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Rachel swiped the back of her hand over her mouth as if she were a sailor fresh in port. “I hope you have lots of fun digging in the dirt.”

As I pretended to sip, Margaret took a long drink. “I’m going to make a huge discovery. I can feel it in my bones. I’m going to be an archaeological rock star.”

Grinning, I couldn’t help but enjoy her enthusiasm. “And we’ll say we knew you when.”

Rachel finished her beer.

As I swapped out my beer for her empty glass, the bandage from this morning’s blood sample rubbed against my skin under my shirt. “Still a bit of that bug. Take mine, and I’ll get a soda.”

“Must be serious,” Margaret said. “You never get sick.”

I caught the waitress’s attention and ordered a soda. “Bound to happen with all the customers we deal with. I’ll be fine in a day or two.” Eighteen years at the outside.

“So, you demoed the wall today?” Margaret asked.

“We did. Monday is wiring and new studs.”

Rachel smiled. “To studs.”

Margaret burst out laughing.

“Our little girl is growing up,” I said. “She’s been asking about S-E-X.”

“Really?”

Rachel shrugged as she finished another half beer. “It’s been a long, long dry spell. I mean, you try being married to a guy who’s stressing about a business while you’re chasing twin girls. Not much has been going on in Rachel’s love life for a very, very long time.”

“There’s time for love,” I said.

“Yeah, like when? I’ll be thirty-five in seven months. I’ve slept with exactly one guy in my life.” She held up her index finger as if we needed visual aids. “I want to know what it feels like to have a man touch me again before I die.”

Margaret sat back in her booth. “Okay, I take back what I said about buying you all the beer you want. I figured I was in for one, maybe two beers, but I can see you could drink me out of my life savings tonight.”

The waitress delivered my soda, and I took a long sip. My stomach lurched but didn’t buck. I’d arrived at the sweet spot in the evening when I wasn’t exhausted or sick. Most nights I turned in by nine, but tonight, with no store to open tomorrow, I could enjoy an adult bedtime.

“Did you two go over the recipe box?” Margaret asked.

“Honestly, demolishing the wall didn’t give us any time.”

“I wish I had a little time to go through it,” Margaret said. “Like a mini time capsule.”

I glanced around the bar, hoping to spot the waitress who could bring me bread to soothe my stomach. As I did, I spotted Simon Davenport by the bar. Dressed in jeans, a V-neck sweater, and expensive loafers, he appeared to be alone.

“Rachel,” I said. “Don’t look now, but Simon is at the bar.”

“Who?”

“Simon Davenport. Remember, he’s the dude who hates sweets but who has placed five big orders in the last couple of months. The dude who must have a little crush on you.”

Rachel moistened her lips. Beer had left her cheeks flushed. “Do you really think he likes me?”

Margaret glanced in his direction, studying him as if he were an artifact found at a dig. “Totally.”

Alone we were articulate woman in our thirties. Together we reverted to middle school and might as well have been standing by the hall lockers with our arms full of textbooks as we ogled the football quarterback.

“You should go over and talk to him,” Margaret said.

“Yeah,” I prodded. “I mean, you do want another beer, and it would be so much easier to get it from the bar.”

Rachel nodded. “I could get a beer from the bar.”

Margaret handed her a ten-dollar bill. “Go get a beer and say hi to the nice man.”

Rachel ran her fingers through her blond hair. “Do you really think he likes me?”

“Yes.”

A frown furrowed her brow. “How can you tell?”

“Rachel, go,” I said. “Worst-case scenario, you get a beer, say hi, and come back here.”

She nibbled her lip. “That’s not such a bad scenario.”

“No, it’s not.”

Rachel rose, swayed a little, and walked stiffly toward the bar.

“She’s not had a date since high school,” Margaret said.

“I know. But she might as well practice, or she’ll spend the rest of her life in the bakery.”

Rachel stood at the bar with her ten-dollar bill clutched in her hand. Simon leaned a fraction closer as he spoke to her. To Rachel’s credit, she looked up at him with what looked like genuine surprise.

“Our little girl is a player,” I said.

“I’m so proud.” Margaret leaned forward, staring with open interest as Simon, head slightly tilted, spoke to Rachel.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, rested her hand on her hip and then slid it into her pocket as if she didn’t know what to do with it.

She was a fluttering butterfly, whereas he stood tall and strong like a hundred-year-old oak.

Rachel needed a guy who could be fun and make her laugh.

Simon’s fun meter didn’t look like it registered high.

But he was nice, and this wasn’t a marriage or a date. It was a little practice flirtation.

Rachel took her beer from the bartender and gave him the ten. He put five back on the bar as change, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“She’s not bothering to pick up the change.” Margaret slid to the edge of the seat as if to rise. “I should get five bucks back.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Five bucks is a lot of money.” But Margaret halted, clutching the edge of the booth as if ready to sprint to get her five.

Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear and laughed. He leaned a little closer to her. It looked good. Real good.

And then a tall brunette approached Simon and slid her arm into his. He didn’t pull away. Didn’t blink. The woman was tall, slim, and wore a short silk dress skimming tanned, very well-toned thighs. Tall metallic high heels matched gold bracelets and hoop earrings.

Rachel’s smile froze on her face. She raised her beer to her lips but didn’t take a sip.

“Shit. A she-devil has staked her claim,” I said.

Simon at least had the decency to stand a little straighter. He looked like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “We can’t leave her hanging. Cover me. I’m going in.”

“What do you mean?”

She pushed to her feet and crossed toward Rachel, Simon, and the she-devil.

“Well, hey,” Margaret said as she moved to the bar beside Rachel and picked up her five. “Never seen you here before.”

Groaning, I slid out of the booth and came up behind Margaret in time to catch Rachel’s shocked expression. “Hi, Mr. Davenport.”

“Simon. Please call me Simon.”

“Right. Sure.” I looked at She-Devil. “Hi, I’m Daisy McCrae. My sisters, Margaret and Rachel.”

She-Devil’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She’d sunk her talons into Simon, and she was not going to let go. “Elizabeth Wentworth. Nice to meet you. But I know Rachel. We cheered together in high school.”

Rachel’s smile turned brittle as she smoothed her hands over worn jeans and surveyed Elizabeth’s watered-silk dress. “Elizabeth. You look great.”

Rachel and I had been the same year as Elizabeth in school, but I’d hung with the drama kids and the nerds. Rachel and Elizabeth were strictly with cheerleaders and football players.

I’d never formally met Elizabeth but had heard stories. Passive aggressive. Lots of lip gloss and hair spray. Dated the backup quarterback. “And you look, well, like you’ve been working hard.”

Simon’s gaze sparked with interest. “You two went to high school together?” he asked.

Elizabeth laughed. “Hard to believe, right? Rachel, you still work in your parents’ bakery? Gosh, she used to make the cutest cupcakes for the team. Of course, we were all on diets and couldn’t eat a bite.”

“Rachel and I both own the bakery now,” I said.

“They’ve done some catering for my company,” Simon offered. Rachel drew in a breath. I kept waiting for the perky smile guaranteed to make everyone feel as if it would be okay. Her lips flickered at the edges, but the hundred-watt smile would not fire.

“What brings you all here tonight?” Elizabeth said as she glanced beyond us to see who else was here.

“My sisters are giving me a going-away party,” Margaret said. “I’ve a job working on an archaeological dig.”

Elizabeth looked bored. “Awesome.”

Simon to his credit raised a brow. “Where?”

“Saint Mary’s County in Maryland. On the bay. Leaving tomorrow.” Her grin broadened. “Old bones rock my world.”

“Sounds like a great challenge,” Simon said.

“I’m working for Simon’s company,” Elizabeth offered. She smoothed a manicured hand over perfect hair. “Vice president of sales. So far breaking all quotas.”

“Super.” Margaret glanced at Rachel. We’d made fun of Elizabeth when we were in high school. If one of us was having a petulant moment, we were “pulling an Elizabeth.”

Rachel seemed to have forgotten. Whatever had fired when she’d first spoken to Simon was extinguished, and now she had a hurt-puppy vibe.

As I scrambled for reasons to drag Rachel away, Margaret turned and wobbled, and her beer sloshed wildly in her hands. The beer splashed up all over her, Simon, and She-Devil.

She-Devil arched back as if she’d been splashed with acid, but Simon remained calm. He reached for a napkin, She-Devil squawked, and Margaret apologized.

“I can be such a klutz,” Margaret said. “Gosh, I’m sorry.”

Gosh, I’m sorry. Margaret hadn’t said gosh or sorry in a sentence ... well, ever. She’d basically told Rachel and me in secret sister code, I drenched She-Devil.

“Hey, good seeing you two.” I hooked my arms into Rachel’s and Margaret’s. Another minute and Margaret would douse Elizabeth again, and I might be tempted to help. I pulled my sisters toward our table, and we sat. Margaret and Rachel drank heavily, and I was grateful my stomach was settled.

“What’s it like to be Elizabeth’s kind of successful?” Rachel asked. “When you were in DC, you had her kind of vibe.”

“It was great. To know you were in a groove. Yeah, great.”

“And life sucks for you now?” Rachel asked.

“Not exactly sucks . It’s different.”

Margaret studied me. “Would you go back if you could?”

In a heartbeat. “I don’t know.”

Margaret’s gaze narrowed. “Of course you know. You aren’t saying.”

“I’d go back in a snap,” Rachel said. “I wasn’t Elizabeth, but I was in a great place. Hard work and crazy hours, but I really did love my life when Mike was alive.”

Margaret sipped her beer. “I’ve lots of education and dozens of part-time jobs to look back on, but there’s no great accomplishment. I’m thirty-six and can finally hold my head up when someone asks me what I do for a living.”

I understood. I held my head high, but it was a lot of bravado these days. “I’m glad you have the job in Saint Mary’s. It was made for you.”

“Enjoy it,” Rachel said. “Savor every moment.”

Margaret frowned. “You make it sound like it’s not going to last.”

I wished I could have said otherwise, but having a company shot out from under me had changed my worldview. “I hope it lasts forever.”

Margaret held up her half-full beer mug. “A statement loaded with enthusiasm.”

Rachel shook her head. “The fact is, Margaret, it doesn’t matter how much you love your work, sometimes life dumps on you. You can fight, scream, scrape, or beg, but life doesn’t give a shit, and it takes what it wants.”

Jobs came and went, and some really were terrific, but losing family was a game changer.

Adding family also changed the game. What had Mom always said in high school? For God’s sake, whatever you do, don’t get pregnant. Damn.

“I don’t want you to leave. Crap, Margaret, we were getting in a groove,” Rachel mumbled. “I know you have to go, but I’m not going to like it.”

Margaret was silent, and I could see leaving wasn’t going to be easy.

When I’d left the bakery at seventeen, I’d been full of steam and had no intentions of looking back.

But Margaret had stayed in Alexandria and had tried to help when she could.

Yeah, she could be bitchy and grumpy, but she was loyal to the bone.

“I swear on Mom and Dad’s lives, if you stay, I’ll kill you,” I said.

Rachel finished her beer. “Ditto.”