“I drink it black,” I say. “As black as possible.”
“Oooh, my kinda gal.”
I take a sip and can practically feel my body come to life, cell by cell. “That’s good.”
“This place opened less than a year ago, but it quickly became one of my faves.”
I know this already because I have Dawn’s blog bookmarked to hate-read her posts. She has a way of taking her audience along on the journey with her, and I secretly enjoy the armchair travel every week. She’s maddeningly good at the influencer thing, even if she has impossible standards for hotels.
“Good coffee, good vibes, and good Wi-Fi,” Dawn says. “I’d rather be in my home office, but…well, this is what I’m working with.”
“They sell their beans here.”
“Oh, no, I mean with the divorce and everything. Sorry, I sort of assume everyone knows.”
“Shit, I—” I forgot about that update on her site, and sweat drips down my calves in the dry June heat. Dawn may not top my list of favorite people, but I wouldn’t wish anything bad on her. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it’s a nightmare. The fucker wants to move to LA with his new boyfriend, but he doesn’t wantmeto have our house. So for now, neither of us gets it, and I’m couch surfing with a friend who owns an angular mid-century modern sofa made of bricks.” Dawn grips her beverage with both hands and leans over the table toward me, like we’re two close girlfriends catching up. “Word of advice?” Her voice deepens. “Whoever you date, whoever you marry, whoever you fuck, make sure they adore you.”
My mind flashes, not to my ex-boyfriends, and not to Alex—who texted me only last night to say that he missed me. Instead, Max jumps to the forefront of my thoughts, like he always seems to lately. How he’s willing to beg his parents for money for this project, or how he cupped my face when he found me crying about Freddie…I’m clearly still adjusting to him being a regular presence in my life again.
“Cherry on top,” Dawn goes on, “I have to hire a new designer because my ex was the one behind my site. We were in the process of launching T-shirts and everything.”
The sheer absurdity of her comment makes me laugh, and Dawn’s face scrunches in confusion.
“Sorry, it’s…your divorce seems hellish, but you’re more worried about a clothing line.”
“They were really nice shirts. I had hats planned, too.” The corner of her mouth tilts up. “Anyway, what else am I supposed to do? Wallow over the fucker?”
This time, we both burst into laughter. I suppose Dawn is more fun than I gave her credit for. She could let her divorce destroy her, but she’s here instead, joking with me and powering through her pain. Discovering that the world keeps spinning even when your own world stops—I know what that’s like.
“Actually, I—” Overcome with compassion for her, I blurt out the words without thinking. “I have a guest room in my casita. Small, nothing fancy, pull-out couch situation.”
“Oh.” Dawn’s eyebrows jump to her hairline.
“When my mom died, people were incredibly kind to me,” I explain. Dawn and I aren’t exactly on a stay-at-each-other’s-places level of familiarity, but she could clearly use the help. “Kindness didn’t change that life was shit, but I won’t forget the generosity.”
I remember very little from those first few days. It wasn’t until someone ordered delivery for me, and my neighbors stopped byweekly with casseroles, that I realized I was barely eating. But I couldn’t stay sad. There was too much to do, so rather than sit around and dwell on her death, I focused on what could keep her alive.
“Sorry about your mom. She sounded like quite a lady.”
“She was.” I nod with a tight smile.
“And I’ll stay at my friend’s place, but I do appreciate the offer. I’m surprised, though. You never seemed to like me.”
“I-I like you perfectly fine,” I reply, too brightly.
Her mouth falls into a thin line. Damn, this woman’s good at reading people. She and Gwen can never team up. I would have no secrets.
“How close were you to begging Ms. Willow to remove me from this project?”
“I…” There’s no point in making up excuses. Something happens when your personal life falls apart the way Dawn’s did, and the way mine did two years ago—you gain X-ray vision to see through people’s bullshit. “Okay, Iwaskind of hoping I might get paired with someone else.”
Dawn snorts. “No, you were hoping no one else would volunteer so you could do this alone.”
I open my mouth, at a loss for words. Thatwouldhave been ideal.
“I’m a woman of color. I’m used to people shooting me looks and not giving me a chance. If we’re working on this, I don’t need you to like me, but you do need to respect me.”
