No, I almost snapped. Stop it. Don’t say his name.
Nineteen minutes until freedom.
Eighteen minutes until that lovely, breathless feeling in the pit of my stomach never comes back.
Frustrated, I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath, and stood up. This was the price I’d pay. Mama chased men. I wouldn’t. Then I’d never be like her. In the end, it would be worth it.
Mark walked into the room, a triumphant expression on his face. Fatigue lines lay beneath his jubilance.
Interesting.
No, I thought. NOT interesting. Not my business now, either.
“Lizzy!” he sang, drawing out every vowel in an annoying chant. He did this every morning. I’d desperately miss it.
“Yes?”
“I may have another job for you.”
My heart shriveled. “What?”
“Just an idea.” He held up two hands. “We can talk details over later after J—dinner or something.”
He stumbled over the words, suddenly stiff. That wasn’t interesting, either. Nope. Not at all. There were other things to consider, like how was I going to close out this job? Didn’t matter how, I just had to do it.
Finally, I swallowed hard and said, “Mark, I just finished everything that I need to do here.”
“Great, let’s look at your list. I think—”
“No, I mean everything is done.”
He stopped, expression slack. Now it was his turn to be surprised. “Really?”
I gestured around me. “Everything is put together in your physical location. I’ve done what you asked me to do that requires me to be at Adventura. If you’d like me to refer to my spreadsheet—”
He impatiently waved that off. “What about the training manual for the website?”
“I’ll finish that tomorrow.”
“Great! We can talk about this then.”
“Remotely. I’d . . . I’d like to go back to Bethany’s. Tonight, if possible,” I added quietly, absurdly aware of how terrible it felt to ditch them. “Maverick is on his way to get me. He’ll be here any minute now.”
Several long seconds passed. “You won’t stay?” Mark asked.
“There’s no reason to.”
“There’s every reason!” he cried.
“To do what, Mark?” My voice grew louder to match his. Despite my consistently professional demeanor, it felt good to let out some of the tension. “You’re organized now. There’s more space in this office than there has ever been. Everything is on the cloud, your data is safe, and your new Adventura website is launched.” My words slowed. “You can feel justified in cutting back my pay now. I’ll even continue to manage your websites if that helps.”
“It was never about the money, Lizbeth. You’re our friend. Practically my second little sister. Who the hell is going to give me crap now? JJ is a freaking jerk that I still don’t want to talk to, but eventually will because it’s what we do. You’re . . . Lizbeth. You’re the glue here. Lizbeth, you made this place finally smell good!”
My throat ached at the pain of holding back tears. “I know, and I appreciate that,” I whispered. “But this is the right thing.”
His expression softened. “Crap. This is about JJ, isn’t it? What happened?”
Tears filled my eyes for the thousandth time. I just wanted to be home.
“Please, Mark. Let me go.”
He must have seen something on my face. A manifestation of the terror that cradled my body. For a second, I thought he’d say something else, but he just nodded. When he ran a hand through his raven hair, it stood up on end.
“Of course. Whatever you need.” He looked around the office, then back at me. With feeling, he said, “This place will completely suck without you.”
Tires crunched on the snow outside, then came a quick honk. My gaze drifted to where JJ usually stood in the kitchenette smirking over my arguments with Mark.
But, of course, it lay empty.
Just like my heart.
30 JJ
A new cold front moved in from the west that evening, layering the office in an extra-stiff shield of ice outside. Justin tossed another thick log onto the fire, then settled back into watching a video on his phone. A stir of sparks danced up the chimney. Atticus sprawled on the floor.
A three-hour hike had worked off my initial burst of frustration. But it had done nothing to allay the soggy thoughts that remained. I’d thought so much about Lizbeth and her outburst that I was just confused now.
Mark walked in the front door. A brush of cool air came with him. He looked at me, shook his head, and shut the door with a sigh.
Seconds later, a folder full of papers landed on my lap.
“First of all, don’t tell Lizbeth I printed this out, all right? She’ll kill me for not using the online e-signature software stuff, but whatever. I’ll get there. Those are all the signatures from the board approving your idea. We’ll figure out summer later—not to mention how much rent I’m charging you for the kitchen. It’ll be steep.”
Relief that he wasn’t still angry at me brought me out of my spiral. If I needed anyone, it was Mark. By the expression on his face, I could tell he knew that.
“Thanks, Mark.”
Mark grinned, but quickly sobered. “Secondly, I’m sorry, JJ. Sorry that I flipped out and sorry that Lizbeth is gone. I don’t know what happened, but Lizbeth left. She didn’t look good. You all right?”
I nodded. “I’m fine.”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You’re pissed, just own it. I would be too.”
“Mark, I’m sorry about—”
He held up a hand. “Stop. You were an idiot and should have just told me.”
“You’re right. I should have.”
“Were you afraid I’d say no?”
I shook my head and cleared my throat. “Not that. I really didn’t know if it would work out, but I think I was still upset because you never told me about Mom and Dad.”
He stared at me in wordless question.
“The divorce?” I said. “Their struggles? I didn’t know about any of it. You and Megan both did. I’ve already talked to Mom and Dad about it. Although it wasn’t consciously intentional, I think, deep down, I just wanted to do the same thing
