Sam threw up her hands and paced. “I don’t know. Maybe because you haven’t been out for a drink with me in over a month and haven’t replied to any of my texts. Or maybe because I know that you’re working at least seventy hours a week. Or maybe because your heart is shattered.”

“Oh, please.” Jill shook her head and made more notes. One of those statements finally registered and she stopped writing and looked up at Sam. “Wait. How the hell do you know that I’ve been working seventy-hour weeks?”

Sam stopped pacing and crossed her arms. “Because you’re running your poor assistant ragged. They haven’t had a full weekend off since you and Reagan broke up.”

“How would you know? And why would their weekends off concern you, Sam?” Jill glared at her friend. She didn’t like where this was going. Is she really trying to get with Ash?

“Never mind that. I just know from someone, let’s call them a mutual friend, that you aren’t treating yourself very well. And we…I’m concerned.”

“Friend my ass,” Jill mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Jill got up and retrieved the bottle of wine. “I’m fine. Just leave it alone.” She opened the wine quickly and poured herself a glass, but before she could take a sip, Sam snatched it and put it out of reach. Jill threw her hands up. “Hey. What’s the point of bringing wine over if I can’t drink it?”

“You aren’t fine. I know our friendship hasn’t been the deepest over the years, but I care about you. Hell, I even love you, for crying out loud.”

Jill snorted and leaned against the island, but she didn’t offer the same sentiment to Sam even though it was true. Sam had been the only close friend she’d had in her entire life, but she still had a hard time telling her she loved her. That’s sad. No wonder I suck at relationships.

“We’re the same, you and me. Keeping everyone at arm’s length, never letting anyone in, even each other sometimes. But Jill, don’t you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Letting her in.”

Jill swallowed against the lump in her throat, tears pricking her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Then do something about it. Talk to her. Get her back.”

“No. It’s too late. She’s better off without me. Like you said, I don’t let anyone in. It’s better that way.”

Sam sighed. “You know you’re not as standoffish and cold as you want people to think you are, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“All the money, not to mention the time, you spend on all those forgotten dogs and cats at the shelter. That just proves you have a kind heart and can open it to others. Just let someone in who’s a little less furry this time.”