The Last Boyfriend

April, so a jacket’s smart.”

She turned to study herself in the triple mirrors. “A really pretty green—that brings out the green in my eyes. And with the right shoes . . . It’s not romantic.”

“No, it’s not. It’s a smart suit,” Hope admitted. “And it looks good on you. But it’s not your dress, Clare.”

“I admit defeat. Let me try that blue. It’s a pretty, quiet color, and it has nice lines.”

Avery set down her water, rose from the plush little love seat to circle after Clare made the change. “Miles better. The color’s great with your hair.”

“I love the flirty hem, the little bustle in the back. I could work with this,” Clare considered. “Shoes with a little sparkle maybe.”

“It didn’t make you glow.” Hope shook her head. “I think when you put on the one, it’ll make you glow. But it is wonderful on you. It makes your waist look so tiny, and shows off your legs. How about we put it in Maybe.”

“That works. We’ll have a No and a Maybe.”

She tried on another in a pale, dusty gold that immediately earned three thumbs down.

“Now the pink.” Avery narrowed her eyes at Clare’s expression. “We had a deal.”

“All right, okay, but pink’s going to be too much. Plus, it’s strapless, and I don’t want strapless.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” was Avery’s opinion as she zipped Clare up.

“I’m not trying to be difficult, it’s just not . . . Oh.” She stared at her reflection.

And she glowed.

“Clare.” Studying the bride-to-be, Hope let out a sigh. “You look amazing. The color’s fabulous against your skin. And that hemline—it’s flattering and it’s romantic—and it’s fun.”

“Do the turn,” Avery ordered. “Oh boy, look how it just floats, and the back, the little crisscrossing—quietly sexy. It’s got just a hint of a sheen. Just enough.”

“It’s romantic, and it’s beautiful. And it’s mine. No Maybe on this one. I’m marrying Beckett Montgomery in this dress.”

“You need to see it with shoes—even if they aren’t the perfect shoes.” Hope dashed for the door. “Wait.”

“Do the turn again,” Avery requested.

Clare laughed, and this time did a spin. “It feels wonderful on me. You were right.”

“I love when that happens.”

“I’ll want my hair up, don’t you think?” Experimenting, Clare scooped it up and back with her hands. “No headpiece. Just a clip with some sparkle.”

“You look so happy.”

“I am, so, so happy. I want to do this for you one day, you and Hope. I want to shop for your wedding dresses with you, and know you’re as happy as I am in this moment.”

“I’d like that.”

At moments like this, Avery believed it could happen. She’d know that joy, have that faith, take that leap.

She turned to get her phone. “Let me take a picture of you in it. We can send it to your mom and to Justine.”

“You’re right. They should see.”

“Front and back.” Avery framed in. As she sent the pictures, Hope and the clerk came back with stacks of shoe boxes. And the happy madness began.

*   *   *

On the way home after a long day of dresses, shoes, accessories—with some honeymoon wardrobe added in—Avery stretched out in the backseat of the car and texted Owen.

Stopped for a late dinner and a reprise of the day’s haul. Your soon to be SIL is going to be a beautiful bride—and knock Beck’s socks off. Her attendants aren’t going to suck either. Heading home. Sorry it’s later than I figured.

Clare turned at the signal from Avery’s phone. “What’s Owen have to say?”

“That Beck hasn’t been able to keep his socks on since he first saw you—that’s a knock-his-socks-off reference. And he wants to know if I want to head to his place.”

“Do you?” Hope asked. “I can drop you there.”

“I have to head up to Hagerstown first thing in the morning for supplies, then I have a meeting with Beckett at the new space.” She texted Owen back as she spoke. “Plus I know Owen’s been putting in some time trying to find Billy.”

“Elizabeth’s Billy?”

Avery nodded at Clare. “So far, not much luck. But then it’s a tall order. I should just go home, get some sleep. It’s nearly eleven already. He misses me, he said.”

“Aw.”

“I know, right? Flutter, flutter. I work till four tomorrow, but I can pick up some specific ingredients when I’m out in the morning, then fix another sample menu if he’s up for it. And he is,” she announced. “I have a date tomorrow night, with my boyfriend.”

“I swear you look like you’ve been hit with the cute stick.”

Avery just grinned at Hope. “That’s how I feel. What a great day. Maybe I’ll call Owen when I get settled down in bed.”

“For phone sex?”

Her grin at Hope didn’t diminish. “That may be a portion of the agenda. Any tips?”

“Talk low, talk slow.”

“She’s so wise.” Avery straightened up as Hope pulled in behind Vesta. “God, what a good, good day.” She leaned forward, kissed both her friends. “I loved it. I love you guys. Pop the trunk. I know which bag is mine.”

“Tell Owen . . . hi,” Hope said, making the syllable breathy. “From us.”

“I’ll be too busy telling him hi from me. This was great, absolutely and completely great. See you tomorrow.” She grabbed her bag, slammed the truck. After waving them off, she hurried into the back door.

She’d been sure she’d be back before closing—but she was not, absolutely not going in to look things over. She forced herself to continue past Vesta’s rear, locked door, turned on the stairway.

And saw the woman sitting on the steps.

Avery stopped where she was, instinctively moved the keys in her hand until one jabbed between her fingers. She considered options as the woman pushed to her feet.

Avery was young, strong—and fast, if necessary.

“The restaurant’s closed,” she said calmly.

“I know. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“If you’re looking for work, you can come in tomorrow, during business hours. But right now—”

“Don’t you know me?” She stepped down; Avery braced. “I’m your mother.”

In the wash of security lights, Avery studied the face. She saw it now, of course, she saw it now. But there were so many years between her last look and this one. So much time, so much distance.

She waited for a surge of something—something, but felt numb.

“What do you want?”

“To see you. To talk to you. Can we go inside and talk?”

Saying nothing, Avery walked up the stairs, unlocked her apartment door.

She realized she did feel something after all.

She felt dread.