Page 90 of One Good Crash

"Good," she snapped, "because you should be."

I couldn’t help but cringe. Her reaction stung, even if Ididdeserve it. Somehow, in the last twenty-four hours, I'd managed to completely up-end her life, even if I hadn't meant to.

But in my own defense, with the whole job thing, I reallyhadbeen thinking ofher. Even when it came to moving to Florida, I'd been so certain that she'd see the transition as a positive thing, not as some sort of punishment.

After all, she'd spent some of her happiest years in Hawaii while her dad had been stationed there. Plus, over the past year, she'd been talking more and more about moving someplace tropical, someplace with a beach and palm trees, too.

With growing desperation, I pointed toward the side of the road. "Look, a palm tree."

She gave the tree a sullen glance, and said nothing in reply.

I forced a smile. "And get this. You know that apartment we're on our way to see? According to Jax, it's almost right on the beach. Pretty neat, huh?"

At the next corner, Allie yanked the steering wheel to the right, sending the truck careening onto a nearby side street. She swerved to the curb and slammed on the brakes.

And then, she turned to face me.

She looked as angry as I'd ever seen her, and I fought a sudden urge to run screaming from the vehicle. But I didn't, because she was the closest thing I had to a sister and besides, after everything I'd put her through, I could surely endure the ass-chewing that was coming my way.

Sure enough, she practically yelled, "What the hell were you thinking?"

I felt myself swallow. "I, uh, was trying to make it up to you."

When her only response was a tearful shake of her head, I no longer felt like running. I felt like crying.

Somehow, I managed to say, "Honest Allie, I never would've suggested you for that job if I didn't think you'd love it." I took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's just that, well, the pay wassogood, and the job seemed so perfect, and I remembered that you were looking to make a move…"

Allie gave a sniffle, and the sound sliced through me. She never cried. But the way it looked, she was going to break down any moment now.

My own eyes had grown misty, too, and I choked back a sniffle of my own, not because of her angry words, but because I was drowning in guilt and uncertainty.

She was the best friend I'd ever had. IthoughtI knew her, and I'd been so sure the job would make her happy.

But I'd been so very wrong. Even with the best of intentions, all I'd done was make her miserable.

Blinking back tears, I said, "Listen, as far as the job, the apartment, the state, whatever, if you want to back out, I totally understand."

With an effort, I straightened in my seat. "I'll even tell Jax so you don't have to. Or Jaden or whoever. And we'll find you a job back in Nashville. I'll help. We'll pound the pavement, send out resumes, whatever, okay?"

Feeling beyond desperate now, I swallowed a giant lump in my throat. "I'm just so sorry."

Allie gave a half-laugh, half-sob. "God, will you stop saying that?"

"No. Because it's the truth. I didn't mean to mess up your life."

"You thinkthat'swhy I'm mad? Because you 'messed up my life'?"

"Well, uh, yeah," I stammered. "I mean, why else would you be mad?"

"Because," she said, "that job was supposed to be yours. The money, the perks, everything, that was foryou, not me." Her teary gaze met mine. "What the hell were you thinking?"

I blinked. "Sothat'swhy you're mad?"

"Of course that's why I'm mad. Why would you do such a thing?"

I waved away the question. "But how did you know? Jax didn't tell you, did he?"

"He didn't have to," she said. "I saw the paperwork. It hadyourname on it, not mine."