There were a lot of people who would have been pissed about the way Carrie had split right before their big contract came through. But Zoe had known Carrie since they were in grammar school and she understood Carrie's problem with follow-through. She'd watched Carrie start and abandon a dog walking service, a vintage clothing store—this was with another, less understanding partner—and a brief, horrific career as a personal assistant. Now Zoe eased herself onto one of the stools that flanked the work-table. “I'm serious,” she said. “Would you like to come back?”

For a moment it sounded wonderful. For the last year, most of Carrie's time, to say nothing of her available brain space, had been spent caring for her mother. Rose's doctors had admitted early on that there wasn't anything they could do for her, and faced with that reality, Carrie had set out to make sure her mother's death was a “good” one—even though she wasn't sure she believed there was such a thing. Rose had stayed in her own apartment for as long as the medical professionals would allow it, because that was what she had wanted. Only her last two weeks were spent in the hospital. The ordeal had been so absorbing that once it was over, Carrie had found herself with endless hours she couldn't fill. And she'd never felt so lost in her life. If she went back into partnership with Zoe, she'd have work, and a place to go every day, and … And after two weeks she knew she'd be begging to get out again.

Something ragged and painful started growing in Carrie's chest. “The business is big now. It would be too expensive for me to get back in,” she said.

“You'd pay what I did when I bought you out.”

The ragged something moved up into her throat. “You're being too nice to me,” Carrie mumbled. And she wanted Zoe to please, please stop. Because she couldn't take nice right now. Nasty she could handle, but nice was going to make her lose it.

“Why the hell would you want to work with me again?” she demanded belligerently. “I've messed up everything I've ever tried. I washed out of college; I didn't make it through six months of culinary school.”

“But you came up with a great recipe for basil truffles—”

“I've had God knows how many jobs and I've quit every one of them. This candy thing is the third business I've tried and dumped. I couldn't even hang in with Howie and he's got to be the sweetest man in the world. I am a complete and total screwup, and …” she stopped herself. “And why aren't you all over me right now?”

“Why would I do that?”