But even as I say it, I can’t help scribbling on another sticky note and pressing it onto the wall above my desk:You’ve got this.
Cara notices and I see a familiar flash of concern in her eyes as she shifts Goldie into Ryan’s arms. “Here, Daddy’s turn,” she coos, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s round cheek. My niece gurgles, fist closing around a lock of Ryan’s hair, and Cara laughs like it’s the sweetest thing she’s ever seen. Which, really, it kind of is.
“Come on,” she says, clapping her hands together. “Let’s tackle this closet before I need to feed the baby.”
I groan but follow her to the open suitcase on my bed. She grabs a pressed white blouse and holds it up against the light. “Madeline, seriously? Did you raid a librarian’s wardrobe?”
Rolling my eyes, I snatch it from her. “It’s professional.”
“It’s boring,” Cara counters, snatching another button-up—beige this time—from the suitcase. “It screams ‘I do not like fun.’”
“That’s the point,” I say, fitting the first blouse onto the hanger and shoving it in my new closet with a little too much force. “I’m starting a new job. I want to look capable, not like I wandered in from a beach party.”
Cara sighs and starts hanging the next blouse without arguing. “Have you even been to a beach party? You always were the serious one.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I mutter.
“It’s notbad,” Cara says gently, her voice equal parts love and concern. “It’s just, I want you to have a little fun too. You’re twenty-five. You’re supposed to make a few bad decisions before yousettle down and get boring like me.”
“You?” I snort. “You and Ryan are the opposite of boring. You’re always taking Marigold to the beach and out for brunch dates, posting selfies that make everyone else’s lives seem unbearable.”
Cara laughs. “Right, until you look a little closer and realize that we’re usually tired and covered in baby spit up.” She cocks her head at me, not quite ready to let me off the hook. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? You can stay with us in Vancouver a little longer. Help with rent, I’d have babysitting on demand. You could commute to your new job; the drive wouldn’t be that bad…”
“A two-hour drive twice a day sounds like torture. Not to mention a crying baby in the next room,” I tease lightly, nudging her shoulder. “I love my sweet Goldie, but no. It’s time, Cara.”
Cara nods, but the crease between her eyebrows stays put. “I just…I don’t want you to feel like we don’t want you with us, or like you have to move out to prove something.”
“I know.” I hang another blouse, lining up the hangers with precision. “I’m just…stepping out. A fresh start. I was lucky to land this job. And it’s close enough that I can come back to Vancouver every weekend, I promise.”
“Every weekend?” she presses, sounding skeptical.
“Every weekend,” I repeat firmly. Because if driving back and forth on the highway until my car dies is what it takes to keep her from worrying herself into a frenzy, then that’s what I’ll do. Besides, there’s no way I can handle not seeing my niece at least once a week.
Behind us, Ryan chuckles, rocking a sleepy Marigold in his arms. “She’s moving to Deep Cove, Car, not to Morocco. She’s close enough that we can guilt-trip her into Sunday dinners.” He winks at my sister and then looks at me, one eyebrow raised. “So, do you know much about your new boss?”
I shrug. “Bosses. There are three Winters brothers. Four ifyou include the one who doesn’t work for the company. And to answer your question…not really. Just what everyone knows.”
Andeveryoneknows Cove.
The brand is everywhere—Instagram reels, glossy magazines, billboards downtown. Half the people I know own something from their line. I’ve scrolled through their outdoor luxury apparel website enough times to know the Winters brothers are more than just businessmen; they’re local celebrities.
“They’re sharks in the boardroom,” I admit, tugging another shirt free from my suitcase. “At least that’s what I’ve heard. Ruthless. Demanding. And…”
“Incredible to look at,” Lottie adds.
Ryan laughs. “Sounds like a lethal combination.”
“Perfect combination,” Lottie says slyly, her eyes flicking to mine. “Don’t tell me you haven’t googled them.”
I feel a heat crawl up my neck. Guilty. Of course I did. Four brothers, each drop dead gorgeous. But that’s not something I’m going to admit out loud. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Proving myself at Cove is my only focus, and I’m determined to show up, do the work, and remind myself every day that this is what I’ve been working toward all along. Too many girls my age get sidetracked by relationships and I refuse to be one of them.
“I’ve done my research,” I say primly.
Ryan smirks, but he lets it go. He has always watched out for me in a way that feels steady, like he decided a long time ago that I was part of his responsibility. He’s been more of a role model to me over the years than my own father has ever managed to be.
“Madeline is going to be fine.” He looks from my sister to me, patting little Marigold’s back. “Since when has she ever cared more about men than work?”
“Exactly.” Pushing an empty box aside, I walk over to my dresser and take a sip of the coffee Lottie had brought. “Besides,there is no way a Winters brother will be interested in me. I don’t know why we are even having this conversation.”
