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  Addison wanted that job so badly, she could taste it.

  She picked up her mug as she watched Kyle get into his car and took a sip of very cold coffee, which hit her stomach like liquid fire. She grimaced and set it back down. She’d had more than enough caffeine today—she could almost hear Sophie, her best friend since college, scolding her about how much coffee she drank. “Jesus, Fairchild, you’re already wound tighter than anybody I’ve ever met. There’s this new thing called decaf. You should try it some time.”

  Addison managed half a smile at the thought, but it was curtailed by the throbbing in her head, which seemed to suddenly increase. With a quiet groan, she opened her desk drawer and pulled out the jumbo-size bottle of Motrin, which had recently become her constant companion. She shook four pills into her hand and washed them down with the same awful coffee, just as the phone on her desk began to ring.

  Back to the chaos, she thought as she snatched up the handset.

  * * *

  “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it. Again.” Sophie Bennett sat at a table for two in Vineyard, her favorite wine bar. She did her best to school her features and not look all that annoyed, but Addison knew her well.

  “I told you I’d be here.” Addison shed her coat and glanced surreptitiously at her watch as she did. Yeah, she was nearly half an hour late, which wasn’t like her. She prided herself on being punctual, but lately, things seemed to be getting away from her. She felt the grimace cross her face, felt the frustration ripple through her.

  “You told me that the last time, too.” Sophie sipped from her glass of some kind of red. “And you blew me off.”

  “And I apologized.” Addison didn’t want to get annoyed, but she felt it bubbling low in her gut. With a sigh, she sat. “I’m sorry this time, too. Rough day.”

  Addison and Sophie had been best friends since they were matched up as suitemates in college. There had been four of them in the suite, but the other two girls were friends from high school and did everything together, leaving Addison and Sophie on their own. They had similar interests and equal drive, and it just seemed natural for them to pair up. Sophie had been pre-law, Addison had a dual major of economics and business management, and together, they’d helped each other graduate with honors.

  Sophie, now thirty-one, was one of the best-known attorneys in the city, and if Addison had to pinpoint her best weapon, it would be her appearance. Small in stature, blond with big blue eyes, prominent cheekbones, and a voice that registered a bit on the high side, Sophie tended to snow just about everybody. Nobody ever expected her to be a badass. She was the epitome of cute, and people had a way of making instant assumptions based on appearance. It was only when Sophie was ripping out their jugular while they were on the stand that they realized what a fatal mistake they’d made in assuming her appearance had anything to do with how she did her job.

  The waitress came over with a glass of red. She was friendly, her dark ponytail swinging behind her, an inviting smile on her face. She grinned at Sophie as she set the glass in front of Addison, and with a cock of her head in Addison’s direction, said, “She made it.”

  “She did,” Sophie replied. “Thanks, Bridget.”

  Addison blinked as the waitress left. “What just happened?”

  “I ordered a glass of wine for you ahead of time so you wouldn’t have to wait. Or make a decision.” With a nod toward the wine, she said, “Drink. You’ll like it.”

  The only reason Addison didn’t argue was because Sophie knew her that well. One sip proved her right: the wine was delicious, a rich blend of cherries and pepper on the front…something earthier on the back. She hummed her approval.

  “So.” Sophie propped her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “You look like shit, Fairchild. What’s going on with you?”

  “Jesus, are we doing this again?”

  The stand-off across the table was not their first and it certainly wouldn’t be their last. Sophie usually backed down first. Ninety percent of the time, Addison won these things. But not this time. Sophie’s blue eyes held hers and she let her head tilt a bit to the side—a gesture she used on juries all the time when making a salient point.

  “Come on, Soph. Not after the day I’ve had. My phone rang off the hook. I expected to fire one employee and I lost two instead, one that will be hard to replace at this time of year. And I threw up in the ladies’ room while reading about what a bitch I am on the stall wall.”

  “Again?”

  Addison saw her mistake too late. She shouldn’t have mentioned the part about getting sick and tried to backpedal. “No big deal. I think I ate something that didn’t agree with me.”

  “Yeah, I’d believe that if you ever ate.” Sophie narrowed her eyes. “You need to see a doctor, Addie. Get checked out. You’ve lost weight. You never feel well. You’re getting sick on a regular basis. You don’t eat. You don’t sleep. You live on coffee. None of this is good. You know this, yes?”

  The bubbling in her gut began to boil. The wine didn’t help. “I don’t need this today, Sophie. I already have a mom, thank you.”

  Sophie’s right eye twitched. That was the only way Addison could tell she’d hit a nerve, and she was immediately sorry but couldn’t bring herself to say so. Sophie looked away and took a sip of her wine, while Addison used the moment to calm her heated blood and choose her words.

  “Look. I appreciate your concern. I do. I love you for it. But it’s not necessary. I’m fine. Am I stressed out? God, yes. What else is new? We’re rewriting the leases, Hammerhead needs new roofs on all the buildings, maintenance has a skeleton crew right now, and my mom is going to retire after the first of the year.”

  Sophie’s head snapped back around at that news. “She is?”

  Addison nodded, sipped.

  “Finally. I didn’t think she ever would.”

  “Me neither.”

  Sophie brought her glass to her lips, drank without taking her eyes off Addison. Addison hated when she did that. Sophie Bennett had crazy intense eye contact, which she used on witnesses for her opposition when she thought they were lying on the stand or when she was trying to suss out something they weren’t saying. It took every ounce of energy Addison had to keep from squirming in her chair and looking away in guilt. She saw the moment Sophie figured it out; her eyes widened just a touch and she sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest.

  “One of you is taking over for her.”

  She didn’t need clarification, but Addison gave it anyway. “Yes. Most likely me or one of my siblings. I suppose there’s an off chance she’ll tap one of the guys who has been with her since the beginning—maybe Jack or Robert—but they’re both the same age as her, and I imagine they want to retire as well.”

  Sophie leaned her forearms on the table. “So it’s most likely you, Katrina, or Jared.”

  Addison nodded.

  “And you want it to be you.”

  “Absolutely.” Addison sat back, sipped her wine. “It should be me. I’m the oldest. Jared doesn’t have enough experience. Katrina…” She let the sentence dangle. Her little sister was her real competition, and while she was reasonably sure the job would be hers, she couldn’t deny that Katrina was a savvy businesswoman. She shrugged in an effort to highlight how very nonchalant about it she was. Yup. Totally cool. No big deal. “People like her.”

  Sophie looked like she was going to delve into that. She actually opened her mouth, apparently thought better of it, closed it again. After a sip of wine, she completely changed the subject. “Tell me about your terrible day.”

  Grateful for the shift, Addison rehashed her issues with Kyle and Jerrika. “I looked the other way for a while, but when they got caught in the supply closet…” She shook her head. “A couple people complained, and with all the headlines about sexual harassment lately, there was no way I could get away with doing nothing.”

  Sophie grimaced. “So, she went, I assume? She’s only be
en there a short time, right?”

  Addison blew out a breath. “Yeah, that’s how I thought it would go. But then Kyle went all Knight in Shining Armor and quit on me.”

  “Huh.” A ghost of a smile played across Sophie’s lips.

  “What?”

  Lifting one shoulder, Sophie asked, “Don’t you think that’s kind of romantic, though? That he stood up for his girl like that?”

  Addison rolled her eyes. “Now is not the time for chivalry. He had a good job. Decent pay. Benefits. Christmas bonus coming up in a month.”

  “He was following his heart.”

  “Or his dick.”

  Sophie snorted a laugh. “My best friend, the pessimist.”

  “I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist. Big difference.”

  “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” Sophie said and finished her wine. “Think he’ll be back?”

  “I don’t. He was pretty pissed.” Addison wasn’t looking forward to replacing him, but she’d figure it out.

  They caught up on the rest of life over a second glass of wine and a shared cheese board, and when Sophie glanced at her iPhone, her eyebrows went up. “I’ve gotta get home,” she said. “I’ve got depositions tomorrow I’m not ready for. You good?”

  Addison nodded and decided not to mention that over the past several minutes, she’d felt that same pain in her stomach and a light-headedness that was new in its intensity. She hoped it would just pass, as such things usually did, but when she stood from her chair, it was as though she’d lost all feeling in her legs and she collapsed to her knees before she even knew it was happening. Vaguely, she heard Sophie say her name, but it seemed so far away, and like she was underwater. She wasn’t sure which of them was underwater, though. Was it her? Was it Sophie? Why couldn’t she seem to answer this simple question?

  And then the answer didn’t matter because everything went black.

  Chapter Two

  “I’m telling you, Jack, that girl is going to be the death of me.”

  Samantha couldn’t see Meredith Fairchild, but she could hear the concern in her voice even from the other side of the office wall. It wasn’t the concern of a boss or even that of a friend. It was the concern of a mother, and Samantha could detect the tiniest bit of panic in the worried tone.

  Samantha Morgan was the direct admin to Jack Saunders and had been for the past two years. Jack had worked for Meredith for nearly twenty years, and when his long-term secretary had finally retired, Sam had somehow, against all odds, gotten the job. She’d wanted it badly; working for Fairchild Enterprises was a big deal. And a good one. Excellent pay. Even better benefits. A management team made up of good, hardworking people who did a ton of charity work in the name of their employer. Sam worked her ass off to prove herself worthy of her position, and luckily, she excelled at her job. Over the past twenty-four months, she’d made herself indispensable, and in the process, she and Jack had become almost friends. He was like a second father to her…or maybe a favorite uncle. His trust in her grew and he gave her more and more responsibility, which she took on happily. Now? Jack barely knew what day it was without Sam to remind him.

  As she sat at her desk outside Jack’s office, she listened through the wall and the open door.

  “What did her doctor say?” Jack’s deep voice. He, too, sounded concerned. Not surprising, as he’d known Meredith’s children since they were all still in school. He was probably like an uncle to them, too.

  “Not her doctor. The emergency room doctor. Sophie had to take her to the damn hospital. She’s got an ulcer. She’s way too stressed. Her heart rate was through the roof. She’s lost another six pounds…” Meredith’s voice broke and Sam felt her own heart constrict at the sound. “She works so damned hard, Jack. I don’t know how to get her to ease up.”

  “Addison’s always been this way, Mere.”

  “I know.”

  There was silence for several moments, and Samantha prayed the phone wouldn’t ring. She felt slightly guilty eavesdropping. But only slightly.

  “I think we revisit the personal assistant idea,” Jack said.

  “We tried that. She refused.” Meredith was obviously annoyed by that. “You know how damn stubborn she is.”

  “Like mother, like daughter.” The affection in Jack’s voice was easily heard.

  “Ha ha. She’ll never agree to it.”

  “So we make it mandatory.”

  A beat of silence passed before Meredith said, “You mean…require it?”

  “You’re the boss.”

  “I am, aren’t I?” Jack must have nodded because Meredith went on. “How do you suggest we find such a person?”

  That was all Samantha needed to hear.

  * * *

  The school bus pulled up to the bus stop and, not for the first time, Katie Cooper marveled at how much bigger it seemed than she remembered. She knew it was an illusion because of how very small Simon and Noah were, but still, she found herself thinking, were they always such behemoths? Even when I rode one? She knew the answer was yes, but she asked the question every day anyway.

  She felt Noah’s little hand tighten its grip inside hers. He was nervous again, and Katie tightened her own fingers to reassure him. Squatting down to meet his blue eyes—which were slightly wider than usual—she brushed his white-blond hair off his forehead.

  “Hey,” she said quietly. “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to have a great time at school. Remember how much fun you had yesterday?”

  He nodded but looked uncertain.

  “It’s going to be like that again, but probably even better. You’ll make stuff and you’ll play with cool toys and I can’t wait to hear all about it tomorrow. Okay?”

  He nodded again, and it was obvious how hard he was trying to be brave, tears welling in his big blue eyes but not spilling over. Holding his other hand was his twin brother, Simon, who had no qualms whatsoever about getting on the bus. “Come on, Noah,” he said, trying to be patient and failing as he gave his brother’s hand a tug.

  Katie shifted her stance so she could grab Simon’s face with both hands. She placed a kiss on his cheek, then whispered in his ear, “Do me a favor. Go easy on your brother, okay, buddy? Look out for him. Can you do that for me?”

  Simon nodded enthusiastically because he loved being given things to do for Katie and she knew it.

  She did the same thing with Noah—took his little, frightened face in both hands and kissed his cheek. “You’re going to have such a good day.”

  He nodded once more—Katie had learned it was his go-to when he was trying not to cry—and allowed his brother to tug him onto the bus.

  The bus monitor, a woman in her sixties, gave Katie a reassuring smile and mouthed I’ve got them, which Katie greatly appreciated.

  The twins found their seat and waved out the window at Katie as the bus pulled away. She waved back, her heart squeezing in her chest as if the boys had come from her own womb. They’d been going to pre-K for nearly two months now, but she still got teary as she watched them head off on their own.

  A ding sounded from her back pocket, indicating a text, and she was glad for the distraction.

  Still looking for a second job?

  It was from Sam. Katie typed back.

  Yep.

  Sam’s reply came almost instantly, as if she wasn’t even waiting for Katie to answer.

  Can you meet me tonight at 5:30? Jade’s. I think I can help.

  Well. That was intriguing. Katie sent back a reply saying she’d be there, then headed into the Anderson house to clean things up before she left.

  The scent of peanut butter still hung in the air in the gourmet kitchen, remnants of the twins’ lunch they’d had just before school. They were in the afternoon class, which worked better for Katie because, once she got them onto the bus, she was able to go home and help her mother for a while. She’d had a job she loved as an account executive at a tech company, but when she’d inquired about shifting her position
to part-time in order to help her parents when her father became ill, she’d been denied, which had surprised her. And stung, if she was being honest. Evidently, they didn’t love her in her job as much as she liked being there. She’d started nannying the twins in July, their mother working in the mornings and then relieving Katie in the afternoons. Now that they were in school for half a day, she missed them, which was a bit puzzling, as she hadn’t missed them when their mother came home and she left them during the summer. Maybe it was actually putting them on a bus, sending them off to school, out into the real world, that felt so very different from leaving them with their mother. She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that watching the bus drive away with them each day was more emotionally wrenching than she’d expected it to be.

  Gathering her things, she locked the house and drove her eleven-year-old Honda home. Well, to her parents’ house. No, home. She still hadn’t gotten used to that. She’d left the apartment she’d shared with Samantha a month ago and moved back to her parents’ house in order to help out, financially as well as physically.

  Dementia was a horrible, horrible thing.

  It had only been a year, but David Cooper had developed early-onset dementia caused by Alzheimer’s and Katie was often shocked by how quickly her father seemed to be…disappearing. He’d gone from being a gentle, funny, loving man to somebody who was anxious, confused, or angry much of the time, often all three at once. Sometimes he was fine. Almost his usual, normal self. Other times—and often mere minutes after seeming to be fine—he would explode in anger. Or worse, he’d dissolve into tears. Katie was often left feeling like her head was spinning and she had no clue what to do. This was their new normal. And it was devastating most of the time.

  In the driveway, parked behind her father’s Toyota that he no longer drove, Katie turned off the engine and sat. Collected herself. It was new and necessary, this pause before entering the house she grew up in. This steeling herself. Bracing. Because that’s what it was: bracing. Katie had learned to brace herself before going inside because the reality was, she never knew what she was going to walk into. Would he be sleeping peacefully? Had he had a good morning, and therefore, Katie’s mother would seem the tiniest bit less stressed out than usual? Or had it been a horrendous morning that left her mother haggard and frazzled, her father violent and angry? Would he be happily watching television? Or throwing things across the living room?