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He smothered a smirk when Roxie started fidgeting with the corner of the menu. She was going to cave. Beneath the smart-ass facade, Roxie was a sucker for helping anyone in trouble.
“Fine,” she spat. “I’ll go over there. Not for you, but because I foolishly told Joe I would. If Alex and I so happen to develop a friendship, what she tells me is between me and her. Not you. Agreed?”
He gave her his sweetest smile. “Of course, darlin’. But you know you can’t keep anything from me.”
Roxie glared. “You. Are. A. Jackass.”
“Yeah, but you still love me.” He chuckled. “Let me buy you lunch.”
CHAPTERTHREE
The grandfather clock downstairs chimed six o’clock, startling Alex out of her trance. She slowly turned away from the window, shaking her head. Too much time alone. Too much time to think.
She looked around the bedroom at the antique mahogany furniture and smiled. It was the kind of room she’d once dreamed of having. Classic, fancy, and romantic. Featuring a giant four-poster bed with matching side tables, an armoire fit for a queen, and a delicate vanity with a matching mirror, anyone who’d ever fantasized about being a princess would have been thrilled to call it theirs.
Sitting at the edge of the bed was her suitcase. A single, lonely, carry-on-size suitcase. She glanced at the unzipped bag and knew its contents were generic possessions that were as foreign to her as the house she stood in. All the clothes and toiletries—even the suitcase itself—had been purchased over the past six days.
She leaned against the wall, frowning. The bedroom was a beautiful space, and it should have felt like a haven. But it was too much.
Everythingwas too much. The past two weeks...
Her chest squeezed, and she fought for air.
Inhale for four. Hold for four. Exhale for four. Hold for four. Repeat.
Her therapist’s soothing voice echoed in her mind, and the panic receded.
Slipping down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, she dropped her head to her knees, wincing as her bruised skin protested the contact. How the hell had she ended up here?
“Five years ago,” she murmured as she closed her eyes.
That’s when it had all started. She remembered every detail of that miserable winter day. She had been so excited and happy. If only she’d known that it was the day her life would go to hell. If only it hadn’t taken her the next four years to realize it.
She’d been on her way to a job interview with Mayor Downing. Her umbrella had lost its battle with the wind and flipped inside out, yanking her in the opposite direction with each gust. She’d struggled to use her briefcase as a rain shield while also juggling her purse, coffee, and renegade umbrella. With her attention elsewhere, she had run directly into him.
She’d watched in slow motion as his eyes had widened in shock and her steaming, creamy latte had spilled across the entire front of his very expensive suit. She wasn’t what anyone would call graceful. But that had been ridiculous. Even for her.
Completely mortified, she’d glanced up at the stranger, worried about what she would see. Reality had been worse than she’d feared: she’d known the man. Well, knownofhim.
The guy she’d spilled her coffee on? The mayor’s right-hand man. She’d been horrified. But to her surprise—and to her deep regret much later on—he’d laughed it off, and his tropical-blue eyes smiled at her. It had been on that sidewalk, soaked by the rain and shivering from the wind, that she’d fallen blindly—and stupidly—in love.
A loud bang sounded downstairs. Her eyes darted across the room, looking for a place to hide. The noise came again. She sprang up, back flush against the wall, and froze. Then she remembered where she was.
Her shoulder slumped, and she let out a breath. “Idiot,” she cursed herself, willing her heartbeat to return to normal.
She made her way down the stairs. As the front door and its side windows came into view, she startled at the silhouette of a woman.
Holy crap, get a grip, Nat—
She took in a deep breath. Held for four, then exhaled.Alex. You’reAlexnow.
She flipped on the porch light and cautiously cracked open the door to peek through. “Can I help you?”
Silence. A woman, arms full of grocery bags, stared at her in what looked like stunned shock. Then, “Hi! I’m Roxie.” Her voice was cheerful—overly cheerful—and she had a bright and friendly smile on her face. “Alex, right?”
She inwardly cringed. She’d employed that just-keep-smiling-and-no-one-will-notice-how-awkward-this-is tactic herself. Countless times.
Roxie rushed on, “Joe or Quinn may have mentioned I’d be by?” The woman’s smile remained in place, though she shifted awkwardly on her feet.
