Sherry grinned. “Well, she’s not so far off there.”

Madison didn’t smile.

What was going on with her tonight?

“As long as she believes we’re together, she at least thinks I’m settling down. That’s a start, I guess.”

“What I don’t get is why she would think I’m just after your money.”

“It’s not like you were swimming in money before you met me. But I think mostly it’s because she can’t imagine that anybody could develop real feelings for me and vice versa. I’m pretty sure she thinks that from my side it’s all about sex.”

She couldn’t deny that Madison’s motive made sense when you were Mrs. Fielding, but… “Why would she think that I couldn’t have real feelings for you?”

“I guess she knows me too well.”

A lump formed in Sherry’s throat at Madison’s implication. “You don’t seriously think that nobody could love you for the person you are, do you?”

Madison rolled onto her back too, shaking the bed again, and stared at the ceiling. For a long time, she said nothing. Sherry thought that she had fallen asleep until Madison said, “Let’s be honest. I’m not really a lovable person.” She rolled away from Sherry. “We should try to sleep.”

A part of her wanted to tell Madison that she was lovable, that she was changing, and that Sherry would probably miss her when this ended. But her mouth wouldn’t open to say it. Frustrated and confused, she turned away too and pulled the sheet up to her chin. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

“Sleep well, Madison.”

“You too.”

For probably the hundredth time, Madison’s knife slipped off the potato she was chopping, almost cutting her in the process. Why the heck had she come up with the idea of helping Rita Mae in the kitchen?

You know exactly why. You were bored as hell, sitting on the couch flipping through crap on TV.

In the past, it had never gotten boring. And ironically, now that she had a job, boredom was an almost constant companion. At least whenever Danielle’s working schedule gave her time off while Sherry was working. Maybe she should call Phil.

No, when they’d talked the last time, he’d said that he would call her back, and he hadn’t even texted her all these weeks. She didn’t want to chase him, but maybe she should—

Rita Mae peeked over her shoulder. “One potato more and we’ll have enough for Jake’s plate.”

Usually, Madison would have told Rita Mae off, but at least she gave her something to do. Even if it was just peeling and cutting potatoes. “I really wouldn’t mind a few tips, you know?”