Love Rents A Room
Chapter 78: Celebrating Crowd

Chapter 78: Celebrating Crowd

Joanne looked down at Charlotte, her blue eyes glimmering with joy and love. Against all odds, her lips curved. A smile. A real, genuine smile.

It surprised even her. She didn’t know she had this kind of grace in her. This kind of strength.

It wasn’t Charlotte’s fault, after all.

And maybe... just maybe, Joanne wasn’t as bitter as she thought she was.

"How could I not wish you luck?" she murmured, pulling down her hat and ruffling Charlotte’s hair with a fond sigh.

Then she noticed it—a disaster of a hairstyle, strands sticking out in every direction like she’d gotten ready in a hurry. Joanne let out a soft breath, instinctively smoothing it down, fixing the messy tie so Charlotte looked polished and comfortable for her match.

"All the best," she said, her voice gentle as she patted Charlotte’s cheek. "I want to see you in the finals."

Charlotte’s whole face lit up as she nodded enthusiastically, her excitement untainted by the shadows looming over the adults around her.

But Jonathan saw.

From a distance, he watched—his hands clenching into fists.

He had no right to feel this way, but guilt churned in his gut like poison. So much could go wrong now.

He marveled at Joanne’s strength, the way she managed to put on a loving face for Charlotte when he had just ripped her heart out. But deep inside that gnawing guilt, fear crept in.

Because Joanne held the power to drive a deep, irreparable wedge between him and his daughter if she wanted to.

And she should.

He knew Charlotte loved Joanne. Knew she’d side with her if it came down to it.

He needed to talk to her. Needed to apologize. But what words could possibly fix this?

Beside him, Valerie watched the anguish on his face. She swallowed hard. "I’m sorry," she whispered.

Jonathan didn’t look at her.

He just exhaled, ran a hand down his face, and—without thinking—reached for her hand, giving it a light squeeze.

It wasn’t just Valerie’s fault. He had played a part in this disaster, too.

Now, he had to deal with the wreckage.

He wouldn’t mind it if Joanne wanted to get back at him. He would take anything. Anything but coming between his daughter and him.

-----

Nina sank into her seat, feigning nonchalance, but inside, her heart thrummed with excitement. She had struck gold. This was it—the moment she would go viral.

By tomorrow, major accounts would be reposting her footage. Her follower count would skyrocket. She could practically see her name trending. Joanne’s precious farm? Pfft. That would be nothing compared to the influencer empire Nina was about to build.

Meanwhile, Joanne inhaled deeply, straightened her shoulders, and walked forward as if nothing had happened. She had spent years mastering the art of swallowing pain. This was no different.

She greeted people with a polite smile, even as she felt the weight of a particular glare.

Tom Sullivan.

From his place in the bleachers, his piercing stare bore into her, thick with hostility. Beside him, the mayor sat stiffly, eyes carefully avoiding hers.

Joanne fought the urge to roll her eyes—but only fought it halfway. The eye roll came anyway.

Petty men.

The crowd was abuzz with laughter and chatter as the event finally kicked off. Liam had arrived with Fiona, stepping into his role as the announcer. He had always dreamed of becoming a sports commentator, though life had dealt him a different path. But here, at least, he could live out that passion, microphone in hand.

Fireworks burst into the sky as the national anthem played, echoing over the field.

The mayor droned through his speech, introducing the chief guests. Joanne, however, had her own plans.

She leaned into Liam and whispered something in his ear. His eyes widened. A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face.

When the mayor finished, Liam cleared his throat, his voice booming with excitement.

"And next, let’s invite our genius businesswoman, our favorite... The pride of Rockchapel... Joanne Smith!"

The crowd erupted. Cheers rang out, a standing ovation sweeping through the field.

The mayor twitched, his mouth half-open as if to object, but the sheer volume of the applause swallowed him whole.

Joanne stepped forward with an easy, confident smile. She turned to the mayor, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I could run for mayor, you know." She winked, taking the microphone from him.

The mayor, red-faced and sweating, wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, glancing around nervously. The people weren’t just clapping for Joanne. They were celebrating her.

Joanne basked in it, waving like a starlet.

Liam, watching from the bleachers, caught sight of his older brother, Tom, leering at Joanne.

His stomach twisted.

Tom’s smirk was the kind that made Liam’s fists itch. It was condescending, dismissive. The kind of look that said, If she didn’t want men looking, she shouldn’t have dressed like that.

Joanne, oblivious—or perhaps deliberately ignoring him—raised a hand to quiet the crowd. The cheers didn’t fully die down, but she pressed on anyway.

"Y’all know me..."

Another wave of applause.

Joanne grinned, waiting for it to settle.

"I wanted to do something for the kids here." Her voice rang with sincerity, cutting through the noise. "Our kids are talented. But because of a lack of funding and exposure, they don’t always get the opportunities they deserve."

A hush fell over the crowd, people hanging onto her words.

"This year, I—on behalf of Shamrock Logistics—will award ten grand to the winning team and five grand to the runners-up."

A murmur rippled through the audience.

Joanne let the suspense build, then smiled.

"And the MVP?" She made a dramatic pause, then placed a hand over her heart and dipped into a playful bow. "A full college scholarship. Sponsored by yours lovingly."

For a moment, there was stunned silence.

Then the crowd erupted.

The cheers tore through the sky, even louder than before.

From the sidelines, JD leaned against a pole, watching it all unfold with an amused smirk. He had asked Joanne to handle PR, but knowing her, that hadn’t even been on her mind.

She did this because she cared.

Still, she’d name-dropped Shamrock Logistics, and JD spotted a few reporters jotting down notes. This was going to hit the local papers, maybe even beyond. Good.

"Let the games commence!" Joanne clapped, signaling the official start. Although she might not have been invited and the powers that be might not want her there, she knew she deserved a place in the event. She wasn’t going to wait for them to hold the door open for her; she would break it down and enter, just as she had done all her life.

The crowd roared.

But not everyone was celebrating.

Tom Sullivan stood up, his face twitching with barely restrained fury. That was his line. His moment. And Joanne had stolen it.

But no one even noticed. No one cared.

His hands fisted in his pockets as he stared at her, seething.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.