Chapter 1 #2
She talked more about her cooking plans while I remembered my family’s dining room table slowly turning to a storage place for junk mail when we stopped having dinner together.
Mom said it reminded her too much of Dad and their old life together after they’d divorced.
After dinners together, it was vacations, gardening, seeing family—all of that fell by the wayside, because everything was tied to Dad, so she gave up on everything and pulled further and further into herself.
Her life was cut short when a semi lost control on the interstate, but she’d spent her last years in a self-imposed prison.
I’d hated it and vowed that would never be me.
I never worried it would be; I believed Spencer and I were forever.
I liked thinking of someone else when we were deciding what to have for dinner.
I felt so lucky to have met my person when we were young.
And now I sat here with an extra coffee in front of me, bitterness creeping in as if it were my first time googling “Drowning Girl” and countless versions of the video appeared, including one with my voice auto-tuned.
Zoe interrupted my trip down memory lane. “Did your brother’s hot friend show up yet? They were in the Air Force together, right?”
“Not yet, and yes, they served together. And I have no idea if he’s hot.
Cruz sent a pic this morning but it never came through—something with the connection.
I can’t believe I even agreed to meet this guy.
” I drummed my fingers again and tried to subtly scan the room to check if anyone else had noticed me.
“Cruz played the serving-his-country card to guilt me into it.”
“Yeah, damn him and his commitment to saving lives.” The dogs barked uproariously in the background as she let herself into her boss’s condo to walk them. “Do you think nudes would help him see how patriotic I am?”
I coughed, nearly choking on my drink. “Please don’t send my brother nudes.”
“But…it’s for America.” The dogs kept barking and I held the phone further away, watching a tall and imposing figure stride through the door. His hair was cropped close to the scalp in a severe buzz cut, and he pulled his sunglasses from his eyes, surveying the room.
“I think he’s here,” I whispered into the phone.
Muscles bulged from the T-shirt with an American flag stamped across the front, and he stepped purposefully toward the counter with a tight nod to the barista.
“He looks way more serious than Cruz described,” I said. Across the room, he showed no signs of searching for me. “His neck might be thicker than my thigh.”
“You’ll have to compare them side by side when his head is between your—” She laughed at my panic in trying to silence her, not bothering to finish the sentence. “You’re so easy.”
“He’s my brother’s best friend. There will be no heads between…anything.” Not that there really ever had been.
“Why not? You’re no longer attached at the hip to the Drip.”
Out of college, I got a job as a receptionist at a public relations company where Zoe was temping.
We’d hit it off immediately and kept in touch after she left—after calling out the manager for sexist behavior.
Spencer’s dad got me the job, and I didn’t want to make family brunch uncomfortable, but I’d been in awe of her power and ability to stand up and say what needed saying.
And using that same vocal confidence, she was never hesitant to tell me how boring she found my ex.
She was also my only friend who didn’t know us as a couple, which meant she was now, post-breakup, my only friend, and I’d abandoned her to move across the country.
I prepared myself to convince my brother via his friend that I was fine.
“I gotta go, Zo,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later. ”
“Hey, Siri,” I mumbled to my watch. “Set alarm for fifteen minutes.” I sucked in a breath and plastered on a smile.
It was refreshing to have someone not recognize me.
But as soon as he had his coffee, the guy did an about-face and walked out without a nod to anyone.
I wasn’t sure if I was relieved it wasn’t him or anxious that I might be stood up by this guy and have to spend more time alone in public.
Cruz: He’ll probably be late.
Willow: I don’t need a nanny. I’m really fine.
Cruz: He’s more of a friend than nanny.
Willow: A friend my brother forced into talking to me.
Cruz: Best kind of friend. I’ve vetted him already.
Cruz: He’ll be late but he’ll be there.
I flipped my phone screen down on the table where the dark roast still stood sentry.
I’d reassure Deacon I was fine, and then I’d get out of here.
Cruz was going to be gone for a few months and I didn’t need a babysitter.
I needed a magic wand to make clear what I was supposed to do now that everything I’d planned for my future—the home, the family, the partner, the security—was all gone.
And Deacon Rakes wasn’t going to be a magic wand.