I look past him to the bullpen. “Everyone seems fine.”

“They’re—” He turns his head to look. “Maybe they’re fine, but the rest of us are worried about you. Even Huck.”

“Why did you tell Huck about this?” I groan.

“I didn’t. BuzzFeed did.” Not a single one of them told me that the picture made national news. I gape at him. “But that’s in the past now, Roman.” Beau draws himself upright. “The future can’t be as depressing as you’re making it out to be.”

“She’s gone. There’s nothing to do about...any of that now.”

Beau scoffs. “She’s not gone. She’s working at Little Soap Kitchen downtown.”

I look at my brother.

He’s serious.

“She stayed in town?”

“I don’t know why, but she stayed. She must be pretty into you.” He raises both hands in the air. “People tell me things, okay? I only relay them to people who need the information. And you need the information. Go talk to her.”

I wait until he’s gone, out of the bullpen, and hopefully out of the lobby.

Then I get up and go.

25

Jenny

I can feel Marjorie glaring at me.

I’ve been at Little Soap Kitchen for ten days, and I can already sense my time running out. Where’s my carefree attitude toward doing the right thing when I need it?

Not here.

“Look.” I cast a glance around for Marjorie and lo, there she is, standing behind the counter and shooting silent daggers at me with her eyes. I drag my focus back to the customer in front of me. “It would be better for my job if I sold you the soap and sent you on your merry way, but—” The poor woman standing in front of me does not need to know the whole story. “I’m trying a thing that can best be described as radical honesty. Not…total honesty.” I’ve already gone on too long, and I know it. “Some white lies make the world go ‘round.” She frowns at me, this petite woman with artfully gray hair and blue eyes that remind me of Roman’s.

“I just want to know if the soap is any good.”

I angle my body toward the front window, trying to keep my words from reaching Marjorie. “It’s not. It’s really not. I’ve tried it, and it leaves a film?” I rub my fingers together to drive the point home. “Plus, if you’re sensitive at all to fragrances, this one will be too strong.”

She drops the bar back onto the display. “Is there anything you can recommend?”

“The pure line.” I face the back of the store, pointing toward the finest corner. The door opens behind me, the brass bell chiming happily against the glass, but I don’t dare look. “It has no fragrances, no films, all-natural ingredients…”