“I already told you.”
“No, you told me why you wanted to be one. Not what it’s like.”
She spins the ring on her index finger, a nervous tic I’ve noticed before. “It’s . . . hard. I love helping people, but sometimes I dread going to work. I think I’m burned out. The insane hours, the people who refuse help, or worse—their bodies refuse it for them. Sometimes, after we lose someone, I can still see their face when I close my eyes at night. That’s not something nursing school can really prepare you for.”
“Jessie, if you ever need someone to talk to about it, I’m here. And you could cut back on hours, take this trip with me, and I can help with more bills around here. I really don’t mind.”
“No, you pay me a ridiculous amount in rent, and my bills aren’t the prob—” She stops before finishing, but I know what she was about to say. It’s not her bills that are the issue. It’s Dot’s. I gathered rather quickly after moving in that Jessie helps her a lot. She gathers takeout boxes and stands to take them to the trash.
I rise and follow.
Her back is to me, shoulders tense.
“I know you help Dot . . . let me help you.”
“No. And it’s none of your business.” She turns and walks away, clearly finished with this conversation. We’ve had a good day together, and I don’t want to ruin it, so I let it drop.
If she won’t let me help with bills, I’ll damn sure show her as much of this world as I can. Even if she won’t let me start with Arizona.
Chapter 16
Jessie
Islam my hands over my ears when I walk into the Plot Twist and hear a god-awful screeching noise.
“Lainey?” I call out. It’s five minutes to closing, so I thought I’d see if she has time to sit and catch up after she closes. Kacey is on the road with Knox again, so it would be nice to have some girl time.
Lainey is about the only person outside of the Harts I’ve let into my life. “Let” isn’t really the right term when she didn’t give me much of a choice, but that’s why I love her.
“Back here!” she shouts from behind the counter.
I step through the gap between counters to find her on the floor, surrounded by soaking wet towels. The coffee machine is dripping and screaming above her.
“What the hell? What can I do?” I squat next to her.
“There are more towels in the back, third shelf up.” She’s flustered. Her brunette hair looks wild and coupled with thecoffee grounds smeared across her cheek, Lainey looks like she’s mid-battle.
I dash into the back for the towels. “What happened?” I ask as we soak up the mess. Thankfully, the screaming has stopped.
“This machine has been giving me trouble. I’ve called the repair company twice, but they keep pushing back my repair appointment. I thought maybe it was something I could troubleshoot on my own, but when I turned it back on, it startedscreamingat me and dumping coffeeeverywhere.”
“You should’ve called them when it was screaming at you and put them on speaker.”
“No kidding. Being down a machine during my morning and afternoon rushes is not ideal. I’ve had more than one disgruntled customer waiting for their drinks.” She stands.
Drip, drip, drip.
She looks down to find the culprit: the hem of her yellow sundress is dripping coffee. She frowns and wrings it out.
“You know, Carson is super good at fixing things. I can call him and have him come look.” I’m already pulling out my phone.
“What about Trey? Maybe he could fix it,” she suggests.
I scoff. “Oh no. I mean, I’m sure he could fix it if he could find the right TikTok video. But I don’t want to risk it with your expensive machinery. Carson will be in and out.”
“Oh, that’s okay, you don’t have to—”
“Too late, it’s ringing.” I smile at her, forcing her to accept my help—and Carson’s, after I volun-tellhim.
