Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Phoebe called it quits. For the best.
The unexpected text from River as Zoe left Zest made her pause in midstep. Not just because her brother chose to tell her by text rather than waiting until they saw each other again, but because of those last three words.
For the best.
The same words Erik had used when he’d ended their engagement. Things just weren’t working out. She wasn’t what he wanted. And breaking things off, he’d said, was for the best.
Zoe exhaled, the old ache pressing faintly against her ribs. She thought of her past and how easily she’d let that relationship consume her. At first, her friends in Austin had been understanding. Then concerned. Then…gone.
Erik had demanded her time, her attention, her presence. And she’d been so flattered to be his focus that she hadn’t seen how small her world had become.
He’d made last-minute plans constantly, needing her at his side for events, networking dinners, rooftop fundraisers. It hadn’t been malicious. Just…all-consuming.
And without meaning to, she’d become the girl who bailed on her plans with friends. The one who always had a reason, always said “next time.”
In the end, it was those same friends—the ones she’d pushed aside—who’d shown up after he left, carrying ice cream, wine and zero judgment.
Zoe pressed her lips together as that familiar tightness crept into her chest. The kind that came when you looked back and realized how much you hadn’t wanted to see.
But she’d grown. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
She’d learned to leave space in her life for the people who mattered. To build relationships rooted in truth, not illusion. To see her worth as something whole and independent, not a reflection of someone else’s success or spotlight.
Still, sometimes the echo returned, the hollow thud of being made to feel like an afterthought.
Like she’d never really mattered in the first place.
Zoe had never thought she and her younger brother had much in common. Too many years between them. Too many differences.
But now…River knew that echo, too.
Maybe a high school breakup didn’t carry the same weight as a broken engagement. But heartache didn’t always measure itself in years.
She stared at the screen for a beat longer, then tapped out a reply.
I’m craving ice cream. Want to meet at Scoop & Sway? My treat.
A full minute passed.
Then: CU there.
Zoe smiled, slipped her phone back into her bag and headed for her car. She couldn’t fix her brother’s heartache, but she could show up.
And this time, that was enough.
The old-fashioned bell above the door jingled as Zoe stepped into Scoop & Sway. The scent of sugar cones and toasted marshmallows wrapped around her like a hug.
At a table by the front window, River slouched over a half-melted scoop of mint chip.
After getting her own cone, she slid into the seat across from him, a scoop of peanut butter fudge in hand. “Why did you order? I told you I’d buy.”
River shrugged. “I don’t need your pity.”
Zoe tilted her head. “Who said anything about pity?”
“You did when you added, ‘I’ll buy.’”
“I was going for supportive big sister.” Her gaze searched his face. “What happened? Things seemed okay between you and Phoebe at the Grind earlier.”
“Phoebe’s hard to figure.” He picked at the melting edge of his cone with his spoon. “I didn’t think the split would be today, but I guessed it was coming.”
Zoe’s smile faded. “I’m sorry, Riv. Are you okay?”
He nodded, but his eyes stayed downcast. “Yeah. It sucks, but like I said, I’m not surprised.”
She waited.
He finally looked up. “Phoebe’s cool. Pretty, funny, great style. But…she can be mean, too. I called her on it a couple of times when she got nasty with her friends. She didn’t like that at all.”
“Is…that what led to today?” Zoe chose her words carefully. “Did you call her out again?”
“Nah.” He shook his head. “She decided I wasn’t enough for her. Not what she wanted.”
Zoe’s chest tightened. “River—”
“She said it straight out. I tried to be what she wanted, but…she did me a favor, really. I was getting tired of pretending.”
Zoe blinked. That landed harder than she expected.
“It’s probably hard for you to understand—” he began.
“I let Erik do that to me,” she said quietly.
“Let myself become the kind of woman who fit in at his parties, who said yes to last-minute plans even when I was tired or had something else going on. I kept telling myself it was just a phase. That once we were married, things would settle. But…I see now it was never going to be enough. I was never going to be enough.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the hum of the dipping cabinet and the laughter of kids in the background filling the space.
Then River glanced at her, eyes narrowing slightly. “For what it’s worth…I’m glad you’re with John now.”
Zoe nearly dropped her spoon. “I’m not with John.”
River raised an eyebrow. “You guys hang out all the time.”
“We’re working together.”
“Right,” he said slowly, dragging out the word. “All I’m saying is he’s good for you. He’s way better than that jerk Erik.”
“Hey, what do you mean?”
“Come on, Zoe. Erik was never a good guy. He was never going to come here and hang out with all your friends the way John’s willing to.”
Zoe opened her mouth, then closed it again. She hated how true that felt.
“John was Erik’s best man.”
“So what?” River’s voice gentled. “So it’s kind of messy. But that’s life. Messy. Complicated. Worth it.” He shrugged. “I liked Phoebe, you know? But I want someone who likes me for who I actually am. Not someone always hoping I’ll change.”
Zoe stared at her ice cream, which was starting to melt in spirals. “You really think John’s good for me?”
“I do. And hey,” he added with a crooked grin, “if you two do start dating, give me credit for calling it first.”
Zoe laughed, the sound catching her off guard. “Deal,” she said, then added softly, “but don’t hold your breath.”
As she left Scoop & Sway, Zoe’s phone buzzed with a message from John.
Are you free for dinner?
Zoe stared at the message for a beat longer than necessary before replying.
She almost texted, Sure. Your place or mine? But opted for something safer. Driftwood Café at seven?
His response came immediately. Sounds good. I’ll pick you up.
At six thirty, Zoe stood in front of the bathroom mirror, adjusting the sleeve of her soft navy blouse for the third time.
The color brought out her eyes—or so Brynn had once told her—and it paired well with her cream linen pants and strappy sandals.
Dressy enough for dinner at the Driftwood Café, but still casual. Professional. Safe.
This was business, after all.
John obviously wanted to go over the financials he’d been analyzing. She was glad—eager, even. Numbers didn’t lie. They didn’t leave you guessing. And she had an idea she couldn’t wait to run by him—a potential partnership with the Bayshore Hotel.
The Driftwood Café made perfect sense. Neutral ground, at the hotel. Plus, if they pitched the idea to hotel management, it wouldn’t hurt for them to be seen together, heads bent over mockups and spreadsheets.
Zoe rolled her eyes at herself and tucked her phone into her bag. She was being ridiculous. But she still picked the earrings that sparkled.
Enough. It was just dinner. Just John.
Still, when the knock came at her door, she hesitated for half a breath before answering.
And then forgot to speak altogether.
John stood there—not in his usual collared shirt and khakis, but in a slate-gray button-down that skimmed his frame a little too well, sleeves rolled just-so, paired with dark jeans and the kind of confident, easy smile that made her stomach flip.
“I hope this is okay,” he said, giving her a once-over that lingered just a second too long to be strictly professional. “You look great.”
She blinked. “You, too. I mean, of course. Shall we?”
He nodded and offered his arm, like a date might. And Zoe, with her carefully constructed plan and business agenda, hesitated for only a heartbeat before sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow.
As they headed toward the car, she told herself the flutter in her chest had more to do with the hotel pitch than the man beside her.
But the lie didn’t sit as neatly as it used to.
The ride to the Driftwood Café was short but quiet, with Zoe pretending not to notice how John’s hand lingered near the gearshift—close enough to brush her knee. When her phone buzzed with a text from Brynn, she used it as a distraction, reminding herself this wasn’t a date.
Even if it felt like one.
The Driftwood Café, tucked inside the Bayshore Hotel, exuded a coastal charm that instantly soothed.
Reclaimed wood tables and rope accents gave it a nautical touch, while soft lighting glowed like a lighthouse beacon.
Miniature sailboats lined the shelves, and a porthole mirror behind the counter reflected warm, amber tones.
Zoe had always loved this place. Tonight, she’d picked it for the business potential, not the ambience. At least, that was what she kept telling herself.
As the hostess led them to a table, John’s hand briefly touched the small of her back. Her stomach flipped.
She noticed then that he wasn’t carrying anything. No laptop bag. No folder. “No materials?”
“I thought we’d talk,” he said with a slight grin.
“Oh.” She sank into the booth, smoothing her napkin over her lap. “So…not about the Daily Grind?”
“Not just the Daily Grind,” he said, then paused. “Unless that’s all you want to talk about.”
Something unsteady fluttered in her chest. “Actually, I wanted to run an idea by you.”
That earned a smile. “Go on.”