breaking into the school and taking her lessons, she felt a sense of power she hadn’t experienced in, well, forever.
“Could you give me a hand while we debate about your future?” Sam asked, putting the duster away. She was still struggling to get back on her feet after the bead shop debacle, and couldn’t afford to hire help, so Layla did what she could, as did her brothers. Sam had borrowed money from them to get this new shop started, and was bound and determined not to screw up again.
“I can give you a few hours, and we don’t need to discuss my future. I’m going to summer school unless the perfect job appears, which, given the current economic climate, is highly unlikely.”
“I agree,” Sam said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I have some dresses in the back that need steaming and a couple boxes of lingerie to put on hangers.”
Layla set her purse behind the counter and headed to the back room to turn on the steamer.
“I wonder if Derek or Eric got a reunion planning invite?” Sam said musingly, unfolding the letter once again. Since she’d been born a mere ten months after the twins, they were all in the same graduation class. Sam and the boys were practically triplets. Layla had always been the odd child out. By age. By temperament.
Nothing she could change about the age, but the temperament…yes, she’d be doing some work in that area.
“I can ask Justin if he got one next time I see him.” He’d graduated the same year as Sam—one year after Layla—and he and Sam had run with the same rowdy crowd.
“Why on earth would you be seeing Justin?” Sam called from the other room.
“We went out a couple nights ago.”
“Like on a date?”
Layla was not telling Sam about the school. She wasn’t going to tell anyone she’d done something of questionable legality. “I stopped by his place to tell him I’d gotten fired, and he took me out for a beer.”
“Justin,” Sam said, as Layla came out from behind the beaded curtains. “Tremont. The guy you wanted to fire from a cannon when we were younger?”
Layla felt unexpectedly self-conscious. “That’s the one.”
“That doesn’t seem right.”
“May I point out that you’re the person responsible for us getting together again after all these years?”
“That was because of an emergency.” Sam pushed her hair away from her cheek with a distracted gesture.
“Regardless of why, somehow…well…things have changed.”
“How?” Sam demanded.
She wasn’t ready to share all the details. Not just yet. “Maybe we’re just looking at each other differently.”
“Like… differently differently?” her sister asked with a significant lift of her eyebrows.
“In a way.”
But instead of laughing, as Sam always did when confronted with an unexpected twist in life, she went quiet. So quiet that Layla said, “What?”
She gave a quick shake of her head. “Nothing. Just, well, you know that Justin is never serious about anything.”
Layla simply stared at her sister for a moment. Sam was trying to keep her from being hurt. As if Justin could possibly hurt her.
She gave a soft snort. “Trust me, Sam. I’m not looking for anything serious. I’ve done serious for way too long. It sucks.”
All she wanted to do was to shake off her tight-assed tendencies, and Justin seemed like the man to help her.
“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU lately?” Eden asked, coming into the pastry room, where Justin was arranging the dowels he’d be using to support the layers of a three-tier cake he’d be delivering the next day.
He gave her a mystified look. He’d been quiet and focused on his work, but, as far as he knew, not overtly troubled. “Nothing.”
Eden shook her head. “Okay, you’re working way too many hours.” She shifted her weight and folded her arms over her chest. “Which is normal, I
“Could you give me a hand while we debate about your future?” Sam asked, putting the duster away. She was still struggling to get back on her feet after the bead shop debacle, and couldn’t afford to hire help, so Layla did what she could, as did her brothers. Sam had borrowed money from them to get this new shop started, and was bound and determined not to screw up again.
“I can give you a few hours, and we don’t need to discuss my future. I’m going to summer school unless the perfect job appears, which, given the current economic climate, is highly unlikely.”
“I agree,” Sam said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I have some dresses in the back that need steaming and a couple boxes of lingerie to put on hangers.”
Layla set her purse behind the counter and headed to the back room to turn on the steamer.
“I wonder if Derek or Eric got a reunion planning invite?” Sam said musingly, unfolding the letter once again. Since she’d been born a mere ten months after the twins, they were all in the same graduation class. Sam and the boys were practically triplets. Layla had always been the odd child out. By age. By temperament.
Nothing she could change about the age, but the temperament…yes, she’d be doing some work in that area.
“I can ask Justin if he got one next time I see him.” He’d graduated the same year as Sam—one year after Layla—and he and Sam had run with the same rowdy crowd.
“Why on earth would you be seeing Justin?” Sam called from the other room.
“We went out a couple nights ago.”
“Like on a date?”
Layla was not telling Sam about the school. She wasn’t going to tell anyone she’d done something of questionable legality. “I stopped by his place to tell him I’d gotten fired, and he took me out for a beer.”
“Justin,” Sam said, as Layla came out from behind the beaded curtains. “Tremont. The guy you wanted to fire from a cannon when we were younger?”
Layla felt unexpectedly self-conscious. “That’s the one.”
“That doesn’t seem right.”
“May I point out that you’re the person responsible for us getting together again after all these years?”
“That was because of an emergency.” Sam pushed her hair away from her cheek with a distracted gesture.
“Regardless of why, somehow…well…things have changed.”
“How?” Sam demanded.
She wasn’t ready to share all the details. Not just yet. “Maybe we’re just looking at each other differently.”
“Like… differently differently?” her sister asked with a significant lift of her eyebrows.
“In a way.”
But instead of laughing, as Sam always did when confronted with an unexpected twist in life, she went quiet. So quiet that Layla said, “What?”
She gave a quick shake of her head. “Nothing. Just, well, you know that Justin is never serious about anything.”
Layla simply stared at her sister for a moment. Sam was trying to keep her from being hurt. As if Justin could possibly hurt her.
She gave a soft snort. “Trust me, Sam. I’m not looking for anything serious. I’ve done serious for way too long. It sucks.”
All she wanted to do was to shake off her tight-assed tendencies, and Justin seemed like the man to help her.
“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU lately?” Eden asked, coming into the pastry room, where Justin was arranging the dowels he’d be using to support the layers of a three-tier cake he’d be delivering the next day.
He gave her a mystified look. He’d been quiet and focused on his work, but, as far as he knew, not overtly troubled. “Nothing.”
Eden shook her head. “Okay, you’re working way too many hours.” She shifted her weight and folded her arms over her chest. “Which is normal, I
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