“I heard you’re heading up that hotel project south of town,” Emerson, sitting across from me, said. She was a dark-haired beauty, with flawless olive skin and green eyes.

“Yeah, we want to hear about that,” Olivia said, leaning on the table beside me, totally at ease, totally the opposite of how I felt.

The subject of my job helped though.

I answered their questions, which ranged from what the hotel was like inside to what kind of job opportunities there were to when it would be open. It didn’t take long, and only half of my seltzer, for me to begin relaxing.

The guys eventually left for the dartboards, and there was a continuous stream of people to and from our table to say hello to my table mates, who were obviously still as popular as they’d been in school. If I’d wanted to keep the evening low-profile, I’d agreed to do girls’ night with the wrong people.

I was surprised to realize I knew almost everyone once I heard their name, and it struck me how many people I’d grown up with had stayed here in Dragonfly Lake—something I’d never considered for even half a heartbeat.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad place if you didn’t have my baggage.

I really needed to figure out how to unload that baggage. I guess tonight was a step toward that, particularly if I ordered another drink, which I did when the server, an early-twenties shaggy-haired guy named Stone, came by.

My optimism and determination took a hit when Magnolia James waltzed up to our table and presented Maeve with a small wrapped box. My body went tense and my smile slipped off my face. When Emerson seemed to notice, I forced a grin for her benefit, and I could swear there was a look of understanding in her eyes. Like maybe we shared an opinion of Magnolia.

“I was hoping I’d run into you here, Maeve,” Magnolia said in a syrupy-sweet voice, and I watched the faces around the table, trying to discern whether people bought her bullshit or saw through her. “Happy birthday.”

“Oh.” Maeve looked down at the present as if she couldn’t think of what to say, which was entirely possible considering the birthday cocktails she’d been served so far. “Thanks, Magnolia.”

“Who are you here with?” Anna asked, and she seemed warm just like she always was to everyone.

Magnolia looked around the table, smiling, her makeup and hair perfect as usual. She said Olivia’s name and Emerson’s in greeting, nodded at Presley. When her gaze got to me, she said, smile still on her face, “Weird night, huh?”

“Happy night,” Olivia said cheerfully, emphatically, making me feel as if she was on my side in this unspoken years-long battle.