“Enough,” she whispered to herself. “Enough now.”
She turned and headed for her car.
* * *
Sabrina’s entire body gave a slight jerk, as if it wanted to run and the only thing preventing it from doing so was her feet, glued to the ground. Everything within her wanted to chase Adley, wanted to vault over the counter and sprint through the front door and run down the street after her, shouting her name.Everythingwithin her.
But what if she did that? What would she say when she caught up? What would have changed once she caught up? How would their situation be any different than it had been from the beginning once she caught up?
The answer was clear. Loud. In neon in her head.
It wouldn’t.
She wanted to cry, right there in her place of business, among new employees looking to her as the boss of their boss. Right in front of small children and ice cream and balloons. She wanted to burst into tears and scream about how unfair things were. The distance and the business and the deception. It was too much to come back from. She knew that. It broke her heart, but she knew it.
“You okay?” Jennifer Fisher asked as she sidled up next to her.
“Me? Sure. Why?”
A half shrug. “You just looked sad and far away for a minute there.”
Good to know her exact emotions were written all over her face. She fixed her expression and nodded. “Just thinking about going home is all.”
“Oh, gotcha. I bet you can’t wait.” They watched the customers for a moment before Jennifer added, “Well, we hope you’ll miss Northwood just a little bit.”
“You have no idea,” Sabrina said softly. “No idea at all.”
Chapter Eighteen
Seven months later…
“You’re sure this is what you want to do?” Brody asked, both hands wrapped around her mug.
Adley sat next to her sister in Starbucks on a snowy Sunday morning in March on a small, worn love seat near the gas fireplace in the corner. Winter was still hanging on in Northwood, by its fingernails, letting all its snow melt and allowing one fifty-degree day before plunging temps back down below freezing and dropping another three inches on the city. March was the worst, as far as Adley was concerned.
It was fairly busy for a Sunday, the quiet hum of conversation all around them. Adley took a sip of her caramel mocha latte and gazed into the fire for a long moment before nodding. “It is. I mean, it’snot, but I think it’s for the best. I’ve barely made payroll for the past month and a half, and it’s offseason. I haven’t taken a paycheck yet this year. The bank won’t extend me another loan, and honestly, I don’t want to dig myself into a deeper financial hole. No.” She blew out a breath and said sadly, “I have to close.”
Brody’s hand was warm as it closed over hers. “I’m really sorry, Ad.”
“Thanks.”
“When, do you think?”
“Couple weeks.”
“Ugh. I’m sorry,” Brody said again.
“Yeah.” She took a deep breath, lifting her shoulders with it, andlet it out. “Hey, you remember Josh Greenfield from school?” When Brody squinted at her, she added, “Tall, big teeth, kinda gangly?”
“Oh! Yeah. Yeah, I remember him.”
“He runs a restaurant on the west side and told me he’s looking for a hostess-slash-assistant manager, so I’m going to go talk with him in a week or two about it.”
“That’s great.” Brody was being extra cheerful, and Adley both loved her for it and wanted to roll her eyes. She didn’t need coddling. She was way over coddling. Way over it. But she knew Brody meant well, was just being supportive, so she thanked her.
Desperate to change the subject, she asked, “How are things at home?”
Brody lifted one shoulder in a clear attempt to be nonchalant. She’d stopped seeing the redheaded guy a couple months ago, vowing to work harder on her marriage. “I don’t know, Ad. I know I promised Mom that I’d do my best, but I just think sometimes people grow apart. Even if they’re married.” She sipped her coffee and gazed into the flames, and Adley could see the sadness on her face as if it was written there with a Sharpie. That happy spark, that joy of life Brody’d had when she’d been seeing Paul was gone, all but extinguished, and now her sister just…was. It only added to Adley’s sadness.
