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She repeated it. More firmly this time. “I’m sorry.” She reached up onto her tiptoes, pulling him down to meet her. She kissed his lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Zo…”
“I’m sorry.” She kissed him again, soft and slow.
He melted into it, wrapping his arms around her. Holding on to him, she tried to pour everything she was feeling into the motion of their lips. He didn’t want her to comfort him or to let her tell him how her heart ached for him, and that was fine. She’d make him understand like this.
Because any of her ideas about not getting invested? Not growingfeelingsfor this man?
They were out the window. She’d tossed her sense of self-preservation right along with them.
All she could do was hang on.
And wait for the crash when they all hit the ground.
Chapter Eleven
Acouple of weeks later, Zoe sat on the kitchen counter, texting with June about grabbing coffee, Clay about whether or not she could open the bar tomorrow, Lian about how she wanted to bang her head against the wall over her job search, and a group of high school friends about a time to meet up for drinks later that week—all without accidentally sending any messages to the wrong person. She snickered to herself as she sent a reaction gif to Lian. Take that, accounting firm looking for “attention to detail.”
No sooner had the thought occurred to her than her screen went blank, a call from an unknown number appearing over her fifteen messaging threads.
Her first impulse was to ignore it—she’d talked to quite enough people excited to offer her a free time-share or help her with a problem at the social security agency. But one of the worst things about being on a job hunt was having to answer every call.
Bracing for the worst, she tucked her hair out of the way and brought the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
A male voice replied, “Good morning. Is this Zoe Leung?”
She sat up straighter. “It is.”
“Hi, I’m Brad Sullivan from Pinnacle Accounting, following up on a résumé we received.”
“Oh, hi!” She scrambled down off the counter and over to her makeshift office set up on the end of the dining room table. Pinnacle, Pinnacle—oh, right. It was a firm in Atlanta she’d applied to last week.
“I was hoping to talk to you about your interest in the position. Do you have a few minutes?”
She blinked about fifty-seven times. “Of course.”
“Great.” With that, he launched into a quick overview of the job she’d applied for as well as a series of questions about her experience and training, which she somehow or other managed to string together coherent answers to.
Slipping back into the accounting persona she’d honed during her coursework and internship was harder than it used to be. Once upon a time, it had felt like a second skin. Now it felt like a wet suit that was three sizes too small.
“All right,” Brad said, “sounds to me like you’re an excellent candidate. Let me just talk to a few people and we’ll get you set up for an interview with the rest of the team.”
It was a good thing the chair she was sitting on had a back, because otherwise she might have tipped right out of it. “Oh wow, okay, great.”
“Just one last question—this job does require you to be on-site in our Buckhead office. Looks like you’re in North Carolina right now, but I’m assuming you’re prepared to relocate?”
“Yes,” she said, but as she did, a stone lodged in her throat.
“Perfect.” He rattled off a few more details, and they said their goodbyes.
The whole while, the tightness in her windpipe grew and grew.
Atlanta was a four-hour drive from here. A few months ago, she might not have cared. She’d lived away from home when she’d gone to college. She’d always assumed she’d have to leave again to get a decent job that was in her field.
But her time back here in Blue Cedar Falls had changed her perspective.
She liked being home. She liked seeing Han all the time and being able to meet up with Lian now and then. She liked Clay and June and working at the bar. She loved getting to spend time with Arthur and helping out at Harvest Home.
