“Oh, Summer. Do you think I don’t see how hard you’re trying to love it here?” She hugged Summer again. “And I love it that it matters so much to you to be with me. But you’ve already given me nearly three weeks. I’m sure you’re dying to get out of here.”

“I have a few more days.”

“Honey.”

“No really. I’m taking a customer and a group of her friends on a day hike tomorrow.” And she was looking forward to it, she really was.

Camille smiled, though suddenly it seemed strained. “That’s lovely.” She cupped Summer’s face. “You know we’re going to be fine, you and me, when you go.”

But were they? Or would they revert back to not really knowing each other at all? “I just want you to understand why I’m leaving this time. That I’m not running anymore. That I’ll be back, really back.”

“I do.”

But was the knowing enough? Summer didn’t know that either.

Two nights later Summer was at the new Creative Interiors II, helping the last customer of the day before closing. It was her last time at the register.

She was leaving tomorrow morning.

She’d led a few hikes, she’d gone out kayaking with Chloe, and she actually almost wished she had more time to keep exploring her old haunts.

But tomorrow she’d drive to her small studio apartment in San Francisco. She had a plane ticket for two days from now, to Colorado, where she’d immerse herself in the river rafting season, and not think too much about what she’d left: her mom, her family.

Joe.

He’d come by earlier, with a copy of the fire report. He hadn’t said good-bye, and neither had she. And now she faced her last evening. Alone. She knew that everyone often hung out at Tooley’s Bar and Grill after work. Normally the bar scene was not her thing but tonight she thought she could use it. “What are you doing after work?” she asked Chloe.

Chloe’s grin said it all. “Guess.”

Summer’s gaze cut to the very gorgeous but very silent Braden on the other side of the shop, behind the counter, fingers clicking at the speed of light over his laptop keyboard. “He asked you out?”

“Does it matter who asked who?”

She thought of how she’d kissed Joe on the beach and had to admit that no, it didn’t matter who started the asking. “He’s so quiet. Do you two ever talk?”

“Maybe I’m not looking for talk.”

“Yeah.” There was something greatly unfair about Chloe getting lucky while she was not, despite her best efforts. “Maybe you could jump him another time.”

“Why?”

Because it’s my last night. But Chloe already knew that, and Summer was getting tired of pushing herself on absolutely everyone. “No real reason.”