“Yep. They still have those lead capsules.”

“That explains a lot,” Linnea said with a laugh. She gratefully took the offered glass of white wine. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to be tacky and add ice cubes. I can’t drink warm chardonnay.”

Annabelle shuddered. “I’ll put this bottle in the fridge—and pour myself a Malbec.” She worked on opening the new bottle as Linnea plopped ice cubes in her wineglass. “So, let me guess—you got laid off too?”

Linnea said with a groan, “Again. I can’t believe I’m back here.”

“At least we weren’t fired.”

“We’re not getting paid.…”

Annabelle frowned while pouring out her wine. “Jeez, I hope it’s not for too long.”

“No one knows. That’s the scariest part. It could be a while.” Linnea brought her glass to her lips. “If the aquarium gets in trouble, people will have to be let go permanently.”

Annabelle’s finely arched brows narrowed deeper and she took a long sip of wine.

“Let’s sit outside,” Linnea suggested, hoping the fresh air would lift the sudden drop in mood.

Annabelle grabbed the bottle of wine and followed her. “How are you holding up?”

“Same as you, I expect.”

Annabelle settled in the chair recently vacated by Cara. She crossed her long legs. “Not quite the same.” Leaning back in her chair she tossed out, “I’m guessing your family will help you out.”

Linnea paused to sip rather than rise to the bait, recognizing Annabelle’s knee-jerk reaction to the wealth difference between their families. “They’ll try, I’m sure,” she replied in an even tone, then sidestepped. “Seriously, are you okay, money-wise?”

Annabelle’s shoulders lowered as she stared into her glass. She exhaled loudly and shook her head. “No. I’m worried.”

“I am too. I have zero savings.”

“Savings?” Annabelle snorted. “What’s that? I was barely making rent with my extra bartending job. Thank God for catering gigs. That’s how I ate most weekends. It’s so damn expensive living in the city—hell, even near the city—that there’s no hope of putting money away. I don’t know how I’m going to make next month’s rent.”

“I’m guessing you won’t be bartending much, will you?”

“Nada. Zip. Restaurants are closed. No one is having events.”

Linnea looked at her friend’s face. Annabelle’s normally serious expression had a deeper edge bordering on desperation.

“Can you move home?” she asked.

“Good God, no. My mother’s remarried to this creep,” she said with a hint of disgust. “Who knows how long this one will last?” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t go there.”

Linnea licked her lips as a thought played in her mind. Part of her balked at the idea. But the other part, the one that made her think of Aunt Cara as inspiration, won out. In a rush, the words came pouring out.

“I have an extra room here, and Cara is giving me a break on the rent until this virus thing blows over. Seems only right to pay it forward.” She paused. “You can move in here with me if you want. You wouldn’t have to pay rent. But we’d split utilities and food. That way we’d help each other out. What do you think?”