One minute passed and then another before Fran’s patience grew short. “Addison, I know you’re probably busy, but all I need is a minute. Okay?” She waited for any sign that Addison had heard her, but when Addison didn’t so much as flinch, Fran rapped on the desktop. “Addison. Hello?”

Addison jumped, and glowering, she looked up from the contracts she’d been hunched over. “When did you get here?”

“A few minutes ago,” Fran said, and sitting a little straighter, she eyed the papers in front of Addison. “Is something wrong with the Easterbrook deal?”

“What?” Addison said, glancing at the papers. “No. Why?”

“You look worried.”

“The deal is perfect,” Addison said, pushing the papers away. “Like always.”

Fran studied Addison for a moment. “Well, it may not be the contract, but something has put those creases on your forehead. What’s going on?”

Addison sighed. “It’s nothing, Fran. I’ll be fine.”

“Look, I know we don’t always see eye to eye on things, and our friendship is…well, it’s not what it used to be, but that doesn’t mean I can’t lend an ear or a shoulder if you need it.”

Addison leaned back in her chair, rubbing her neck as she stared at the ceiling. She let out another long sigh and looked over at Fran. “It’s Joanna.”

If awards were given for keeping a straight face, Fran would have walked away with one plated in gold. She had expected something regarding a contract requiring a tweak or profits not up to snuff, or even a land purchase turning sour, but of all the possibilities that had popped into her head, Joanna hadn’t made the list. Fran had attended the funeral, and she was well aware Joanna was devastated by the loss of her father, but since when did Addison care?

“What about Joanna?” Fran asked quietly.

“It’s like she’s died.”

“Sorry?”

“I haven’t seen her since the funeral. She doesn’t come downstairs. Hell, she doesn’t even leave her room anymore.”

“And that’s a problem?”

Fran watched as Addison’s somber expression slowly began to change. Her lips flattened, and the veins in her temples began to strain against her skin, and Fran knew in an instant she either needed to retract...or retreat.

“I’m sorry,” Fran blurted. “I just mean...I thought you preferred it that way.”

“I did, but…but we’ve been eating dinner together for months,” Addison said, playing with an invisible speck of dust on her desk. “I guess I grew accustomed to all the noise she makes when she eats, and now it’s so damn bloody quiet, it’s unnerving.”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

“No, of course not,” Addison said, but as soon as she spoke the words, she let out a sigh. “Yes...yes, I do,” she said, raising her eyes.

“Then tell her.”

“What?”