Chapter 8
Jo
It didn’t bother me that Adam hadn’t been at the Saint Security cocktail hour last night or that I hadn’t seen him since last Saturday. It didn’t. It was just… different.
And as I’d tapped away at my keyboard this morning, it’d taken a great deal of energy to keep myself from glancing up and checking to see whether he’d popped in for a coffee. Of course if he had, he would’ve just come said hi. It wasn’t like he was avoiding me. What reason would he have?
As far as I knew, we still had plans to hike tomorrow. I didn’t know how well that would go, especially after not seeing him for what felt like way too long, but it was just a friendly activity. Neither of us had any expectations for it except to do something he loved together. And ideally for me to stay alive and intact during it and not betray the full measure of my indoor cat-ness.
An afternoon call with my big sister hadn’t helped my sense of anxiety about life.
“How’s the job hunt coming? Any good leads in the city?” she’d asked, like she always did. She’d been a staunch encourager of mine during college, and then as I figured out what masters to pursue, so she was eager to see me put all this education to use.
“Uh, not really. No luck yet.”
And that was only a partial lie. I hadn’t applied or interviewed anywhere, so in this regard, it was true, I’d had no luck. But it was a big fat lie of omission because I hadn’t even attempted to obtain any.
“Seems like it’s been a while. Is Dad pressuring you to stay there and help with the store?”
She’d had the edge she got whenever she spoke of either of our parents. She didn’t dislike them, and as far as I knew, she didn’t even have an awful wound in her past that I’d somehow missed. But whenever she sensed someone was holding me back or influencing me in a way she didn’t like, she got this tone. The I’m a badass secret agent and I will destroy anyone messing with my baby sister ring in her voice.
I loved her for it, but it also made telling her the truth kind of… terrifying.
Yes, I was a grown woman and should be able to say, “Lizzy, I want to write romance novels and sell books at the shop and live in this small town forever.” But in reality, what she’d hear is, “Dad is making me stay here, and I’m too scared to say no.” Or worse, she’d think I was being selfish. She’d think less of me for choosing to do something so… so small.
This woman worked for “The State Department.” And yes, that was in quotes. Because she wasn’t exactly in the business of diplomacy as we think of it. She’d told me once years ago and sworn me to silence. I didn’t even technically know what she did, but I knew she lived internationally, worked with all kinds of different ABC agencies, and she made a difference.
She kept our country safe. Our people safe. And she was amazingly strong and independent. So much so, I often wondered if we came from the same gene pool. None of us had ever been like her—Dad had been an accountant until he’d moved here to open a book store. My mom had been a homemaker until she and my dad had separated, and then she’d gone into real estate. These were fine jobs, fine lives, but none of them were being a spy for our country, or whatever she did.
And certainly, she wasn’t out there writing romance novels about hot soldiers and the women they fell first and hard for.
I hated the part of me that felt ashamed to tell her the truth. And so, like I’d done once every other week since last summer when I’d started saying it, I repeated what I always did.
“It’s not Dad. I’m just hitting dead ends. I’m sure something will come along soon.”
And then, as usual, she’d sighed and evaded any questions I asked about her life and work, telling me she loved me with a kind of stiffness that sometimes made me chuckle and sometimes made me cry.
“Bye, Jojo. Love you.”
And I’d returned it, missing her with half of me and relieved she was so far away with the other half. “Love you, too, Lizzy.”
Imagining her discovering that every one of my books included a special thank-you to her, to “L” in the acknowledgments made my heart race—with dread or a little longing, I couldn’t tell. If she knew, though she’d never read the books, she might… I didn’t know. She might understand how much her opinion meant to me, how amazing I thought she was—how much she meant to me, even though we’d been apart for so long.
It always took a while to recover from the frustration and guilt I felt after calls with her. I loved her and respected her, and I wanted her respect in return. I dreamed of her coming to visit and sharing the truth of my life with her—of showing her those acknowledgments. And every so often, they stayed dreams. More frequently, they turned to nightmares and I’d see her face twist in disappointment, I’d hear her wondering why I’d removed myself from making a difference, and so on.
Those thoughts simply had to be shut down. I couldn’t reason my way through them because most likely, she wouldn’t say that. If anything, she’d be silently disapproving. But more likely than all of those possibilities was the reality that I hadn’t seen my sister in person in years, so worrying about her showing up on my doorstep wasn’t a real issue.
I sent a text to Adam asking what time we’d be doing our hike—a nice mental shift before I moved fully away from my messy feelings in the wake of the phone call and into a fun night with my friends.
What I needed more than anything was some solid time with my girls, good books, champagne, and snacks. Fortunately, the time had come.
Adam’s reply came through and my heart slipped.
No. Bad heart. No flipping for a simple text about the time for a friend hike.
Silver Ridge Romance Reader Book Club and its beloved members couldn’t show up and distract me soon enough.
“Are we ready to Romance?” Dove asked, skipping down the street as I opened All Booked Up’s shop door to let them in. The store had closed a few hours earlier, so I’d had plenty of time to prep things.
“We absolutely are,” Elise said, right as Catherine and Nikki pulled up. Winnie had gotten here early and was already inside, and we were only missing…
“Jess! My beloved! You have returned to us!” Dove dropped the little basket she was using as a purse and ran with arms flung wide toward Jess, whose crooked smile grew into something blinding and delighted as she received Dove’s bear hug.
“Why are we acting like you didn’t see me at the wedding?” Jess asked, ducking her chin and squeezing Dove, who was only an inch shorter than her. “For such a small person, you give a great hug.”
Dove pulled back and coughed dramatically. “Well, for someone so small, you are freakishly strong and I think you squeezed out all my stuffing.”
Jess chuckled, as did the rest of us.
“And as for you being back, this is the first book club you’ve been home for.”
Jess grinned. “I am freakishly strong, but it’s part of the gig. And… true. I’m glad to be back.” She elbowed Dove lightly in the ribs, and we all chatted loudly as we got settled in the reading room.
“Okay, I know we have a ton to catch up on, and I want to hear everything I missed, but can I just submit one thing for our agenda?” Jess asked as she snuggled into her favorite soft chair in the room.
“Please do,” I said, waving her on. We’d missed her so much these last few months—it felt like half a year since the last time she’d been able to attend a book club.
She bit her lip, excitement outright flaming in her eyes. “I just saw Josie Wade finally posted the release date for her next book. It’s next month. Can we pleeease have a release party for her?”
My smile stretched thin and my brain scrambled. Release party? What did that mean?
“What would we do? Try to invite her to come? Ohhh!” Dove clapped. “What if she did a signing at the store? You guys have done a few signings, right?” Her big blue eyes swiveled to mine with such hope.
“Uh, a few. Mostly smaller, local authors. I… I don’t know if it’s enough advanced notice.” Just tell them now. Tell them now! It’s no big deal. You can just tell them now.
I could. I could just sit down and say “Ta-da! No need to invite her because she’s already here! Weee!” But then…
Then everyone would know. They would keep the secret if I asked them to, but wouldn’t that be virtually the same thing as everyone knowing? Right now, only Adam knew. That was fully contained. My family didn’t know.
Elizabeth didn’t know. And I didn’t want her to know. And until I figured out how to accept whatever fallout happened from that, I wouldn’t be telling anyone else.
“Listen, I know you’ve got a million things to juggle with the store, especially since your dad and Jane are traveling soon. I would be happy to track down her contact info, if any even exists, and reach out. We’ll see what she says. Worst case she says no, right?” Jess said with so much hope in her voice, I couldn’t ignore it.
The idea that I had more to deal with than any one of these women was laughable, but I acquiesced because what else could I do? If I kept objecting to something that would be both exciting for our group and fun for the store, it wouldn’t make any sense. “Works for me.”
Jess fist-pumped and everyone else clapped or cheered. Honestly, it was the nerdiest little celebration I’d ever seen.
“But I wouldn’t get hopes up. It’s short notice and you never know how authors will be,” I added, as though I had so much worldly experience hosting authors for signings. As if I wasn’t the very person they wanted to meet.
The wild mix of total thrill that my closest friends loved my books and piling guilt for not telling them “I am Josie Wade” swirled in my gut. I hated the feeling, but it’d become familiar since the last book came out and we’d all started sharing our thoughts on books more purposefully. As long as my own family didn’t know, it’d feel like even more betrayal if my friends knew first. And with the way things were going, I didn’t want Elizabeth to know, not just yet, so the guilt at not telling my friends? Stuck with it, and I only had myself to blame for it.
I couldn’t accept the invitation, but I’d do everything I could as Jo to their faces and Josie behind the scenes to make them feel appreciated.
“I love this. I love it! Now Jess, tell us how you are and…” Dove’s smile slipped a touch. “How things are going at work.”
Jess sighed. “It’s fine. Right now, I’m giving him a wide berth and he’s basically pretending I don’t exist when we’re in meetings together. That’s fine by me.” She swallowed hard. “I was really mad when I left, but I’ve cooled off, I think.”
“You think?” Catherine asked, cupping her wineglass like a mug. Winnie huddled next to her with the same anticipation in her eyes.
A sad smile flitted over Jess’s face before she banished it and gave a shrug. “I’ve just realized it’s one or the other, you know? I stay here at Saint and suck it up but deal with… him, or I leave. And I’m not ready to leave for good yet.”
Nikki’s brow was furrowed, and I would bet a thousand bucks she’d be discussing this with Bruce when she got home. Winnie’s face told me she might talk with Tristan, too. Maybe I should mention it to Adam? We hadn’t really talked about his work and that might be overstepping. I’d have to feel it out next time we talked.
Elise was unusually quiet, though she had been a bit quieter lately in general. But the tenseness in her shoulders and the pained expression on her face spoke to how this news affected her, too.
My heart squeezed at the defeat in Jess’s voice. She was a fighter and she was made of steel and fire, so hearing her surrender to being miserable here made me want to scream.
“I wish you didn’t have to deal with him at all, or anything that makes you feel bad.” Dove reached over and clasped Jess’s free hand. She brought it up and kissed the back of it in such an oddly sweet way, it made Jess chuckle, which soon spread to all of us.
“You’re an odd duck, Dove Jensen.” Jess hauled her into a hug, then released her.
“Well, you are, too. We’re all kind of weirdos.” Dove beamed around the circle at each of us, and the merciful moment allowed us to ease away from the thought of Jess having to choose between staying here and happiness.
My heart practically overflowed with love for these women who’d become so special to me even as it ached with something like regret that I hadn’t shared a moment of closeness like this with my own sister in well over a decade. These friends had become my family, and in some ways, I’d lost what family I had—at least the one I’d been born with. I’d gotten adopted into an amazing one in the Saints, but that was different.
Shoving the thought away for examination another time, I raised my glass.
“To this beautiful pack of weirdos and to our support of each other through thick and thin. To the books that give us escape, and the joy we have sharing them.”
Everyone touched glasses, their faces lit with joy like mine must’ve been.
“Hear, hear! And now, let’s talk about books.”