“Nope,” Addie replied brightly. “I’ve got it all sorted, don’t worry. We’ll position the counter so it hides that corner. Rob found a scrap of that same carpeting anyway. It’ll be totally disguised.”
I adored my cousin, and one of my favorite things about her was the way she spoke about anything she was invested in. Her voice was as effervescent as her personality, like the embodiment of pink bubblegum. With pale blonde hair to my dark brown and her extra four inches in height, we didn’t look related at first glance, but she was the one who’d introduced me to pin-up style makeup and retro dresses. We were as close as siblings, without the bickering.
Or, in the case of my actual brother, without the shared religious trauma that made communication pretty much impossible.
“My mom has been talking up the store to all of her friends,” Addie continued. “You’re probably going to be swamped with middle-aged housewives right off the bat. I told her she doesn’tget commission for those sales, but she doesn’t care. She’s like a one-woman ad campaign.”
A fond smile tugged at my lips. “I hope she knows how much I appreciate her support. And yours.”
Addie winked and formed a heart with her hands. “Love you, babe.”
Growing up, Addie and Rob had been my best friends and greatest champions, even though I didn’t move to Spruce Hill for good until six months ago. My cousins and their parents, Aunt Jocelyn and Uncle Mike, kept me from floundering through tumultuous times at home when I was a kid. Even now, with the store, they were my biggest cheerleaders, always ready to come to the rescue.
Someday, I hoped to return the favor.
We ordered our sandwiches and sat at a little table in the front corner to eat them, mostly because I couldn’t stomach the thought of taking them back to the store until Rob had proven successful in his endeavors. The ammonia smell was enough to put me off food completely.
After my first bite, my gaze caught on a woman standing on the sidewalk across the street, staring at the cafe like she could see straight into my soul. She was dressed like my mother—a long denim skirt paired with a blouse that covered every inch of skin from neck to wrist—and her expression an all-too-familiar mix of righteous hellfire and condemnation.
I froze, my heart plummeting into my now-queasy stomach, until my cousin’s voice broke my concentration. When Iglanced outside again, the woman was gone. Maybe she’d just been a figment of my imagination.
Just thinking about my parents had me jumping at shadows.
“So, two weeks until the grand opening?” Addie asked around a mouthful of tuna salad.
Shaking off the weird moment, I very pointedly finished chewing before responding. “If all goes well, yes. Is that enough time to get the word out?”
“Absolutely. Eden, you’re going to knock this out of the park. I feel it in my bones. Monique’s already got two parties booked, I have at least a handful of ladies signed up for my first group meeting date on the calendar, and you know everybody who walks through that door is going to buy something. I’ve seen the stuff you ordered, it’s allhot.”
I knew all of that, but it was much more convincing hearing it out of my cousin’s mouth. “You’re right. It’ll be great.”
“And you’ll still be able to get to badass class?”
Choking on my bite of sandwich when a laugh burst out of me, I nodded. I’d started taking Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu several months ago, partly because a friend of ours had been mugged during a girls’ weekend trip to the city and partly because I needed an outlet while my dream of opening the store was still up in the air, ephemeral and just out of reach.
I’d enjoyed the four-week session so much that I kept at it, even when I had to trade working shifts at their front desk in order to afford classes.
“Yeah, but I’m taking some time off before and after we open, just until we get into a good flow. I still think you should join me at class when I go back. You’d like it.”
“I do like the idea of being as badass as you,” she mused.
For the next fifteen minutes, I let Adelaide’s chatter drift over me, knocking concerns like peed-upon carpets and profit margins straight out of my head. This was my dream, and it was finally coming true.
“How should we celebrate?” Addie asked.
My brain short-circuited as memories of that night at Comic Con flashed through my mind, image after tantalizing image, reminders of the last time I celebrated my success.
Milo’s hands on my body, his mouth against my skin, the thread of command woven through his deep voice as he drove us both to new heights the minute I gave myself completely over to him.
Then my idiotic decision to run away instead of facing the fact that I’d finally done something impetuous by approaching a stranger for a hookup—and the immediate regret that followed when the door clicked shut behind me. I’d panicked and snuck out, fighting the shame my parents had fought so hard to instill in me.
Maybe they hadn’t failed as badly as they’d thought, because the flush of reproach that coated my skin when I woke up in his arms sent nausea crawling up my throat, choking me with years of reminders that I was worth nothing in their eyes, behaving as I had.
No matter how many years I’d spent embracing my sexuality, fighting against their bullshit, it still managed to sneak past my defenses at times.
And every time, it strengthened my resolve to fight even harder in the future.
“Hello? Eden?”
