“Lydia! What’s going on?”

“You’re going to love this. I certainly do.”

Sam. Marjorie’s heart rocketed into space. He’d come for her. He’d decided that his life would be an empty wasteland without her. He’d realized he honestly needed her.

“Sam?” Marjorie asked expectantly, half rising from her chair. “He’s here?” Oh please, God, she prayed, let him be here.

“Sam? Heavens no.” Lydia gave her an odd look and shook her head. “It’s Al Swanson. Bud just gave him the ax.”

“Bud fired Al Swanson? You mean…he’s leaving?”

“From the way he’s packing up his things, I’d say he can’t wait to get out of here. He’ll be gone in five minutes.”

“Oh.” Marjorie was surprised by how little elation she felt at the news. A week ago, her behavior would have rivaled her friend’s. Now all she felt was a cloying sense of disappointment that Sam hadn’t come for her. Discouraged, she reclaimed her seat.

“Apparently,” Lydia went on to explain, “one of Al’s schemes backfired on him. Bud found out about it, and Al’s out of here.”

Marjorie had known from the first that Al was his own worst enemy, and that, given enough rope, he would do himself in without any help from anyone else.

Crossing her arms, a subdued Lydia paused to study her friend. “You thought Sam had come to talk to you?”

Marjorie’s fingers tightened around the pencil she was holding; it was a miracle it didn’t snap in two. “It wouldn’t have done any good.”

“Hey, he could have withdrawn his marriage proposal. That might have settled things, don’t you think?”

Marjorie shook her head. “Lydia, please. I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Hurt too much?” her friend asked, lowering her voice into a soft, coaxing tone.

The answer was so obvious that the question didn’t require a response. Marjorie was lost without Sam, but she would get over him in time. The only question that remained was how long it would take. A lifetime, her heart told her, but she refused to listen.

—

Two days later, a cocky smile curving her lips, Lydia sauntered into Marjorie’s office, her hands clasped behind her back.

Pretending she’d been interrupted, Marjorie glanced up from the report she’d been trying to read. “You look like the cat that just swallowed the canary.”

“Really?” Lydia swayed back and forth on the balls of her feet. “I have a tasty tidbit of information, if you’re interested.”

“About Al Swanson?” The details of what had happened between the salesperson and the manager had been the favorite topic of conversation with the other staff members ever since his firing. The rumors had been flying around the dealership like combat planes, dropping bombs of speculation.