“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Hannah argued. “Your Piper sparkle is gone.”
She laughed without humor. “My what?”
“Your Piper sparkle,” her sister repeated, looking increasingly worried. “You always have it, no matter what. Even when you’ve been arrested or Daniel is being a jerk, you always have this, like, optimism lighting you up. Brightness. But it’s gone now, and I don’t like it. What did Mick say to you?”
Piper closed her eyes. “Who cares?”
Hannah huffed a sound at Piper’s uncharacteristic response. “What is going to make you feel better right now? Tell me what it is and we’ll do it. I don’t like seeing you like this.”
Brendan walking through the door and pulling her into the recharging station would cure a lot of ills, but that wasn’t going to happen. She could feel it. How badly she’d messed up by keeping safety nets in place without telling Brendan. How badly she’d hurt him by doing so. Badly enough that even the most steadfast man on earth had reached the end of his patience with her. “I don’t know. God, I just want to blink and be a million miles away.”
More than that, she wanted to feel like her old self again.
The old Piper might have been lacking in direction, but she’d been happy, right? When people judged the old Piper, it was from the other side of an iPhone screen, not to her face. She didn’t have to try and fail, because she’d never tried in the first place, and God, it had been easy. Just then, she wanted to slip back into that identity and drop out, so she wouldn’t have to feel this uncomfortable disappointment in herself. Wouldn’t have to acknowledge the proof that she wasn’t tough. Wasn’t capable. Didn’t belong.
Her phone buzzed on the bar. Another message from Kirby.
Piper opened the text and sighed over the Tom Ford peep-toe pumps on her screen. White with gold chains to serve as the ankle strap. Kirby was playing hardball now. Putting on those shoes and a killer dress and walking into a sea of photo-snapping strangers would be like taking a painkiller right now. She wouldn’t have to feel a thing.
“Go home, Pipes.”
She looked up sharply. “What?”
Hannah seemed to be wrestling with something. “You know I think your LA friends are phonies and you’re way too good for them, right?” She sighed. “But maybe you need to go to Kirby’s party. I can see you want to.”
Piper set down her phone firmly. “No. After all this work? No.”
“You can always come back.”
Would she, though? Once she walked back into that fog of dancing and selfies and sleeping until noon, was it realistic that she would return to Westport and face her shortcomings? Especially if she made enough money on endorsements tomorrow night to get her out of Daniel’s pocket? “I can’t. I can’t just . . .”
But why couldn’t she?
Look around. What was stopping her?
“Well . . .” A tremble of excitement coursed up her fingertips. “You’ll come with me, right, Hanns? If I’m not here, you don’t have to be either.”
Her sister shook her head. “Shauna has me opening the record shop tomorrow and Wednesday. I can ask her to find a replacement, but until then, I have to stick around.” Hannah reached out and took the sides of Piper’s face in her hands. “I’ll only be a couple of days behind you. Go. It’s like you’ve flatlined and I hate it.”
“Go right now? But . . .” She gestured weakly. “The bar. We did this for Henry.”
Hannah shrugged. “Henry Cross belongs to this place. Maybe turning it back over to them is what he would have wanted. It was the spirit behind it that counted, Piper. I’m proud of us no matter what.” She surveyed the line of empty stools. “And I think I can handle the rest of this shift alone. Text Kirby. Tell her you’re coming.”
“Hannah, are you sure? I really don’t like leaving you here.”
Her sister snorted. “Stop it. I’m fine. I’ll go crash at Shauna’s if it makes you feel better.”
Piper’s breath started to come faster. “Am I really doing this?”
“Go,” Hannah ordered, pointing at the staircase. “I’ll get you an Uber.”
Oh wow, this was really happening. She was leaving Westport.
Returning to something she could do and do well.
Easy. Just easy.
Avoid this despair and disappointment. Just sink back in and never look back. Forget about this place that didn’t want her and the man who didn’t trust her.
Ignoring Brendan’s clear, beloved image in her head, his deep voice telling her to stay, Piper ran up the stairs and started shoving her belongings into suitcases.
Chapter Thirty
Brendan stood on the deck of the Della Ray, staring off in the direction of Westport. The direction they were headed now. He saw none of the seemingly endless water in front of him. Saw none of the men pulling lines and fixing lures around him, the low blare of Black Sabbath coming from the wheelhouse speakers. He’d been locked in a sedated state since Saturday morning when they’d left the harbor.