“She can’t be that mad, then. Not if she wants to help you.”
“Yeah, well... I haven’t given her an answer yet,” I confessed.
“Why not?”
“I was foisted on her at the beginning of the year. I thought she didn’t like me.”
Sam lifted an eyebrow. “Not the sort who pretends, I would have said.”
“No, you’re right.” But how did he know? I watched him brew my tea, my mind niggling over the scene I’d interrupted. “What was she doing here?”
He foamed milk, the sound of the steam wand drowning out whatever he might have said. “She bought biscuits.”
“And...?”
He tipped the hot milk into the mug, releasing the warm scent of spices. “Will that be all?”
It wasnotall. Frustration churned my stomach. He’d shared his family with me. Why wouldn’t he share more than bits of himself?
“Sam...”
“Boots.” His eyes met mine, dancing with secrets, bright and impenetrable as the sun on the sea.
“Talk to me,” I begged.
“Nothing to say.” He set my tea on the counter. “You were telling me why you don’t want to work with Ward.”
Right. “Well, for starters, she only asked me after someone else offered.”
His mouth twisted. “Must be nice to have choices.”
“But I don’t know if she really wants me or if she’s just protecting her turf.”
“Why does that matter?”
“What if she actually thinks my writing sucks?” That I suck.An emotional and creative vampire.
“You’re giving her too much power. You don’t need her approval. She’s not your mam.”
“Obviously.” I attempted a joke. “My mother loved me.”
“If you say so.”
My breath caught. “What does that mean?” His gaze slid away. It didn’t mean anything, I told myself. He was just being... “Sam?”
“Your mother left you. Traveled for her—art, was it?—with two growing girls at home. Nothing you could do about it then. Nothing you can do to fix it now.”
I’d wanted him to talk to me. Now I wished with all my heart I’d never started this conversation.
“And nothing to do with Maeve Ward,” I said.
“Unless you’re trying to get from her what you couldn’t get from your mam.”
My mind went bright and blank. “That’s a terrible thing to say. I thought we were friends.”
“Friends tell each other the truth. You go on doing the same things over and over again, as if the ending will ever be any different. Believing if you’re nice enough or smart enough or brave enough, everybody will love you and all your wishes will come true.” His voice was light and relentless. “Well, life isn’t like that, Boots. Ward is who she is. Take her help or tell her to go to hell, that’s up to you. Just don’t expect her to care one way or the other.”
His words struck me like a harpoon, straight through the chest. For a second I couldn’t breathe. “Then why was she here today?”
