Heather squeezed her hand, her eyes lingering on Molly’s for just the right amount of time for Molly to momentarily lose herself in their impressive shade. Suddenly she was so looking forward to dinner.

“Shall we? I think they have our table waiting. I pulled some strings and got us seated in a quieter part of the restaurant so we can get to know each other. I hope that’s okay.”

“It sounds fantastic. Thank you.”

As Molly moved toward the main dining area of the restaurant, Heather opened the door for her, earning a thousand points for good manners. She began brainstorming ways to thank Eden for this. A hug. A day off. An entire tray of truffles. Her firstborn.

As dinner got underway, things only seemed to get better. The conversation flowed easily, and Molly noticed that the faux confidence she had initially put forth was starting to feel authentic. It was actually kind of fun, this dating thing. Why had she held off for so long?

Heather took a delicate and rather sexy sip of her wine. “How’s your food? The chef here is one of the best in the state.”

“I’d have to say that’s evidenced here. The chicken’s cooked to perfection and the marinade accentuates the flavors nicely without overpowering. I’m kind of in heaven over here.”

Heather leaned her chin onto her palm. “I like the way you talk about food. I’m told you own a bakery.”

“That’s right. It’s just a small little place in Applewood, but people seem to like it.”

Heather nodded and covered Molly’s hand with her own. “I hope I’ll get to check it out sometime.”

Molly’s heart rate noticeably sped up. Me too, Heather-the-tax-attorney. Me too. “Well, you’re welcome anytime. What about you? You must be thrilled now that tax season’s over.”

“Well, with the exception of all of the extensions we’ve filed, sure. I’m thinking that by next week—I’m sorry.” She held up one finger. “Can we pause this for a minute? I’m getting a call that might be important. So rude, but I need to take it.”

“Oh, of course. Go right ahead. I can wait. Don’t mind waiting.” So she was a babbling fool, but Heather was attractive and charming and well-spoken. Who wouldn’t have been?

It was then that Heather pressed a button on her phone and switched into take-charge mode. “Hi, Sal, yeah, I need in on the Celtics/Knicks action. I’ll take the Celtics for a dime.” Pause. She looked furious. “Just extend my credit, you asshole! I’m good for it. Don’t do this to me, Sal.” Pause. “Forget it. I’ll call Jimmy. Oh, and, Sal? Fuck you .” She placed the phone back in her purse, turned back to Molly, and assumed the same serene smile from several moments prior. “Anyway. Yes, next week will be about tying up loose ends at the office.”

Molly tried to pick up the conversation, really she did, but the person she’d just watched take that call was pretty much terrifying and not at all who she’d just had dinner with. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get off topic”—she gestured tentatively to the phone—“but is everything all right?”

Heather sighed. “It will be in a minute. Do you mind if I just…” She picked up her phone and pointed before proceeding to dial.

Molly raised her eyebrows and slowly went back to her chicken, doing her damndest to ignore the incredibly loud warning sirens going off in her head.

“Sammy, it’s Heather. I need the Celtics for a dime. You know what, on second thought, make it three.” Pause. “You’re the greatest. Just put it on my tab. I can settle with you in a week or so. I should have some cash coming in if all goes well with the playoffs on Sunday. Ciao.” She leaned into Molly and practically purred. “Now where were we?

Molly shook her head slowly in wonder. “I couldn’t tell you if I wanted to. Are you into…gambling?”

Heather held her thumb and forefinger close together. “A minor hobby. Excuse me, sir?” she asked a passing busboy. “Can you get me the Lakers score?”

He leaned in discreetly. “Two minutes ago they were down by twelve.”

“Damn it!” she screamed at the room in general, inciting several glares from nearby tables. She grabbed for her phone and dialed angrily. “Bobby, can you get me the halftime betting lines? Now, asshole!” Molly wanted to die. To crawl under the table and die. Instead, she signaled the waiter for the check.

As she signed the credit card slip for both of their meals, Heather leaned in flirtatiously. “So explain to me how a woman as attractive and seemingly intelligent as you is still single?”

Molly sighed and set down the pen. “You know what? Single’s not so bad.”

Later that night, as Molly replayed the details of the date that had gone so terribly wrong, she wondered if it was some sort of sign that it was a bad idea. And for whatever reason, there was comfort in that. Her life wasn’t so bad, she reminded herself. She had her routine, her small group of friends and her family. That should be enough.

She checked the time. It was late and she was opening the next morning, but she knew what she wanted to do before bed. She snuggled under a blanket on the couch and reached for the remote. Images of their trip to Jamaica, hers and Cassie’s, flickered across her television, and she sighed into the comfort the home video provided. It was her go-to and she stole moments with it whenever she could.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Molly asked from behind the camera. Cassie sat on a beach towel in the sand.

“Because you’re adorable when you’re concentrating on working that thing.” The breeze caught her blond hair and lifted it. “Put that thing down and come in the water with me. We can stay where it’s shallow if you want.”

“Wait. Say where we are and what we’re doing first.”

Cassie smiled and looked straight into the camera. Because she couldn’t help herself, Molly paused the video and stared at the frozen image. The room was silent as Cassie smiled back at her from the screen. The features were so familiar, so beautiful, and full of life. It was when she watched this particular video that she felt closest to Cassie. They’d been so happy on that trip. She hugged the blanket to her and unpaused the DVD. Cassie’s voice filled the room. “It’s June. We’re in Jamaica. And we’re in love. Can we go in the water now?”

“We can. Blow me a kiss.”

And she did. Molly rewound it and watched the kiss again. And then the video went dark and she sat in the blackness, already feeling better as she drifted slowly to sleep.

Chapter Five

The next day didn’t turn out as planned for Jordan. She woke up early, but the pitter-patter of raindrops on the window was only a sneak preview of the great big storms that would roll in and stay for most of the morning. She knew early on that she wouldn’t be able to finish the shutter job over at Molly’s so instead she headed for the clinic to make herself useful. They were down a receptionist and she’d volunteered to help out whenever she could. That seemed to make her parents happy, which was kind of her goal as of late.

She spent the morning organizing patient charts and scheduling, skills she’d picked up in high school and slid easily back into.

Her dad joined her midday in the break room for lunch, cutting his sub sandwich in half for them to split. He still wore his very official white coat she’d admired as a child, the pocket outfitted with a few token lollipops for the younger patients and a few demanding older ones. His hair was entirely gray now, and he’d shaved off the moustache he’d had for much of her childhood. “It’s nice having you around again, Jordana. I could get used to this.”

She smiled. She and her father didn’t always see eye to eye, but she enjoyed spending time with him one-on-one. He was a good guy. “You say that to all your kids.” But then that sounded strange because really there was just her and Mikey now.

He must have seen the realization flicker in her eyes. “Don’t look that way. I still have three kids, you know. Five, counting Teresa and Molly.”

Jordan nodded solemnly, knowing it was true. She played absently with the corner of her sandwich.

Her father slid her an inquisitive look. “So how are things with Molly these days? You two do much talking since you’ve been back?”

“A little. She seems okay. Why do you ask?

He grabbed for a chip. “Your mother and I worry for her sometimes. She has a lot on her plate with her father’s declining health and managing the bakery all by herself. She’s there at five a.m. each morning and doesn’t leave sometimes until well past dinnertime. She doesn’t let us help enough, and for Cassie’s sake, we should. We should all be watching out for Molly.”

Jordan nodded and contemplated telling her father about the financial trouble at Flour Child, but decided that Molly had confided in her alone. She should respect that. “I guess I didn’t realize she pulled so many hours. But I think she’s managing.” However, as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she wasn’t at all convinced.

“And what about you? When does the studio need you back in the saddle? Or have you decided to listen to reason and leave that world behind?”

It was no secret that her father found the entertainment industry frivolous in comparison to the rest of the family’s noble work. She was the family black sheep, and she was used to her part. But for whatever reason, she needed to be honest with him in this moment. And she needed for him to understand.

She bit the bullet and recounted the details of her less than dignified dismissal from the set the week prior. When she finished, she met her father’s eyes, and any hope of understanding or compassion on his part left her immediately. Instead, she only saw disappointment.

And, as always, it was crushing.