“As an English teacher, shouldn’t you be more careful about using the word ‘literally’?” I raise one arched eyebrow at her, then duck when she throws her straw wrapper at me. Now that they’ve been plied with chocolate, carbs, and caffeine, I figure I can broach the real reason I brought them here, other than abusing Harley’s free legal services. “Also, I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” Harley says.

“Fuck me,” Gemma groans.

“Okay, rude.” I tear my own straw wrapper in half and throw a wadded-up paper ball at each of them, trying not to be deterred by their reactions. “What if . . .” I pause for dramatic effect—and to gather my courage. “I didn’t look for a new job?”

They stare at me for a solid minute without saying a word, and the silence suffocates. Not just the air around us but the tiny spark of hope fluttering in my chest.

Gemma pinches the bridge of her nose. “I realize your new rent is a pittance, but you do still have to pay it, along with all of your other bills. And you’re still going to be living in New York. Shit isn’t exactly free here.”

I roll my eyes, sarcasm shielding my doubt. “Duh. So here’s what I’m thinking. I find some kind of bartending gig, preferably at a sports-bar-type place where I can show my tits and make two hundred dollars a night. I could work Fridays and Saturdays and then during the week, I’ll work on building my floral business.”

Harley chokes on her coffee. Gemma’s head tilts to the side like she’s a confused puppy.

Their reactions completely smother what was left of the hope spark, deflating my plans entirely. Plans that, admittedly, only really took shape in the last half hour or so, but plans that have always been in the back of my mind. They just seemed so out of reach and impractical that I never spent a lot of time dwelling on them because really, what’s the point of dwelling on an out-of-reach dream that can never be accomplished? And real truth be told, having faith in myself and all that self-help bullshit is just not a thing for me. Apparently with good reason, since even my best friends don’t think I can do this.

“Okay, it was a stupid idea. Forget I said anything.” I pull the lease agreement away from Harley and pretend to read through it. She’s already given me the basic rundown so I don’t have to actually read it, but it’s a good reason to not look at either of them.

Harley places her hand flat over the contract. “It’s not a stupid idea. Isn’t that the whole reason you got a business degree? So you could eventually open your own flower shop?”