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“I figured I’d have my own place by now, so why bother.” Going to the bed, I unzip my suitcase and start taking out my clothes. “And you know very well interior design is not my strong suit.”

“Trust me, I know. I decorated all your dorm rooms.”

I manage to smile. “Thanks for putting me up.”

“Girl! I don’t mind at all. How long are you in town?”

“As long as it takes, I guess. Deacon helped me get appointments with two of his friends, Richland Wells and Lincoln Beale…”

“Um-hm, they are both fabulous. Rich works at One Dallas West, the tallest office building in the downtown area. Total asshole. Totally delish. Link is out near Fort Worth. Cowboys and horses and shit. He is also very hot.”

I’ve known William so long, I don’t even bother saying I couldn’t be less interested in how attractive they are. He’s going to give me his opinion regardless.

“Well, I’m meeting Rich tomorrow and Link the next day. Hopefully from there I’ll meet more upscale clients.”

Lifting my green knit wrap dress, I give it a shake before hanging it in the closet. “I probably should’ve left these hanging.”

“I have an iron. And there’s a dry cleaner on the corner.”

“If you’ll give me five minutes, I’ll just shower, and we can chat.”

“Take your time. I’ve got a rosé in the fridge.”

A little more than five minutes later, I’m walking out in my bright red pajama pants and sleep tee with my hair piled on my head in a bun ready to flop on the couch, drink wine, and gossip.

William takes one look at me and immediately starts fussing. “Nope, nope nope. Get out of those pajamas and into something cute. It’s your first night in town, and I’m showing you the neighborhood.”

“Oh, William, no,” I start to whine.

It’s been two weeks since Sawyer left me, and I still prefer curling up on the couch to being around happy people.

“Don’t Oh, William me.”

“But I thought we were going to drink rosé.”

“Not tonight. You’ve been through a breakup, and I can tell by that face, all you’ve done is mope. We’re going out.”

Another ten minutes, and we’re walking up Ross Avenue toward the Flora Street Pub, a trendy Mexican-style bistro operated by some Dallas celebrity chef whose name I didn’t recognize.

I’m wearing skinny jeans and a swishy maroon tank, and William ditched the striped and floral-printed chiffon cardigan and is now dressed in all black with a scarlet velvet smoking jacket on top. He’s very Tituss Burgess elegance.

We enter the pub and the hostess leads us to a red vinyl booth. I hold his arm as we cross dark wood floors and slip in beside each other. A waitress waits while he orders a bottle of Chardonnay, and once she’s gone, he turns to me with a swoosh.

“Deacon said you’re not to leave Dallas until you’re back to your old Sasha-fierce self again. Tell me what happened, so I know what I’m working with.”

“Deacon…” I roll my eyes, taking a sip of the dry, oaky Chardonnay. “He’s turning into the hero of Harristown.”

“It’s funny to imagine him falling so in love with that little hamlet in the middle of nowhere Louisiana. I would have pegged him a bonafide Dallas boy, through and through.”

William and I became friends through our art classes at Harris Tech. He and Deacon connected because they’re both from around Dallas, which means William would bum rides home whenever he could.

“He likes the small-town vibe.” Swirling my glass, I trace my fingers along the base remembering a time when that vibe drove me nuts. Now, I kind of miss it. “And all the old ladies love him there.”

“It’s Psychology 101.” William takes a sip of his wine. “He’s trying to find his mother, because Lord knows Winnie’s no saint. But enough about Deacon. Tell me what happened with you and that luscious piece of man meat.”

I exhale a wobbly breath. I’d prefer to armchair-psychoanalyze Deacon if we could skip over my tragic love story, but William would never let me get away with that.

“Sawyer said it’s over.” My throat tightens, but I swallow the tears. “Then he moved to Nashville.”