What Happens Between Friends (8 page)

Her pulse pounded in her ears, dull and deafening. “You...you don’t mean that.”

He met her eyes. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”

“Jamie, please. We can work through this—”

“You’re right. We could.”

“Then why—”

“We could,” he repeated, towering over her, his jaw tight, his eyes so cold it was all she could do not to shiver. “All I’d have to do is agree that what happened last night was a mistake, that making love to you didn’t mean anything to me. That my feelings toward you were strictly platonic. That I don’t dream about you. That jealousy doesn’t eat me alive every time you tell me about the latest man in your life. I could go on being your friend, Sadie. But the thing is, I don’t want to.”

It was like he’d punched her in the stomach. She wanted to bend over from the pain, wanted to sob with it.

“And I don’t think you have any goddamn right asking me to do so,” he continued relentlessly. “I can’t keep living my life wanting something I’m never going to have. I can’t keep hoping you’ll notice me, that someday you’ll see me as something more than your good buddy. I’m done.” His mouth was a thin line, his shoulders rigid. “
We
are done.”

He turned from her as if that was it, as if it didn’t matter what she wanted, how she felt.

“That’s it?” she asked, storming into his room while he went into his walk-in closet. Who was this man? How could he treat her this way? He came back, a pair of running shoes in his hands. “How can you abandon our friendship after all these years?”

“Self-preservation.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, the bed that was still unmade, where he’d touched her so gently just a few hours ago, he pulled the sneakers on, left them untied. “For once in my life, I’m thinking of myself.” He stood, grabbed a sweatshirt off the chair under the window. “I’m taking Zoe for a run. If our friendship meant anything to you at all, you’ll be gone before I get back.”

And he called his dog and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him, leaving Sadie standing in his bedroom that smelled of him, feeling as if she’d lost the most precious thing in her life.

Wondering if she’d ever be able to get it back.

* * *

“O
H
, S
ADIE
,” I
RENE
E
LLISON
said, her tone laced with equal amounts exasperation and love as Sadie walked into WISC, her mother’s upscale clothing boutique, “what did you do now?”

Sadie stopped so suddenly, the door swung and hit her in the rear. Had her mom heard about her and James? That was taking the whole moms-know-all-and-see-all thing a little too far.

“What have you heard?” Sadie hedged.

Irene shook her head. “Let’s not play word games, Sadie. You—” Her eyes widened as she looked behind Sadie. “Did you get a dog?” she asked, sounding as scandalized as if Sadie had brought a coyote pup home and begged to keep it.

Sadie entered the store fully, set her hand on Elvis’s head. “He’s only staying with me temporarily.”

As if that was pushing her patience to the limit, Irene glanced at the heavens. “Well, can’t you tie him up outside? I don’t allow dogs in the store.”

“I would, except I don’t have a leash for him.”

A leash. A collar. Food and water bowls. You know, all the essentials a person needed for the care and feeding of a dog. But first she’d have to borrow some money from her mom and stepfather.

So much for being a strong, self-sufficient woman.

“I’m heading to the mall to get him one,” Sadie continued, “but wanted to stop and say hi, let you know I’m in town—”

“I already knew you were in town,” Irene said. “Your sister told me.”

Figured. Sadie loved her little sister, but she’d always been a tattletale.

“I got in late,” Sadie said, Elvis following her as she wound her way around racks of designer clothes, Irene watching the dog as if ready to leap on his back if he so much as thought about leaving a dog hair on a precious silk blouse. She stopped in front of the checkout counter, across from her mom. “So...I’m in town, Mom. It sure is nice to see you.”

Irene, still thin, blond and a stunner at fifty-four, smiled. Definitely stunning. “I’m sorry, dear.” She hurried around the front counter, enveloped Sadie in a hug. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

Sadie held on tight. No matter what their problems—and she and Irene had more than their fair share—they both knew the other loved them unconditionally. She shut her eyes and breathed in her mother’s perfume—Chanel No. 5, of course. Classy, elegant and timeless, just like Irene.

Being in her mother’s arms was familiar. Safe. Sadie didn’t want to let go.

Irene leaned back, her smile fading when she saw Sadie’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Sadie averted her gaze. Damn her mother and that ability to read Sadie’s thoughts, to always know when she was hiding something and, worst of all, when she was lying through her teeth.

“Laura,” Irene called to one of her three part-time employees, “I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

Laura, a cute blonde who looked to be at least thirteen months pregnant, glanced over her shoulder from where she was working on a display of silver necklaces. Smiled. “Okay.” She waved. “Hi, Sadie.”

“Hi, Laura. Good to see you.”

Sadie followed her mother toward the back of the store. On Sundays, WISC was open from ten until two, a nice little window, Irene had once explained to Sadie, for people to stop in after brunch or church, but closing early enough so that Irene still had the majority of the day free. As it was just past ten, and the store had only been open a few minutes, no customers milled about. But there would be people in there soon. Her mom ran the most successful clothing store in the area.

Everything her mother did was successful.

Well, everything except Sadie.

“Watch that tail, dog,” Irene told Elvis, whose wagging tail came close to knocking a display of cocktail rings off a low table.

Elvis hung his head.

No one could dole out the reprimands like Irene. Luckily, she was equally good at dishing out the compliments. But only ones that’d been earned. When Irene said something nice about you, you knew she meant it.

Sadie snapped her fingers and Elvis sidled up next to her. They walked through a large stockroom into a kitchenette.

“Tea?” Irene asked.

“Sure.” Sadie sat at the small table while her mom put a kettle of water on, retrieved two cups and put a tea bag in each one.

Sitting across from Sadie, Irene folded her perfectly manicured hands on the table. “How have you been?”

“Good,” Sadie said, matching her mother’s polite tone. They were nothing if not polite to one another. Oh, they loved each other, but Sadie thought her mother was too concerned with appearances and what other people thought than in supporting her eldest daughter’s decisions. Irene worried that Sadie was wasting her life and would end up alone.

A distinct possibility.

“How about you?” Sadie asked.

“Honey, I’m fine. Now, let’s get back to you. What’s wrong? And please, don’t try to tell me ‘nothing’ again. I know you too well.”

Sadie wasn’t so sure about that.

Irritated, still reeling from her conversation with James, she shifted in her chair like a wayward two-year-old. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

Irene reached across the table to clasp Sadie’s hand. Her eyes, the same light blue as Sadie’s, were shrewd and saw way too much. “Because you’re home.”

For some crazy reason, Sadie found herself wanting to tell her mom everything. Admit to everything, all the decisions she’d made that had led her to this point, all the mistakes. She knew her mom would help her, but she wasn’t in the mood for the whole disappointed, where-have-I-gone-wrong lecture that came along with that help.

The kettle whistled and Irene went to make their tea. Chewing the inside of her lower lip, Sadie rubbed Elvis’s head, which was in her lap. But she hadn’t confided in her mom in years. Oh, they didn’t fight—Irene was too composed to resort to arguments. But she did set pretty high standards for her daughters, and if you didn’t meet them, didn’t fall into line with what she thought you should do, who she thought you should be, she let you know it.

But she was always there to help Sadie get back on her feet.

Sadie wished she could appreciate it more instead of just feeling like a huge failure. To come crawling back to her mommy was humiliating.

Somehow, some way, this was all James’s fault.

Irene set the teacup in front of Sadie and placed a plate of fancy cookies in the center of the table. Sadie chose a sugar-dusted molasses cookie and bit into it. She groaned. “Delicious. Homemade?”

Irene made a humming sound as if Sadie should know better than to even ask if Irene Ellison would give anyone—even her prodigal daughter—store-bought cookies.

Sadie took another cookie, nibbled on the edge, then palmed it and slid it onto her lap. Kept her expression smooth as she lifted her hand so Elvis could eat it.

“Please don’t feed your dog at the table,” Irene said, not even glancing up from where she studied the plate of cookies before making her own choice—shortbread.

“You should really think of taking that whole ESP thing on the road.”

With a secret smile, Irene lifted her cup for a sip. Sadie added two teaspoons of sugar to her tea and stirred it. Stirred and stirred and stirred while Irene calmly, patiently drank her own tea.

Waiting her out, Sadie knew. No one did that whole sit-and-wait-and-the-other-person-will-soon-crack tactic like Irene. She would have made a great cop.

“I need a place to stay,” Sadie admitted.

“I see. Did something happen between you and James?”

Sadie stared at her tea. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you usually stay with him.”

“Well, this time I’m not. I’d like to stay with you.”

“That’s a change.”

Yes, it was. For as long as she could remember, Sadie had wanted to get out from under her mother and stepfather’s roof. To live her own life free of their rules.

To live life like her father had.

Irene glanced at Elvis. “And does the dog that’s staying with you temporarily need a place to stay as well?”

“He does. But only until I find his owners or someone to adopt him.”

“Is he house-trained?”

“Yes.”

“And up-to-date on his shots?”

“Definitely.”

Probably. Maybe. She glanced at Elvis, but he didn’t pull out an immunization record, so she’d just have to go with her gut. And hope she could slip this one little fib past the human lie detector.

She held her breath while her mom mulled it over. If she said no, Sadie didn’t know what she’d do. She’d never been homeless, not really. But it was a distinct possibility now. She could ask Charlotte to let her bunk on the couch, but her sister would have to run it by her roommate first.

And honestly, it was lowering to ask your baby sister to get you out of a jam.

Especially when that baby sister was more accomplished, more responsible and way more mature than Sadie ever hoped to be.

But she couldn’t leave Shady Grove. Without money, she had nowhere else to go. She also couldn’t afford a hotel room, and while she had quite a few friends in town still, most of them were married with families, jobs and their own busy lives.

Her throat clogged. This was, without a doubt, the absolute worst morning of her life. And that was saying something. She’d left James’s house in a daze, stunned that he’d thrown away a lifetime of friendship.

Hurt that he’d dismissed her that way because she couldn’t give him what he wanted. Couldn’t be who he wanted her to be.

“Mom,” Sadie said, her voice thick with emotion. She cleared her throat. “Can I come home? Please?”

“Honey,” Irene said, getting up and walking around the table to crouch next to Sadie. She wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Of course you can. You’re always welcome, you know that.”

Sadie sniffed, fought the urge to throw herself into her mother’s arms and bawl like a baby. “You don’t think Will will mind?”

“Don’t be silly. You know your father loves nothing more than having his girls home.”

Willard Ellison wasn’t her father, though. Yes, he loved her and had always treated her like his own daughter. But she’d never been able to think of him as her father. Not if she wanted to keep the memory of her own dad clear and strong in her mind.

Loving Will too much had felt like a betrayal to Victor.

Irene gave her one last squeeze and straightened. “But—”

Sadie groaned. “Why is there always a
but
with mothers?”

“All the better to annoy our children,” Irene told her. She rinsed her cup, set it in the sink. “Since you’re bringing that dog, there need to be a few rules.”

Of course. There were always rules at her mother’s house. You couldn’t outgrow it.

“You,” Irene continued, “and only you, will be responsible for his care. I will not feed him, not once. Nor will I walk him or let him out to take care of his—” she wrinkled her nose “—business.”

“Agreed.” Sadie thought about adding a sharp salute, but had enough sense to resist.

Irene turned, faced her, her hands linked at her waist. “Now, I take it you have employment lined up while you’re here?”

She usually picked up money tending bar at a local spot, but that wouldn’t be enough to cover the cost for her to go to California. “I’m going to talk to Gordy this afternoon, see if I can take a couple of shifts at O’Riley’s. But I’m also looking for something during the day.”

“You could work here.”

On a surprised laugh, Sadie dropped the cookie she’d been slipping to Elvis. It fell to the floor, but he didn’t eat it, just looked at her.

It took her a moment to realize her mother was serious. “Thanks, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? You’re great with customers. And you’ve always had an eye for color.”

“It’s just that this is your thing.”

“My thing?”

Feeling as if she’d somehow hurt her mother’s feelings, Sadie rose. “Your hobby.” One bought and paid for by her husband, Dr. Ellison, a local ophthalmologist. “Besides, you know I’ve never been one to follow fads or trends.”