“You should stay.”
I looked at her the same way Tina looked at me a few seconds ago when I gushed over the town. “Excuse me?”
“You should stay. For a little while, at least.”
I’d thought she’d meant forever. Nearly gave me a heart attack. “Yeah, I’ll just go ahead and put an offer on this house. I mean, it’s perfect. Nice view and all. And then with some of the remaining money in my bank account, maybe I’ll buy a winery too while I’m at it.”
“Smart ass.” I smiled and took a sip of coffee. “I’m sure you could find a reasonable long-term rental.”
I looked back at the lake. “And why, exactly, would I be looking for a long-term rental in a place I know exactly zero people?”
Tina, always the adventurous one, shrugged. “You don’t have a job to go back to.”
I peered at her through raised eyebrows.
“Sorry, but it’s true. You’re sitting on a pretty sweet severance package. And clearly you love it here. It could be a little summer adventure while you clear your head.”
The woman was out of her mind. “I’d tear through my bank account too quickly.”
“So get a summer job.”
This time I laughed out loud, and then remembered the others were sleeping and lowered my voice. “A summer job? Like a teenager. Maybe at an ice cream shop?”
“Brooke,” she said, using that tone. The one she tried to teach me to use so I didn’t get walked all over in the boardroom. “You hate the city. Why go back?”
“You’re there. And a ton of job opportunities are there. And—” I pretended to think, “—oh yeah. My apartment is there.”
She put her coffee down in front of her, which was when I got scared. She was serious now. “One, since I got engaged and moved to the burbs, I hardly see you.” Which was true. While I lived and (had) worked in Tribeca and Tina had lived on the Upper East Side, now she resided out in the boondocks, up in Westchester, and we only got together every few months or so. “Two, those job opportunities have not yet materialized. You can job hunt from here just as easily as there. Three, your apartment will be fine. I will check on it periodically.”
“I don’t have my stuff.”
“I’ll send it to you.”
“I’m not sure I can afford it.”
“Can you afford not to?”
My hand froze halfway to my mouth. I lowered the mug to my lap and thought about that for a second. Longer than a second, actually. It was nuts. Crazypants. Absolutely insane. But then I looked back out to the water.
Was it nuts?
“A summer job,” I mumbled.
“Part-time. For spending money. And to meet people. Or at least have someone to talk to. You’re too much of a people person to sit here and stare at the lake all summer, as pretty as it is.”
She was not wrong. “I’m sure no one is still hiring for the summer. It’s two weeks into June.”
“And I’m sure you’re wrong.” Tina looked like the cat who ate the canary, and the canary was a big, juicy plump one. Her expression scared me, actually.
“What?” I asked.
She leaned forward. “Don’t say no immediately.”
Yep, definitely scared. “Tina . . .”
“Yesterday, at the winery, when we were checking out, the girl apologized if the service was anything short of excellent. She mentioned they were two tasting room attendants short and were having a hard time finding replacements.”
“Tasting room attendants? I know one wine, and that’s it. Hardly a perfect fit.”