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“In the closet?”
“I don’t think so.” Heather shrugged. “It’s just not going to work.”
“Are you feeling okay? This is no not like you.”
Heather allowed herself a wry smile. “No. Not really. But it’s just the reality of the situation, and for once, I’m not going to fight it.”
“Why are we so unlucky?”
“At this rate, we’ll have to sign one of those pacts where if we’re both single by the time we’re forty…”
“Oh god.” Megan put her head in her hands.
“Relax, I’m not being serious.” This was a dramatic reaction. “I feel like I should be offended.”
Megan’s hand was still on her forehead. “No. Shit. I meant to tell you this, and then work was so busy, and I don’t know how, but… Please don’t hate me.”
“Why would I hate you?” Heather’s pulse picked up speed, her mind trying to fill in the gaps. What would have Megan this worried? Hopefully, it wasn’t anything serious, like something criminal.
“So, when I went home for Christmas, I ended up gushing about you when my parents asked about work. It was at the dinner table with all my family, and my mom completely misunderstood what I was saying and jumped to the conclusion that you were my girlfriend and not my best friend.”
Heather laughed softly. “Okay. That’s not a big deal.”
“It gets worse.” Megan ran her fingertips over her eyebrow. “I didn’t get a chance to correct her, because the topic of conversation moved on, and I didn’t want to tap my wineglass with my spoon and get everyone’s attention to set the record straight, that I am, in fact, very single. They’re all so settled and put together. My aunt’s paved the way for me. She came out when I was a kid, so I guess I should be thankful that I’m not worried about disappointing my parents or anything. My mom was so happy when she thought that you were my girlfriend.”
“Okay, but I’m still not getting what the problem is. Just tell them the next time you’re home that it didn’t work out.”
“Yeah,” Megan said with a sigh. “That’s the problem. The next time I’m home is for my parents’ vow renewal ceremony. And they think you’re coming. I’ve seen the seating chart. Your name is there. Beside mine.”
“Okay, so I play the part of your girlfriend for a weekend and then in a few weeks you tell them it didn’t work out.”
“You’d do that for me?” Megan asked, her eyes wide.
“Yeah. It’s not like I have a real girlfriend to worry about.”
“Oh my god, Heather, you have no idea. I think of it randomly, after a call from my mother or in the middle of the night, that I need to fix this problem. Either humiliate myself by coming clean or asking you to do this for me. I really didn’t want to ask, but it’s come up so fast.”
“When is the ceremony?”
“In six weeks. The end of February.”
“Then we’ll need to figure out what we’re going to wear,” Heather said as the waitress delivered their food.
12
Vanessa leaned back in her office chair, needing a break from staring at her computer screen for the last two hours. In the month since the fire, they’d only had to close for the day that Vanessa had been in New York City. She’d rushed back and got everything sorted with the fire department and the electrician, making repairs over the next few days and then arranging for fire training for all of her staff.
She had to look at the positives. No one had been hurt, and her coffee shop was now safer than ever. She’d also given the shop a new look, painting it the turquoise and grays she’d been thinking about for a while now.
Vanessa opened the next email she had to reply to when there was a knock at the door. “Come in.”
Danny, her manager, appeared, holding a brown paper bag, an oil stain forming in the bottom corner. “Special delivery,” he said with a grin.
“Thank you.” Vanessa’s stomach rumbled as she caught the whiff of garlic and what she hoped was some kind of pasta dish rather than a sub or fish. She’d recognized the new Italian restaurant’s logo as soon as Danny came in. “But you know there’s nothing else to promote you to,” she said with a smile as she cleared some space on her desk.
Danny had been with her for almost five years now, moving up from cleaner to barista to manager in the last year when her previous one left. “Oh, I didn’t order this,” he said as he left the bag down on her desk. “Gabriella stopped by. I would have sent her back here, but I knew you’d kill me.”
“Why?” Vanessa said, resisting the urge to open the bag and find out what was inside.
