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“My last manager didn’t like me much,” I admitted.

Siara gave me a knowing look. “Did you blow off shifts?”

I winced. “Maybe once or twice.”

“That won’t fly. Pauline is chill, but not that chill. Show up and do your job, and you’ll be all good. She’s got a huge stack of apps, so I was surprised she hired you so quickly. I think maybe she’s got the hots for the dude you came in with.”

I snorted. “Matteo? Good luck. He’s married and very happily.”

Siara shrugged. “Pauline can’t resist the forbidden fruit.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “It’s such a curse.”

I thought of Kit giving me a taste of what we might have, even a fucked-up, twisted sort of taste, and understood all too well.

Siara checked out a couple of customers, then let me try my hand at the register. When time for her break rolled around, she left it in my hands.

“Try not to break anything, new guy.”

“I’ll do my best. But new guy is not my name.”

She grinned. “My bad. Try not to break anything, J-Dog.”

I sighed, and she walked away, chuckling. Siara was going to be a pretty easy co-worker to deal with. Pauline, so far, had only checked in a couple of times. She didn’t seem too worried about ensuring I worked hard enough, the way Molly always had been.

She spent a lot of time in her office, making phone calls and tapping away on a laptop. I guessed she must deal with all the business accounts associated with owning a store.

The front doors swished open. The click of claws alerted me to a dog entering the store. I looked over, smiling at the sight of the shaggy golden retriever—only to choke on my air as wheels followed.

Dakota rolled inside, hands pushing the wheels forward, the dog’s leash looped around her wrist.

“Okay, Pogo, let’s go get your food, you greedy beast. We’ll save your uncle a trip to the store later, hm?”

Her voice was upbeat and cheerful, completely at odds with the horror crashing down on me. I gazed behind her—both eager and terrified to see Kit again—but he wasn’t there. There was only empty space as the doors swished shut.

Dakota rolled toward the checkout. “Hi, you must be new. I’m Dakota.”

“Right,” I said, voice hoarse. “Hi.”

She tilted her head, staring at me. Her gaze flicked to the nametag. “J-Dog,” she said slowly.

My heart skipped a beat. Was she going to put it together? Shit. I wasn’t supposed to interfere in her life, but how did I avoid this?

“Do you want me to get Pauline?” I asked, seizing on the only lifeline I had.

“Yeah, but…wait.” Her eyes sharpened on me. “What’s your full name?”

My heart sank. “It’s, um, Joey.”

“Joey Whittaker?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

It was a wonder, really, that this hadn’t happened before. I’d worked a number of public-facing jobs in town, and Dakota clearly got out and about. We’d never run into each other. Not until that day at the rehab center, and she hadn’t seen me then.

There was no escaping her eyes now.

“I’m sorry,” I scraped out. “For the accident and the letter and just everything. So fucking sorry. Fuck. Sorry for saying fuck.”

She gave a startled laugh. “Don’t apologize for saying fuck. This situation calls for a few fucks.”