“Hello to you, too,” I reply with an edge of irritation that he’s putting his bad mood on me. I pull of tray of mini chocolate croissants from the rack and prepare them for the oven.

“That’s it?” he asks, leaning across the counter. “I waited at your house for like ten minutes.”

Shifting the croissants so they’re all angled the same way, I keep my eyes on the task at hand. “I appreciate that, but we didn’t have a plan, Dane. I’m sorry that wires got crossed. I’ll make sure to text you next time I need a ride.”

“Oh, that’s right. You have a boyfriend now, so you don’t need friends.” Low blow.

I look at him across the metal table and then rest my hands on the cold surface to help me keep my cool. “I do need friends. My friends are important to me. Amanda and I have worked out our differences, and we’re moving forward. I didn’t know you had such a problem with me having a life.”

“When I get blown off, I do.”

“Let’s be clear here. You and I haven’t hung out outside of work in a long time. Might even have been when you started dating Mia, so don’t come at me like I’m the sole person to blame for the downfall.”

Larry pushes through the door and comes to stand beside the rack. He looks at us and then says, “Get out there and start setting up the bar. Those ladies can drink.”

Dane pushes through the door with attitude, leaving Larry and me standing there alone. He asks, “You good?”

“I’m good.”

“Good.” He walks toward the door and adds, “T-minus twenty minutes.”

“I’ll be ready for whatever life throws at me.”

He pulls another tray from the rack and slides it to me. “That’s great, but will the croissants be ready in time?’

“They’ll be on the table at exactly eleven.”

“Good.”

I’m starting to think that’s the only word he’s capable of saying today. Let’s just hope today’s events go off without a hitch.

26

Lark

The conservatory is my favorite room in the country club. It’s bright and airy, especially in summer when the flowers are blooming. I’ve been running mad trying to keep these ladies’ mimosas on an endless tap, but now I need to refill their tea glasses since the food is about to be served.

I drift from one table to the next, overhearing things that aren’t meant for outsiders. Most of it I don’t even catch as my thoughts are still in bed with Harbor. We didn’t have time this morning, but I’m still craving the feel of him inside me—the stretch, the fullness, the deepest of connections with him. I even crave the ache that reminded me of him the next day.

Two women sit alone off to one side, the other guests at the table currently floating around like butterflies visiting their friends.

“She’s having to deal with her son’s antics again,” says a lady in an expensive pink suit. Everyone’s clothes look way out of my budget, but hers is detailed with pearls that are probably real.