Page 37 of Hearts at War

Heather

I poured myself a half a glass of wine then leaned back in the one armchair that came with this cabin.

Still floating on the warm sensation that my cousin’s words made me feel, I was glad to recline and sip the last of this cheap rosé I got from the food mart on clearance. I wasn’t picky. I wasn’t choosy. And I also wasn’t a drinker. It seemed apropos though, to toast to myself after the first week of my new job.

I picked up my phone, ready to catch up on watching some shows I’d fallen off of following, but first, I cleared out my texts.

Nance: You start with Phantom Menace.

Nance: Episode I. That’s the furthest back BBY.

I blinked, holding my wine aloft. “What?”

Heather: What in the hell is BBY?

Heather: I told you, I need to tackle my Star Wars ignorance with baby steps.

“Don’t be slinging acronyms and slang at me yet...” I murmured, still smiling anyway.

It felt good to sort of have a friend. Or a friendly coworker. All my coworkers in Chicago weren’t that loyal. How could they be when David was at the offices too?

No. No thinking about him.

Nance: Before the Battle of Yavin.

Heather: Is this a religious thing?

Nance: No!

Nance: FFS. If my hubs wasn’t keeping me busy with this family reunion stuff I’m insist on you having a sleepover so I can explain it all.

My smile widened.

Heather: I’ll hold you to that.

I wasn’t sure about a sleepover. Nance seemed like a grandma. Or an aunt. Familyish sort of friend. I’d have a movie night with her one of these days.

Well, look at that. I am settling in here.

I raised the wine to my lips again but a knock on the door had me flinching and sloshing a couple drops on the armrest.

“Oh, what now?”

I narrowed my eyes as I got up, peeved because I had one guess who this nighttime visitor could be.

If that teen was at my door again... Wanting to ask me to help her break into Roarke’s place... I held back a growl of annoyance as I opened the door. “No.”

She huffed, lowering her shoulders in defeat. “I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“But I know you will. Whatever games you’re playing or crimes you intend to commit, count me out.” I wouldn’t mind an association with Nance. But I wasn’t repeating my mistake of pitying this girl again.

“I just—”

“Listen.” I slipped my phone in my sweater pocket and crossed my arms. “I don’t know who you are, but I know I will not be conned again. I’m in no mood.”

“Jeez. I just—”

“Get. Lost.” She didn’t have a problem bolting last time.