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I nodded. “He’s coming over later. After I meet with Dr. Benedict.”
“And Beau?”
I sighed, closing the door behind her when she came inside. “Press said he’s on his way to Napa.”
“And the girlfriend?”
“Going with him,” I practically spat.
“He’s a player. You know this,” she said like she did every single time the man’s name was mentioned.
“That will be Sorcha with breakfast,” I said when there was another knock at the door.
“There’s my two favorite lasses,” she said when I invited her in. She and I cheek-kissed, then she did the same with Jada. “My Ainsley called this morning. She’s hoping to pay a visit later in the week.”
There’d been a time when Ainsley Butler, Jada, and I considered ourselves the three musketeers. We rarely saw her after she left for Stanford to complete her undergrad degree before getting her master’s, just like I had at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo. Except I hadn’t finished. It would take me less than a month to do so, and while Press encouraged me to consider going back, I couldn’t bring myself to.
It was another topic of conversation Dr. Benedict and I covered regularly, along with talking about my abduction, Beau, and Press. In fact, our discussions about Press seemed to go on longer than the others.
While she hadn’t come right out and said it, I knew by the way she asked that she thought I was too dependent on him. “Do you have plans to see Press today?” she’d ask. I didn’t know why she bothered; the answer was always the same. Of course I had plans to see him. He visited me at Butler Ranch every day.
“What’s that look for?” Jada asked.
“Thinking about my conversation with my therapist.”
“I may be wrong, but dreading talking to Dr. Benedict doesn’t sound conducive to beneficial therapy.”
“She thinks I should ‘wean’ myself from Press.”
Jada laughed. “I think it’s the other way around, girlfriend.”
“He’s a nice man who cares about me. It’s me who she thinks is too dependent on him.” I caught a look that passed between Jada and Sorcha. “What?” I asked.
“He’s a nice man who cares about you,” Jada repeated my words back to me.
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You don’t understand.”
“I think it’s you who doesn’t understand,” said Jada. “Right, Sorcha?”
While she didn’t speak, Sorcha’s brow was raised.
“What?” I repeated, this time directly to her.
“’Tis up to you and Press to figure out what’s between you, lass. Not Jada, not me, and not Dr. Benedict.”
“There’s nothing to figure out. We’re friends.”
This time when Sorcha raised a brow, I didn’t ask why.
The followingmorning when Press called, he asked if he could come by early in the day rather than in the afternoon.
“Of course,” I told him. “You can join my mom and me for breakfast.”
He arrived thirty minutes later, which meant he had to have left Seahorse the minute our call ended.
