She dropped the phone to her lap, blowing out a long breath. The screen returned to her favorites list, and she found herself staring at Stacia’s name. It used to be they could tell each other anything. After her kidnapping, she hadn’t wanted to drag Stacia down into the depression she faced or talk about what had happened, but it had been years now. Was she going to keep letting that one thing define all her choices, from T-shirts to which person she called when she was upset?

She lifted her phone again and chose a different name.

“Andra? What’s, uh . . . what’s going on?” The tone of Stacia’s voice was a perfect measure of how long it had been since she last called.

“Hey, I ditched work today to go clothes shopping, and to be honest, I think I suck at it. Would you . . . Do you want to come meet me?”

“Did you get bucked off on your head?” Stacia snorted. “I buy motorcycle shirts online and hand-sew my own sequins because the world is too brain-dead to realize that some girls like a little glitter along with their RPMs. What about that makes you think I’m qualified to be your fashion adviser?”

She should make a joke. A normal person would make a joke.

Andra closed her eyes and whispered, “Because you’re my friend.” Even as she said it, she hoped like hell it was still true.

“Okay, your funeral,” Stacia said. “Where are you at? And hey, if Bill busts my ass for not getting the oil changed in the Chevy today, I’m totally telling him it was your idea.”

•   •   •

LJ shot a look toward Andra’s door, jumpy as hell that Bill would choose tonight to visit his daughter. But after her frantic call this afternoon, he wasn’t about to abandon her to a dinner alone.

“And then Stacia told the clerk where she could stick her push-up bra, which is how we got kicked out of T.J. Maxx.” Andra hip-checked him out of the way of the silverware drawer, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He turned away from the door. “I thought you said it was a JC Penney.”

“No, they didn’t kick us out of the JC Penney. They asked us to keep the volume down, which might as well have been the same thing.” She whirled past him on the way to the stove.

Even though he knew she was about to scratch the nonstick coating on her pot with that metal spoon, he didn’t say a word. He was enjoying her mood way too much to puncture it. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Only one day of shopping with your bestie and you’re giving me a run for my money on who the motormouth is around here.”