Page 87 of Call It Serendipity

“Hello?”

“Jake, Lucy is too busy for a booty call—” she shouts at the same time the voice on the line says, “Don’t talk about doing my brother!”

“Taylor?” I ask quickly, waving a hand at Claire whose eyes have widened. I think I catch her whisper awkward timing with a smirk. “How’s it going?”

“Apparently not as good as things in Ellicottville.” She laughs. “I was just calling to say I’m so excited to come to dinner tomorrow. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course.” I lean against the wall and twirl the phone cord around my index finger. “We miss you.”

“Honestly, I kind of miss it there too. Just please don’t tell my brother he was right.”

“Never,” I promise solemnly.

“Oh, but how casual is this Friendsgiving? Can I bring someone?”

“A date?”

She laughs. “Gosh, no. He’s like a second brother to me.”

“Sure, the more the merrier.”

“Thanks,” Taylor chirps happily. “Anything I can contribute to dinner?”

“Have anything you love to cook?”

“No.” She laughs again. “But I can bring the wine.”

“Deal.”

“How are the animals there?” she asks, a hint of longing in her tone.

“They’re good, it’s quiet right now after the wave of adoptions at the harvest event. The last puppy went home yesterday actually.”

“And Luna?”

“Maybe you can swing by and see her while you’re in town? You could stay, unless you have something in the city to get back to?”

“I do, actually, an interview at a shelter here.”

“Taylor! That is awesome.”

We spend another minute chatting about how she can prepare for the interview, then end the call, effectively dashing any hopes of getting started on sweet potatoes before Friends. Not that I mind, I really have missed Taylor.

In the meantime, Claire has put foil over the casserole dish and dropped it in the fridge, instead pulling out the cold pasta salad from the deli. I grab two forks and nod when she holds it up in question.

For a second, that familiar pang hits me once more. The one that’s been burrowed under my ribs since she announced she was leaving. We’re so in sync, I wonder if I’ll ever have this type of routine with anyone ever again.

But then Jake’s warm brown eyes and floppy hair and perfectly crooked smile flashes into my mind. And I think maybe I can after all.

As long as he doesn’t leave town.

The pang returns for a whole new reason, and I force it away by remembering his words from the other night, when we discussed his losing the bid.

I’d still have a reason to be here.

God, I hope it will be reason enough.

“What are we thinking for drinks? Maybe—” Claire starts as the phone rings again.