I’d gone the whole day without talking to Naomi—partly because I’d simply been too busy worrying about my evening from hell, but partly because I’d been avoiding the conversation that I still wasn’t sure how to have with my friend.
But it was a conversation that needed to be had, and I needed to do it before Naomi went back to work.
Plus, if there was anyone who would understand what I was going through, it would be my friend and coworker.
I only hesitated for a moment when I turned off the car, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel as I tried to figure out what, exactly, I was going to say.
Hi, Naomi. Um, guess what?
Hey, Naomi, looks like we both might be unemployed.
So, Naomi… know of any good jobs around town?
Okay, so maybe none of those were a great way to break it to her.
Whatever.
I’d just have to wing it and hope for the best.
I got out of the car and walked up the flight of stairs to Naomi’s door, immediately knocking before I could change my mind. I tried to smile when she opened the door, but I could tell right away that my friend could see right through me.
We’d been friends for a few years—long enough to have seen the ups and downs in each other’s lives. Through it all, Naomi had always been there for me, ready to listen and provide whatever comfort and reassurances she could.
“Oh my God, I know that look,” she said, taking me by the arm and pulling me inside to give me a much-needed hug. “What happened? Spill.”
For several long moments, I didn’t say anything. I simply closed my eyes and let myself be comforted.
I knew Naomi wouldn’t be put off for long, though. I had to blink back the tears that kept welling up as I finally pulled away and walked over to the sofa, letting myself sink down into the cushions before looking up to meet her concerned stare.
“It’s been a horrible day, Naomi. The worst.”
“Mhm, I gathered that. Wanna talk about it?”
I shook my head. “No, but we’re gonna have to anyway. I think you’d better sit down.”
“Oh, God.”
Naomi didn’t argue, though. She didn’t even crack a joke. My tears and doom-and-gloom tone must have been pretty convincing.
Once she was seated next to me, Naomi raised an eyebrow, questioningly.
“Brady—Henry’s son—finally came by the shop.”
“And that’s… bad news?” She cocked her head to the side. “I thought that’s what we’ve been waiting for. Is he a jerk or something? Do we hate him?”
I laughed for the first time all evening. At least I never had to worry about Naomi’s loyalty.
Still, even though I had been trying to figure out what, exactly, I was feeling from the moment I’d stormed away from the dinner table, my emotions were still all jumbled.
A part of mewantedto hate Brady, and I was definitely pissed, definitely resentful of the decision to sell. But it was impossible not to feel empathy and sympathy for the guy at the same time.
He’d just lost his father, and even though the two men clearly hadn’t been close, it was obvious that the loss had still affected Brady deeply.
Then there was the irrational but still difficult-to-ignore attraction or…something… that I felt whenever I was around him. The butterflies that seemed to come out of nowhere any time Brady even looked in my direction. The way I hadn’t been able to think of anything or anyone else since the moment we’d met. The hot-as-hell fantasies that I’d been trying not to let myself indulge in.
Every one of those completely different and confusing emotions had been battling it out in my head and heart all afternoon, but there was still no clear winner.
“No, he’s not a jerk. And I don’t hate him, although it might be easier if I did. But he’s actually really nice. And hot. But—”