“She doesn’t own me, you know. We were all friends before any of us started dating.”
You were friends. I was just the outsider you let hang around because my stepfather’s last name looked good on business agreements.“People grow up. They drift apart. That’s normal.”
“It isn’t normal. You left without a single word to anyone. Not even your mom knew where you went—and believe me, people asked.” Michael shook his head, making Jay wonder if he’d been one of them. The thought of what her mother might have said about that night made all the warmth drain out of her. “You missed the ten-year reunion. You abandoned this place.”
“Because there was nothing left for me here!”
“Wow, thanks, Jay. I’m so glad you thought we were all nothing.” Michael glanced over his shoulder to check the lot, but Angie had already left—to get the car, Jay imagined. If there wasn’t a fight on the drive home, she’d be very surprised. “Was it me?”
“It didn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Well, then can you tell me what happened? Because I’ve been trying to understand.” He moved towards her hesitantly, lowering his outstretched hand when she just stared at it. “I want to understand. At least let me take you out for coffee. Maybe I can help.”
Jay stepped back. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“My wife’s bar, then. She invited you. You can come by when she’s working, and I’ll buy you a drink. It’s the twenty-first century, Jay. Men and women can go out as friends and have a drink or two. I thought you were a feminist.”
I’m a feminist, you know, one of those men at the gala said as he stared at her in a way that made her want to crawl out of her skin.I’ll treat you the way a manshouldtreat a woman.
She couldn’t quite manage to hide her distaste. “Jesus, Michael.”
“What? I wasn’t making a move.” He laughed nervously, his eyes shifting. “I just hate that things between us ended the way they did. I really liked you.”
“I’m sorry,” Jay said automatically.
“Yeah, I know you didn’t feel the same way. But that’s fine. You look great. You always did. I’m glad that things worked out so well for you and Nicholas. His mother’s jewelry suits you.”
The bitterness in his voice was sharp enough to sting—as if he thought she were some grasping trophy wife. He strodetowards his wife’s waiting black Solara. The windows were rolled down, so she saw her smack his shoulder when he got in, too roughly to be entirely playful. Their heads bowed together briefly and Jay could only imagine what Angie was saying.
You look amazing.She ordered an Uber one-handed, not wanting to walk back with the cake. Who said that to another woman in front of his own wife? Did he think she wouldagree?
Jay slipped gratefully into the weathered Honda Civic that pulled up to the curb. “Justine?” the driver asked, and Jay nodded, not bothering to correct her. She also pretended not to notice the woman goggling at the mansion when they pulled up at Nicholas’s house. With all those ostentatious white columns, and the paned glass windows, itwasan imposing sight, even from the street, when viewed from behind a barren driveway and row of crooked trash cans.
Frowning, she shifted the cake box to one arm and began to straighten the lids. One kept popping back up. Something beneath wouldn’t let it seal. When she peeked under the lid, she saw a rather elaborately carved wooden something. Was that a clock? The one from Nick’s office? It was still working—she could hear the ticking sounds. Why had he tossed it out?
Why does Nick do anything?
She continued up the porch, leaving the discarded clock ticking sadly away in the bin. The lazy spring breeze carried the scents of chlorine and jasmine, and a little shiver arced down her spine as she used the spare key to open the door and found herself stepping into that familiar haze of blue light that was the first thing to beckon her into this house that was not quite a home.
“I’m back!” she called out redundantly, setting the cake out on the counter. There were traces of Nick, but he wasn’t in theliving room, and the door to what had been his father’s office was wide open and obviously empty. “Nick? Are you home?”
“I’m home.” She looked away as he walked barefoot into the kitchen, busying herself with the dishes in the sink. “How was the farmers’ market?” He leaned an elbow on the counter, tilting his head to lean into her periphery. His biceps made the sleeves of his old T-shirt strain dangerously. “Did the yokels turn out in droves?”
She scrubbed harder. “You’ve never even seen a yokel. And yes, it was basically a schmaltzy who’s-who-in-Hollybrook event playacting as a country jamboree. You would have hated it. How was the interview?”
“She wasn’t a good fit.”
He sounded irritated. She couldn’t tell if it was at her. Maybe she should have let him come along, like he’d offered, but having him run into Michael and Angela would have been a disaster. Nicholas was dangerous when bored, and liked to sow chaos for his own amusement.
Setting her shoulders, she went on, “I actually ran into Michael and Angie there.”
Nicholas moved closer. Her skin prickled. “Michael, as in your ex?”
“Yes. He’s married now. They have a kid.”
He rested a hand on the counter. She could feel the warmth of his chest through the back of her thin sweater. “You sound disappointed.”
“I hadn’t really thought about it.”
