Chapter 4 #3
Samantha’s laughter interrupted her explanation. Feet propped on a plant stand, Samantha sat in the easy chair in the corner, where she had obviously been watching them out the front window.
“What are you doing here?” Felicity asked, checking her watch. “Bookstore opening late?”
“Well, I was enjoying the sexual tension show, but I actually came because I have some news. Also—and this is why I came by earlier—I want to know why you’ve been hiding from everyone. Quit it.”
“That was not sexual tension. It was blind hatred. And I’ve been busy.”
“Sure.” Sam smirked. “You definitely seem like there’s something you can’t see there.
How could you hate him so much already? He said he hadn’t even talked to you since taking the job at the restaurant.
For the record, that kind of hatred can easily be channeled differently.
You should’ve seen me the first time Abbott interrupted me during class in grad school.
That steam coming out of my ears became a very different kind of steamy in a matter of weeks. ”
Felicity harrumphed. “You’re just pregnant and want drama since you and your dude have been unerringly stable for over a decade. Nic is not my type.”
“Liar. With those green eyes? You know you’re in trouble. Actually, on the subject of green eyes, you know that Courtney got—”
“I’d prefer to never ever ever talk about Courtney again.” Felicity shuddered at the memory of that mortification.
Courtney was Sam’s friend from college who came and worked at the bookstore whenever she wasn’t working as a touring musician.
And Felicity was smitten for a few weeks one summer about five years ago when their time in St. Clare Circle overlapped.
After a while, Felicity had gotten bored of hints and gone over to the bookstore and blurted out, “Can I take you out to dinner. I give very thorough orgasms in case that makes a difference?” Courtney had let her down easy.
She was so sweet and nice that it made Felicity want to fall into the Mariana Trench and never be heard from again, especially when Felicity found out Sam had witnessed the entire scene.
She was long over her Courtney crush, but now she had Nic and his even more striking green eyes to contend with.
Green eyes had been ophthalmological kryptonite for Felicity Gallagher since age nineteen.
“Don’t worry. I’m over her. And yes, my very temporary period of limerence might’ve had to do with her also having green eyes, but—”
“Might? Sure.” Sam tugged Felicity’s French braid like she had when Felicity was ten and Sam was fourteen. “Based on the verbal sparring and the body language with Nic, there might be some opportunity there for some of those very thorough orgasms.”
Felicity scowled. “You’re meaner when you’re pregnant.”
Samantha smirked. “Just means I’m brewing the right kind of baby. She won’t take shit from anyone.” She rubbed a spot on her abdomen. “Speaking of not taking shit, can you come over for family dinner on Friday? Nic’s—”
“Gee golly, well, I better prep the appointment list for Maude and Ethel, since they’ll be coming in soon.” She froze as her subconscious brain assembled disparate pieces of a puzzle. “Wait, the meeting Nic was going on about was a Powell family dinner?”
“Good. Nic already talked to you about it. And yeah, the same one I’ve been inviting you to for weeks. Courtney won’t be there because she has to go out of town, so if she’s the reason…”
“Wait, Courtney’s in town?”
Samantha narrowed her eyes with confusion. “Yeah … you haven’t seen her yet? She’s been working at the bookstore for the last month. She’s living here most of the time.”
“Oh.” Another good reason to keep hiding out as much as possible.
“Jeannie didn’t tell you anything?”
Her aunt certainly didn’t tell her anything about the cancer she died of. She never told anyone else in the family either.
“Tell me about…?”
“About Courtney?”
“What about Courtney?”
Sam’s question sent another wave of guilt over Felicity. When Aunt Jeannie died it had been a couple of years since they had spoken much. That was Felicity’s fault too.
“I’ll explain if—when—you come to dinner.”
“But I don’t think I’m going to have time this week beca—”
“Felicity Gallagher.” Sam smacked her hand on the counter, shifting her voice into the kind of sharp that ate million-dollar business banking deals for breakfast. “I understand that you’re busy.
But you never leave this place. You’ve been avoiding everyone, and I want you to let me in.
” The tone softened. “We all miss Jeannie. I’m so sorry it was sudden for you—”
“I’m concentrating on saving her business. I’ve never done anything like this before.” Felicity flipped open her laptop and clicked on her calendar. “It was my aunt’s choice not to tell me she was sick. I don’t understand it, but I can’t change it.”
“Is that why you’re hiding?”
“I’m not hiding.”
Sam didn’t need to call her a liar. The lie sat in the silence between them. So obvious and glaring it didn’t even need to be refuted.
The shop door opened.
Speak of the devil.