Page 34

“It wasn’t, Reese. Neither of us are looking for that.”

She gave me a small smile and my stomach twisted. I suddenly wished I hadn’t said anything to her. Because she was right—it sounded like a date.

“Honest,” I said, drying the dish in my hand so hard I thought I might be wearing the enamel off.

She hesitated for a moment, running her soapy sponge over a cup. “Mich, why are you so adamant about not dating again?”

“Because I don’t want to date Will.” The answer came quick. Too quick.

“Why not?”

I frowned. Was it because he’d made his own stance on relationships clear? Partly. But that wasn’t all of it.

Because you’re scared.

No.

It was because I couldn’t feel hopeful about anyone. I’d tried with Steve, and it hadn’t worked. And for some reason, I didn’t want to try that with Will. I knew he wasn’t Steve. I never felt myself constantly thinking about Steve the way I did with Will. Steve didn’t challenge me the way Will did.

But Joe had.

And I couldn’t replace Joe.

“Reese, I just don’t, okay? I’m happy where I am with the girls—except for trying to sort the blog out—and I don’t want to mess that up. Plus, it’s just too complicated.”

That part was true too.

“The girls were so confused when I told them Steve and I were getting married… and then that we weren’t. It’s just easier this way. Maybe someday, when I’m an old lady in a retirement home and the girls are grown—maybe then I’ll consider dating again.”

Reese laughed, shaking her head.

“Besides,” I said, “Right now I need to focus on the blog. I want to do more than just struggle to get by. I want to feel comfortable financially.”

“I do get that. Seriously, it’s the only reason I’m sticking it out at Gastronomique—it’s by far the best paying serving gig this side of NYC.”

I was relieved the discussion about Will was over. Relieved I didn’t have to justify my convictions or my feelings.

“These new owners are not what I signed up for,” Reese said, handing me the last dish and draining the sink. “They never want me to miss a shift, then when Idohave a night off, they expect me to drop everything to come in within minutes of calling.”

“Reese,” I said, pouring us the last of the coffee. I sat down at my kitchen table while Reese leaned up against the counter, cupping her mug.

“I know you keep saying you want to do something new, but you shouldn’t hold yourself hostage by a dream that might…”

She stiffened.

I wasn’t going to say might never happen. I wasn’t. But I was thinking it. Reese dreamed of singing. But she wouldn’t sing even for me.

“…that might take a while?” I finished lamely.

“I’d be letting myself down,” she said, her voice sounding kind of pinched. She took a sip of coffee, not looking at me.

“I just want you to be happy,” I said softly. “I don’t think you’d be betraying yourself by looking somewhere else.”

“You sound like Mom.”

I sighed, lowering my mug onto the table. “I’m sorry.”

“Anyway. It doesn’t matter. The job isn’t that bad. Besides, guess who I saw last night?”