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“Brian,” Cindy murmured, barely audible, as she stared down at the table.

Brian?

“Well, whatever his name is,” Megan continued through clenched teeth, “where the fuck is he? I mean, you left me for this…man, so why isn’t he manning up and doing what it takes to get you through the death and burial of your mother?”

Megan suddenly shut her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose. She realized she was now shaking. She hadn’t expected to have an outburst like that; she hadn’t expected to care this much about the fact that Cindy was apparently going through all this alone, without any assistance from that prick Brian. What did it matter to her?

But evidently, it did matter to her, and Megan hated that even more than she had hated the thrill which she had felt when Cindy had squeezed her hand a few moments ago. Cindy was dead to her, at least that was the narrative that had been playing in Megan’s head since January. So why did any of this matter?

All she wanted now was to go back upstairs to her room and be a hermit dork. She wanted tomorrow to hurry up and come so she could go to Carole’s funeral, say goodbye to that wonderful woman and then get back in her car to drive to Carlsbad.

When she felt calm enough to speak again without clenching her teeth, Megan opened her eyes and said, “Sorry. Um…none of my business. I didn’t mean to get hostile.”

“Brian is no longer around,” Cindy said. She was still looking down at the table.

Megan’s mouth fell open.

“Hasn’t been for a while, in fact,” Cindy continued with a mirthless chuckle. “I, um, ended things with him maybe three weeks after you and I…well, you know.” She took a deep breath. “Turns out, if you give up everything for somebody, that somebody had better be worth everything.” She looked up and met Megan’s eyes. “He wasn’t worth what I gave up,” she whispered.

Megan had no idea how to respond to this. In fact, she was starting to feel a little dizzy.

Three weeks?

Cindy had thrown away their two years together for a man she then left after three weeks? So what the fuck had their two years meant?

And why was Megan just now hearing about this? Why hadn’t Cindy told her that she had ditched Brian upon discovering that Brian wasn’t worth it?

As if reading her mind, Cindy said, “I wanted to tell you. I wanted to…run back to you and continue begging you to forgive me. But I knew you wouldn’t. Besides, I had to sort out why I did what I did before I could ever really hope you’d be able to…let me back in.”

“We can’t talk about this right now!” Megan blurted out, fresh anger threatening to burst out. This new intel meant that Cindy could go to hell and all Megan wanted to do now was run, not walk, to the safety of her room upstairs. “Your mom just died. I’m not here to rehash what happened with us. So drop it.”

Mercifully, her phone chimed.

Soooo sorry for taking so long! Typical woman (at least according to my dad) I forgot to charge my phone last night and it died. I have it on the charger now and got it up to 5 percent, just enough to send this. Thank you for letting me know ur safe!

Megan smiled. Then another text from Vanessa arrived.

BTW, I have never been fucked in my shop before! That was hot! I’m still so wet! And I’ve decided to double the price of my Americanos so expect to “pay” more the next time you want one.

Smiling, Megan re-read the message, and then read it a third time.

“Good news from someone important?” Cindy interrupted Megan’s reverie. The question was asked casually but, again, Megan knew the woman who asked it too well. She sighed.

“Nothing you need to know about,” Megan said, hoping it was direct enough to shut Cindy down from further questions.

Chapter 19

Vanessa sighed, exhausted.

But it was a happy exhaustion. It was an I-finished-another-half-marathon exhaustion or I-just-spent-all-night-fucking-a-hot-woman exhaustion. Exhaustion mixed with elation.

The reopening had been a success. Someone had even been waiting outside the door when Vanessa unlocked it at eight a.m. on Saturday, a young woman named Amy who had been a regular before the shutdown. She walked into La Vida Mocha with a laptop bag, saying “Thank God!” as she did so, promptly ordered a chai latte with coconut milk and then claimed one of the easy chairs near the window. She then set up camp. Out came the laptop, on came the headphones and she stayed there typing away, nursing her latte, until lunchtime.

Chloë apparently couldn’t wait to get back to work. Despite Vanessa telling her she should show up about an hour after opening, Chloë was there only thirty minutes after La Vida Mocha opened for the day. Vanessa didn’t mind. Chloë’s presence was a godsend, making Vanessa realize how much she had missed her. Throughout the day, her young friend was seemingly everywhere at once, and thankfully, Chloë didn’t need any refreshers on where everything was or on operating the coffee machines or the POS. She resumed her duties as if she had never left.

At noon, Vanessa used DoorDash to order lunch for herself and Chloë, each woman taking turns in the back room scarfing down their food while the other manned the front. When it was her turn for lunch, Vanessa used the time to finally scan her texts. Most of her friends had sent good luck messages, promising to come by and see how it was going. Her mom had also written, offering to come down from L.A. and spend next week in Carlsbad to help with the shop. Vanessa briefly considered it—free labor—but…ugh! Her mom was too young to die, and chances were that with Mom in her house and in the shop, a murder would occur.

Besides, there was Megan…