When I steppedinto the car, my stomach dropped and kept on going. Serena’s eyes were red-rimmed, as though she’d been crying.
Impossible.
I didn’t even know the last time I’d seen Serena cry.
“Hey,” I said with caution.
“Hey.” Her voice was clipped, and she said nothing else.
I fastened my seat belt and forced my gaze forward. The snow pelted against the windshield, the wipers swishing back and forth like crazy.
Serena was tough. Tough as steel. The hardest and strongest emotionally out of all of us. Part of me was afraid to ask her what was wrong because if she was crying, then it must be bad.
But after a few minutes, it ate me up inside. If it was about Alec, then I had to know.
“What’s wrong? Did you find Alec?” I tried to control the tremor in my voice, but I failed.
She shook her head. “No, they haven’t found him yet. He went out with some friends. Well, that’s what he told Addison at least.”
I placed a hand on her forearm when we were stopped at a light, anxiety eating my insides. Any doubt that I’d had about Serena crying was erased by the dampness on her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my tone turning frantic.
She shook her head as she forced her attention to the road again and pressed on the gas. “It’s done.”
“What’s done?” I asked, my voice growing with fear. “Pull to the side of the road, Serena.”
The snow was worse, and I was afraid she wasn’t in the right state of mind to drive. And until she told me what was up, I wouldn’t be able to calm down.
After she pulled to the side, she rested her head on the wheel, hands still on ten and two. “It’s over. Loverly Ad Agency, Mom’s legacy. It’s over.”
The agency had been suffering for years, but we always rebounded, got the next deal to keep us afloat for just a little longer until we got the deal after that.
“I lost the deal, Sydney. Barry went with another firm.” The wretchedness in her tone broke me.
Once the words were out of her mouth, the emotions that she’d tried so hard to hide were on full display. She full-on wept, and I leaned into her and held her as my bottom lip quivered.
Barry was from The Sub Sandwich, a well-named local chain that had helped keep us afloat. He was our biggest customer, who had been with Loverly since its inception, when my mother started the firm.
“We grew his company to where he is today. How could he do this?”
Four slow breaths escaped my sister’s body. She hadn’t lifted her head from the steering wheel. “He doesn’t think we can take him national. From a Midwest sub shop to a national sub chain. I told him that’s where he’s wrong. But he doesn’t believe that we can do it because we’re a much smaller firm.”
I lifted my head from her back and settled a hand between her shoulder blades, needing to console her. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Yeah, Sydney. It’s done. Loverly Ad Agency is done.” Her voice shook. I heard the heaviness in her tone, the truth in her words. “I’m surprised it lasted this long. I mean, every quarter, every damn day, it seemed like we were trying to make ends meet.”
“How about the new clients?” I asked, grasping for straws. “We have so many in the pipeline.”
She lifted her head, her eyes downturned and saddened by the weight of the agency on her shoulders. “Those are prospects, Syd. And even if we win them all, no one is going to replace Barry’s account. Maybe …” She tore her gaze from mine. “Maybe this is for the best. But I can’t stop thinking about Mom …”
“I know.” Because this was what she’d started, not only for her, but for us. “But we’ve tried our best,” I said, clenching my jaw.
I had to stay strong for Serena. I couldn’t break down now even though everything around us was falling apart.
All of us had tried to keep the business afloat, but mostly Serena.
“And Mom would understand that we have to move on,” I said.