Page 15

FIFTEEN

The cold air off Lake Michigan whips against my exposed cheeks. I quicken my pace, burying my face into my knit scarf. When I finally spot what I’m looking for, a coffee shop, I pull open the door of Bean There with my gloved hands. Warmth washes over me, and I let out a relieved breath.

I head to the counter for a chai latte and a blueberry muffin, then grab the only available table near the entrance. After opening my laptop, I pull up my business plan. It’s the same one that’s been sitting in my saved files for years, ignored like so many other parts of my life when my focus was on Jace.

Like I told Ryan on the beach, I knew in college what I wanted to do, but it wasn’t until I saw it firsthand that I was able to fully form my business plan: a foster-based rescue that transports pups from the South to the North, where there’s a higher demand and fewer dogs available for adoption.

The plan has been ready since then, but every time I’m about to take the next step, I find a reason to put it off. Now, as I stare at the twenty-page document, that familiar hesitation rises again.

I have nothing stopping me, yet instead of diving in, I’m still holding back. I guess there’s some truth to the saying about old dogs and new tricks. But I moved here to take a leap, to try new things, and to hopefully have a better outcome this time around. I find myself muttering another familiar motto: Just do it.

“Holy crabs, it’s cold out.” A voice rings out over the chatter in the coffee shop. Heads turn as a woman stands in the entrance, vigorously rubbing her arms and shuffling from side to side. Small puffs of air are visible as the door swings shut behind her. Unlike me, she seems completely unprepared for the freezing temperatures, her outfit better suited for fall than winter.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says to the patrons whose attention is now on her, holding her hands up in a show of innocence.

“Guessing you’re not from around here?” I raise an eyebrow, eyeing her paper-thin coat and bare hands. “Also, ‘holy crabs’? Is that new lingo I should know?”

She offers a warm, easy smile. “Ha! No, it’s mom lingo. Finding creative ways to curse is something they skip in parenting books. And yeah, I clearly underestimated the cold. Total rookie mistake.” She gestures to her coat with a dramatic flair, then curtsies playfully. “I’m Ada, by the way.”

“Hannah.” I pause, debating. “I’m kind of new to the city too… Well, I went to college here, but I just moved back.”

Is it weird to ask a stranger to have coffee with me? I can’t remember the last person I met who didn’t know me as “Jace Knolls’ girlfriend.” Meeting new people is hard in general, but making friends when you’re connected to someone in the public eye is even worse. I never knew if people liked me for me or if they were just hoping to get closer to Jace and the spotlight that followed him.

But a friend? That would be nice.

Screw it , I’m here to put myself out there.

“So, maybe this is weird, but we’re both new, and honestly, I could use a new friend. Do you want to join me?” I motion toward my table, shifting in my seat, hoping I don’t come off too awkward.

“Oh my God, yes! Isn’t making friends as an adult daunting? I wish it was as simple as it is for my nine-year-old.”

“It’s been a while since I was six, but kids get straight to the point, right? So, will you be my friend?” I joke, feeling the nervous energy slip away as she grins back at me.

“If I had paper, I’d check the box for yes because it’s not real unless you cement the friendship in crayon.” We laugh as she drops her things on the chair across from me.

She heads to the counter, grabs a coffee, and then joins me.

“So, what brought you to Chicago?” I ask, taking a page from How to Win Friends and Influence People , hoping the author is right about people loving to talk about themselves. Look at that: my non-fiction reading actually comes in handy.

“My ex-husband. We share custody of our son, so when he was offered a job here, we followed him. I didn’t love the idea of following a man I’m not even with, but I couldn’t imagine my son growing up so far from his father. So, here we are. What about you?”

“Bad breakup. I needed a fresh start, and Chicago seemed like the right place for it.”

“Oh, yep, I know how those go. What happened? Was he a cheater? One of those people who are rude to the waitstaff? Oh, did he tell your mother-in-law about your sex life, and then you had to endure a lunch with her where she tried to triage your problems like she was a sex therapist?”

I blink, trying to suppress my laughter. “Okay, I’m going to need the story on that last one, because that’s way too specific to be hypothetical.”

She dives into the story, and by the time she’s done, my stomach aches from laughing so hard. Before I know it, I’m spilling my guts too—about my breakup, my new roommate, my business plan, and how I’m now questioning myself when I should be excited to make moves.

It feels oddly cathartic, sharing my story with someone who knows nothing about me.

I conveniently leave out kiss-gate because I’m not ready to analyze that myself, let alone have anyone else weigh in. I didn’t even tell Natalie about it when we talked the other night. I also leave out the details of who my ex is and the public nature of our split, not ready to give up this connection free of preconceived notions. Right now, I’m just Hannah, without the shadow of my ex, and I want to keep it that way.

“No way! I just started working for Paws Chicago as a social media coordinator.” Ada’s eyes light up. “You should stop by, and I can introduce you to the director. I’m sure she’d help you with info on funding and connecting with like-minded people. There’s actually another opening in the department, if you’re looking for a job while you figure everything out.”

“Really? That sounds perfect. And I guess it wouldn’t hurt to learn more about the opening, just in case,” I say, but I hope that by then, I’ve mustered enough courage not to need a backup plan. “I have social media experience… I actually have a pretty big platform,” I add, feeling that familiar awkwardness creep in. Talking about being an influencer always feels strange, especially knowing how quickly people connect me to Jace. But if I want to build genuine friendships, and I do, I’m going to have to be open.

I pull my phone from my bag, open my public page, and hand it to Ada. The nerves start building as I anticipate her reaction.

She glances at the screen, her eyes widening. “Whoa, you weren’t kidding. You’ve got over two hundred thousand followers. I know you don’t want to have this platform anymore, but you’d be crazy not to use it to your advantage.” She continues scrolling. “Lots of brand partnerships… Oh, your ex is a hockey player?”

“Yeah.” I take a sip of my chai, bracing myself for the inevitable moment when this new friendship starts to crumble before it’s even begun. I wait for the shift in her demeanor, the questions that always follow, the ones that make me feel more like a gateway than a person.

“No offense, but I can tell just by these pictures that I don’t like him.”

I smile into my cup.

“Oh, someone’s calling.” Ada hands my vibrating phone back to me, pulling out her own to give me the illusion of privacy.

“Hey, Ry.”

“Hi, Sunshine. We didn’t get to talk last night, so I’m just checking in. Did you settle in okay?” His deep voice sends a shiver down my spine. It’s not from his voice; it's from the cold air creeping through the door.

“Yep, everything was perfect.” I clear my throat, trying to sound casual. “You play tomorrow, right? Gonna win two in a row?”

He lets out a sexy chuckle— wait, since when are chuckles sexy?

“Whoa, let’s not put too much pressure on me. We’re actually up against a pretty good team, so chances aren’t high.”

“C’mon, have some faith. I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“Friday morning,” he corrects. “We’ve got a flight Thursday night, so I won’t get back until late. Or early, depending on how you look at it…”

A smile tugs at my lips as he rambles. “Okay, well, I’ll see you then.”

He gives an equally awkward sign-off, and as I disconnect the call, I turn back to Ada, who’s wearing a knowing smirk. “I thought you weren’t dating the hockey player anymore?” she teases before quickly shaking her head. “Sorry, ignore me, I’m nosy. Please don’t rescind my friend card.” She brings her hands together in a playful prayer gesture.

“Oh… no. That wasn’t Jace, my ex. That was Ryan, my friend… and roommate.”

I must give something away with my tone or hesitation because Ada says, “Well, that sounds complicated.”

I adjust my beanie, realizing now that I never took it off. “It is,” I admit.

“We should commiserate over wine soon. I’m no stranger to complications.” She lets out a huff of air, then glances at her phone. “Oh shoot, I’ve got to go pick up the kiddo. Here, let me give you my number.” She quickly enters it into my phone and sends herself a text. “We should get together again soon.”

“Definitely.” I’m feeling cautiously optimistic about the day and my new life here.