Speakeasy (True North #5)(12)

“Who wants more pie?” Ruth Shipley calls, and nearly everyone raises a hand.

Except for May, who’s pushing crumbs around on her plate, looking sad.

I don’t get it. I really don’t. May is smart, loyal, and hot as hell. She’s obviously the most lively of the Shipley kids. Who would cheat on her?

Even though I stopped May from punching Daniela or the other woman tonight, a part of me thinks they deserved it.

I eat another piece of excellent pie, certain that Daniela had no idea what she was missing.





Chapter Four





May


When I walk into the Busy Bean five days later, Zara is behind the register.

“What wonderful thing am I smelling?” I ask in lieu of a proper greeting.

“Homemade hot pretzels,” she says. “Roderick just took them out of the oven.”

“Can I have one?” I’m practically drooling already.

“Of course. Cafe latte, too? I just made one for Lark.”

I turn around and find my friend sitting on a velvet armchair in front of a little marble table. With her shiny black hair and her golden skin, she has the casual glamour of a movie star. She’s looking out the window with a smile teasing her perfect rosebud lips.

It takes me a second to remember I’m in the middle of a conversation. But then Zara clears her throat.

“Sure!” I say quickly. “A latte would be great. Thank you!”

I pay at the register and take a sip of my latte before I make my way across the room to tell my best friend how badly I’ve fucked up my life once again.





“And then what happened?”

Lark leans forward in her chair, her expression rapt, her dark eyes wide as I weave the tale of my dramatic breakup with Daniela.

“Well, I slapped Tracy.”

“Oh my god!” Lark squeaks, her eyes shining.

“But I didn’t get to do any damage, because Alec Rossi hauled me out of the room.”

“Really?”

“True story.” If anything, my retelling underplays things. Alec didn’t just tow me away. Shock has already made the details fuzzy, but I’m pretty sure he lifted me clear off the ground. “Then Alec drove me home and helped me clear my things from the house, and I haven’t been back.”

“Sure sorry I missed this whole thing,” Zara says, passing our table with a tray of empty coffee cups. “I love a good bar brawl.” She winks and disappears into the kitchen.

“It wasn’t a brawl!” I call over my shoulder, even though I know she was only kidding.

“What I don’t get,” Lark says, stirring her latte. “Is how I had to wait five days to hear all this?”

“Hey now.” I reach down and pick up my knitting from the bag on the floor. “I wasn’t going to interrupt your romantic weekend in Florida with my sob story. And you have to admit—it’s a better tale in person.”

“True.” Lark smiles at me. “But how are you doing now—with all of five days to get over it?”

“Well, I’m okay. Embarrassed, though.” I scrutinize the scarf I’ve started knitting for my little sister, Daphne. “The crappy thing is that I have to see Daniela again next week at an alumni function. So I’m sort of bracing myself. But mostly I feel like I’m waking up from a bad dream. She and I weren’t working out. And I’m going to be fine.”

Again, I’m understating things. This has been a long and shitty five days. But I don’t want Lark worrying about me. She and I have enough baggage between us.

“Hmm,” she says, her brown eyes on me. “I’m gonna need a little more detail than that. Do you miss her? Is it weird being home again?”

“Well, sure.” I sigh. “Everything is a little grim, but not because I’m heartbroken. Breaking up with Daniela is almost a relief, because the other shoe dropped already. The bigger problem is my family treating me like a grenade with the pin pulled.”

“Why?”

“Because they’ve read lots of articles about how to be supportive of your alcoholic family member. I think they’re waiting for me to lose my shit and relapse.”

“Ah.” She frowns into her coffee. “Well that sucks.”

“It does. I spend a lot of time with a fake happy expression. Like this…” I put my teeth together in a ridiculous, plastic smile, and Lark laughs suddenly, low and throaty.

And boom. There it is—the lightning bolt of attraction I always feel when she smiles at me. My desire for her is so familiar that I’m pretty good at hiding it now. I’ve been fighting it off since freshman year of college. I’ve spent ten years trying not to notice Lark’s sparkling eyes and the high color splashed across her wide-set cheekbones.

She is so freaking beautiful that my lungs feel a little tight.

It’s not a secret, either. Lark knows. That cat has been out of its bag for a year. But we never talk about it, because I don’t want to. I know the yearning will never go away. It’s my little cross to bear.

To think if I’d loved Daniela even half as much as I love Lark. My breakup would be a real disaster.

“Has she called you?” Lark asks, as if reading my thoughts.