I turn the card so they can see. “This.”
Phoenix’s mouth curves. “Progress.”
“I hate that word,” I admit, scrunching my nose.
“Why? Because you can’t fully control it?” Nessa asks.
“I can control plenty,” I shoot back.
“Mm.” She takes a sip like she’s already won.
I pick up my glass, the elderflower soft on my tongue.
“Sam stayed last night.” Three sets of eyes snap to me.
Vanessa actually gasps. “Wait. What?”
I shrug, like my heart didn’t just pick up speed. “He wasn’t going to. He was leaving.”
“And?” Nessa asks.
“I asked him to come in.”
Mack’s hands are still on her face. “Pause. Are we mid-face mask hearing this?”
“Yes,” Vanessa says. “Do not move.”
Mack freezes, keeping the contents in place. “Okay. Continue.”
I laugh, a little breathy. “It was … good. Not perfect, familiar maybe.”
I don’t say how strange that felt. How much I missed it. I gloss over the more intimate details of the night, but fill inthe pre-made coffee and my theatrical rendition of Mrs. Reynolds feeling up Sam.
“How’s the spreadsheet update?” Phoenix asks.
“Another deposit today, we are now at…” I look at the app. “…$45,662.38.”
“Sam said he wanted us to have the good stuff for tonight. So you all can thank him for this Humboldt Fog goat cheese.”
Nessa lets out a low whistle. “Okay. Effort.”
“It doesn’t fix it,” I say quickly. “It’s not?—”
“No one said it does,” Phoenix says.
I exhale, some of the tightness in my chest easing. “It’s just … something.”
I glance down at the card again. The step, the movement. Not all the way there but not stuck either.
“I like something.” Nessa lifts her glass carefully so she doesn’t mess up her nails.
“Something is underrated.”
“To something,” Mack adds, still not moving her face.
“To Becca’s homegrown cocktail era,” Phoenix says.
I roll my eyes but lift my glass anyway. The candlelight catches it, soft and steady. “To something,” I say.
