“I like the way you think,” Lanie said.

They toasted with their coffee cups and then came an awkward silence.

“So . . . how are you doing?” Alyssa asked.

“You know damn well how I’m doing. I’m tired, grumpy, and need ice cream, preferably delivered by puppies.”

Alyssa squeezed her hand in sympathy and took a call.

Lanie was grateful to have gotten out of the conversation she didn’t want to have. Because she actually didn’t know how she felt. She knew she needed to process on her own time schedule, although she was a slow processor. But she could feel things boiling just beneath her surface. Way too many things . . .

Mia walked in yawning and headed directly toward the coffeepot.

“Where’s everyone?” Lanie asked.

“If by everyone you mean River, she’s out in the field today. Come to me, my precious,” she said to her cup of coffee.

Lanie’s biggest hope for the day had been to avoid River and her relief was instant, like a huge weight lifted off her chest. “The field?” she asked.

Mia shrugged. “She’s working from the big house today, doing some online research for Mom. I think it was more for you than anything else. It’ll be easier for you to avoid her and pretend you’re not mad when we all know you are.”

Lanie froze for a beat. “I’m not—”

“Oh, please.” Mia met Lanie’s gaze, her own surprisingly kind. “Listen, you’ve got a right to be, at the very least, bitchy as hell. And I’ve been there.”

“Really?” Lanie asked. “You’ve been married to a man you thought you knew only to have him die and then find out he collected wives like some men collect change in their pockets?”

“Well, maybe not exactly that,” Mia said. “But the important thing here is to remember to practice self-care in times of stress. Take a walk, paint a picture, murder someone, burn the body, and clean up the crime scene.”

Lanie laughed. She hadn’t thought she’d had a laugh in her, but she’d been wrong. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“I’m going out with some friends tonight,” Mia said. “And I know Mark’s working. Come join us.”

“Can’t,” Lanie said, more than a little bummed that Mark wouldn’t be able to further distract her with more orgasms later. But it was just as well because she knew he expected her to talk eventually. He was just waiting her out. But he didn’t know the lengths she was prepared to go in order to never talk about it. “I have too much stuff to do.”

And that night she got to the “stuff,” which involved spending hours taking Buzzfeed quizzes to see what kind of pizza she was and which Harry Potter character she resembled.

And so went the next week, during which she managed to continue to avoid River so easily that she knew River was avoiding her too.

Chapter 21

“What state do you live in?”

Constant anxiety.

By the end of the week, Lanie still hadn’t made peace with what had happened. Cora—or maybe just fate—had been kind enough to keep River in the front building and out of the offices.

Lanie was grateful for the time to think. Or not think, as the case might be. She dug into work as an excuse to busy herself and to not have to see or talk to anyone—though they’d tried.

All of them.

The only one who’d gotten through had been Mark, and that was only because he had the key to her cottage and knew how to get past her defenses by not using words.

Nope. He used his body instead.

And he’d used it well. The things he’d done to her in the deep dark of night were the only highlights in an otherwise spectacularly shitty week. Granted, it was probably only a matter of time before he tried to get her to talk, but for now he let her be.

And for that alone, she fell for him just a little bit harder.

Then one afternoon Alyssa texted her with an “employee-room emergency.” Lanie raced over there to find no Alyssa in sight.

Just River, looking very young, very pregnant, and very nervous.

Lanie froze in the doorway. “Where’s Alyssa? She texted me.”

“I asked her to,” River said.

Lanie turned to the door to go.

“Lanie, please. I want to apologize. I want to talk to you and explain—”

Lanie sighed and faced her. “You’ve already apologized and there’s nothing to talk about.”

River’s expression was one of devastation and Lanie hardened herself to it. It’s like the glass partition at the zoo between the dangerous animals and the patrons, she told herself. You’re looking at this situation from behind a huge window. Nothing can get to you. You’re safe.

And best yet, not even emotions could get through the glass. It was how her mom and dad had dealt with her. They did what they’d had to in order to be parents, but there’d been no emotion, no feeling.

The glass was a good thing.

“If there’s nothing to talk about,” River said, “then we can get past this, right? We can go back to being friends?”

That was just it. Lanie had believed them to be friends, but it’d been a ruse from the get-go. She turned to pour herself a cup of coffee and saw that Alyssa and Cora had come into the room, so she managed a smile. “Sure,” she said through her imaginary glass wall. “Of course.”

Cora looked relieved. Alyssa seemed to buy it as well.

But River’s eyes said she knew the truth. That Lanie was being nice only to keep the peace.

“Thanks,” River said quietly. “I’d like that.”

Lanie nodded.

River, clearly trying to hide her disappointment behind her smile, walked out.

Cora gave Lanie a quick squeeze, a gentle sweet hug before reaching for an empty mug. “So how are you doing? You’re hanging in there?”

Her boss had been gently probing all week. Lanie had been avoiding her the best she could because she really did care about Cora. She cared about Sierra and Sam. She cared about Mia and Alyssa. She cared about all of them.

Including Mark.

Especially Mark.

Nothing had changed about any of that, but caring about these people gave them great power over her. They could manipulate her. They could hurt her.

Cora—who had a way with timing, or hell, maybe she could read minds—grabbed an apple from a basket on the counter. “I’m going into a bunch of meetings,” she said, “one of which is in regards to the bottling business.” She looked at Lanie expectantly. She’d said she wouldn’t push Lanie about extending her contract. This was Cora, not pushing.

But Lanie couldn’t hold off this discussion any longer. Her decision was made. Maybe there’d been a few weeks where she’d actually considered staying, but she knew she couldn’t now. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to take the extension,” she said, managing to meet her unwavering gaze. “I’m grateful for the generous offer, but I’m going to leave at the end of my contract.”

Cora’s phone rang, which she ignored. “I promised you that I’d accept whatever decision you made. But I just want to make sure this wasn’t a hasty decision made in a moment of high emotion. In other words, don’t make it personal.”