“Don’t ask.” She plopped into a wooden chair near the desk. “I really thought my head would explode.”
“I’m guessing you all didn’t come to a resolution?”
“Nope.” She reached over the L-shaped desk she shared with Rachel and grabbed the thermos from her side, swallowed a large gulp. The water she’d poured that morning was still ice cold, and she took another drink. She hadn’t realized how dry her mouth was. “In my opinion, the state should pay for any damage to the road, but I don’t know the legalities and logistics of that. It’s above my pay grade.”
“Mine too.” Rachel tossed her a foil-wrapped candy. “Have some chocolate.”
“Gladly.” She caught the miniature peanut butter cup midair and unwrapped it. “Can I make an entire lunch out of these?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Hey, I had just broken up with Chris and needed comfort.” Her lips involuntarily curled upward—she could laugh about it now. “So what if I found that comfort in a bag of sugar. Every calorie was worth it. Every. Single. One.”
“Whatever happened to him?” Rachel took a candy for herself and popped it in her mouth.
“Don’t know. We talked a few times after he moved to Chicago, but then we lost touch.”
“Good riddance.”
“He wasn’t that bad. We simply wanted different things out of life.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Are you forgetting that he never missed the opportunity to insult small-town life?”
Jessa cringed. “Hindsight’s always twenty-twenty. I blocked it out while we were dating, and when I did notice, gave him a pass because hewascharming.”
“I want it known that I never said, ‘I told you so’ despite the fact I had warned you.” She ducked her head and laughed when Jessa threw a crumpled ball of foil at her.
“You just did.” Leaning back in the chair, Jessa released a round of laughter. Only true friends could tease each other about their failures without getting offended, and Rachel was one such. They’d known each other since grade school, although their friendship didn’t bloom until they played together on the volleyball team during high school. “What are you doing for lunch?”
“Brown-bagging it today.”
“Want to save it for tomorrow and join me at the diner?”
Rachel shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m trying to save money. My car needs new tires in the next month, and my bank account is in denial.”
“I can talk to the board about adding a few extra hours.”
“Neal said he’ll ask his boss for some.”
“You married a good one.” Jessa left the chair and hooked her purse over her shoulder. “Your relationship with him sets the bar high for the rest of us.”
A snicker escaped from Rachel. “Don’t tell him that. His head is big enough already.”
“Not as big as his heart for you.” Jessa smiled at her good friend and co-worker. Rachel and Neal’s relationship wasn’t perfect—nobody’s was—but they were a prime example of a couple who had married right out of high school and defied the odds. Ten years and three kids later, they were as much in love as the day they married, if not more. “Want me to bring you back anything? My treat.”
“I’m good. I have my dessert.” Rachel plucked another chocolate from the bag to emphasize her point.
“I’ll be back in a bit. Call my cell if anything comes up.” Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d skipped breakfast. She should have grabbed a cinnamon roll at the meeting.
She left her office and walked in the direction of Tippy’s Diner. Her mouth watered for a chicken salad croissant. She could taste the sweet pickles that set the sandwich above others.
“Watch out.” A disembodied voice called out to her, and a hand clutched her arm and pulled her aside in the nick of time to avoid a collision with a bicyclist. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She turned to see the owner of the vaguely familiar voice. Her pulse skipped a beat. “Landon?”
A short smile curved his mouth. “You remember me.”
“I have a knack for it.” She glanced at the man on the bike, several hundred feet away already. “Thanks for the save. I was lost in thought and didn’t see him.”
