“That would be huge.”
Bella sighs. “A three-year project—five acres of land for me to show her what I can do. It would catapult my career to infinity and beyond,” she says, throwing her arms up dramatically in the air.
“How long will you be in California?” I ask.
“Nine months. Maybe a year. But since Brodie will be my boss, I get to come home whenever I want. You’re not getting rid of me, baby sis.”
She’s always thinking about me.
“So we’re celebrating with Long Islands and club soda!” Bella claps her hands together.
She’s full of joy and I want to share it with her, but my core tightens instead.
A bar means people.
Noise. Eyes. Hands.
Men.
My fingers begin to twitch, and my pulse stutters, remembering how Wess forced himself on me last month and my mother’s words that followed after it.
You wanted his attention, Lucia.
You stayed after office hours.
You gave him the wrong impression.
It’s your fault.
It’s always your fault.
Bella notices my shift in emotion and moves to stand in front of me. She places her hand on my cheek and bends to look me in the eye. She’s got at least four inches on me.
“Erin,” Bella says with quiet assurance, bringing me back to the present moment. I open my eyes and look into her empathetic ones. “You can do this.”
I let out a breath and square my shoulders. “It’s just a bar.”
“That’s right,” Bella says.
“I can do this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I can have a conversation.”
“That’s my girl.”
“I’m going.”
“Hell yeah, you are, baby sister.” Bella squeals and throws her arms around me in a tight hug.
I return her embrace and let my eyes fall shut as Bella sways us. I repeat my mantra:
I am enough.
I am in control.
I’ve come so far, and I’m not going back.
