bed,” I tell Aubrey. For some reason, I’m no longer in the mood for raunchy TV office romance and somebody turned off my Bear Grylls fest. “No offense to you or Suits, but I’m pretty tired.”

“Okay, Hol.” My roommate gives me a hug. “Big day tomorrow, hey? Back to business.”

“Ugh. Could not be less excited for it.”

Although I’ll be glad to see Raquel and catch up with any Peeping Tom ghost drama that happened while I was away, overall, I could not be less excited to be back in the swing of things.

Back in the city with a bandaged ankle and my job at the hotel, while Jax is back where he belongs in the wilderness, getting ever increasing reasons to stay out longer. As nice as it was to be wild and free for a little while—and I’ve loved living out my quit list—real life still comes with some responsibilities. And working for Dylan Hanlin is sadly one of mine.

Back to good ol’ reliable, responsible Holly.

40

JAX

I frown at my phone, rereading Holly’s messages and feeling totally unsure what to think. Something feels off.

It’s probably my fault for chickening out and telling her that Rick misses her instead of being upfront and confessing that it’s me who misses her.

A lot more than I would have ever imagined I was capable of missing anyone. I thought I’d feel better after I got the satellite internet installed and I could text her, but if anything, texting with her has just sharpened my current feelings of aloneness.

Coming up to the cabin knowing that I wouldn’t be able to contact her for two days didn’t sit right with me, but when she encouraged me to go, I went.

I knew I had things to do. It was only sensible.

And now, I’m standing in the middle of the cabin’s living room, which features plenty of plushy furniture and nature-themed local artwork hanging on the walls. I turn in a circle as I take in the fully-stocked kitchen, and the open door to the dormitory bedroom which now features twelve perfectly made-up beds.

The lit-up patio is perfectly visible through the double doors at the end of the room.

I’m looking at my dream incarnate. Years of planning, followed by months of hard work to make it happen, and finally the doors to Grainger Guides will officially open tomorrow to welcome the first guests.

I wasn’t sure about the name, but Holly convinced me to keep it. Said it rolled off the tongue nicely and centered me as the face of the company.

Which is a strange thing to consider—I’ve never thought of myself as the face of anything, but here we are.

“What do you think, Rick?” I ask my dog, who retreated to the living room’s shaggy rug after his photo shoot and now appears to be sleeping, clearly not thinking about anything at all.

I should feel elated. Full of excitement. And I am excited… but something’s missing.