My daydream continues unfolding in my mind as I insert the key into my lock and open the door. Suddenly, I’m jarred into my real life.

“Hey, Lia!” Tatiana screams over the blaring Beyoncé.

She’s stirring a wooden spoon in a pot, and the whole house smells heavenly. My mouth waters, knowing it’s chicken marsala. I realize I don’t need a man—I’ve got Tatiana. She knows me best anyway.

“What made you cook?” I toss my bag and keys onto the stool and then weave past the island to meet her.

She takes the spoon out of the pot and positions it in front of my face. “Taste.”

Steam rises from the light-brown sauce, and I blow on the mushroom to cool it down before my lips tentatively cover the spoon. My eyes close, and I inhale a deep breath from the skill of my talented roommate. “So good.”

She smiles and stirs it again. Sorting through the stack of mail, I spot my credit card bill, and my gut clenches when I remember that shopping spree two weeks ago. That cute outfit for Saturday night doesn’t seem worth it now. Thank goodness the tips at CHOPs have been steady. It’s a profitable bar, and I need to make sure I don’t jeopardize my job.

I climb on the breakfast barstool and watch Tatiana comfortably move around the kitchen. Her confidence in everything she does always amazes me.

“So, when did your dad drop off the food? Or was he here all day, cooking it?”

She whips around and places her hand over her heart, as though I’ve offended her. A boisterous laugh erupts. Pointing the wooden spoon at me, she says, “You know me too well, Amelia Fiore.”

“I’ve known you since the ninth grade, and you can make five things. Chicken marsala isn’t one of them.”

“Hey now, I try new things. There was that one time I made the flan for Spanish class, remember?”

We both laugh.

“You are talking about the hard brick of substance resembling tofu, right?”

“It was beautiful.” Her lips pout, and her shoulders slump.

If I didn’t know her so well, I’d think I’d upset her.

“No, it wasn’t, Tatiana.”

Her eyes peek up at me, and a small smile sneaks out. “It really was awful.”

I hop down from the stool and place my arm around her shoulders. “You have far better talents than cooking. Let’s leave the kitchen to Todd.”

She nods, and I move to grab some bowls while she finds a bottle of wine. We go about our routine as though we were a married couple. Tatiana knows everything about me and accepts me fully. I was lucky to find her wandering, lost in the halls, our freshman year of high school. We’ve been inseparable ever since.

“So, tell me about CHOPs.”

I sigh.

“What? Spill it. I’m in desperate need to get out of my own life right now.”

“It’s my boss, Davis Morgan.” I place the bowls next to the stove.

Tatiana hands me the ladle. “That guy from that cooking-contest show? He’s hot.” Her eyes widen, and she shakes her body.

“Yeah, and he’s my boss. I can’t help but think he’s been flirting with me, like he wants more than an employee-boss relationship.”

She glances over to me as the corkscrew pops the wine bottle open. I know what she’s thinking.

I debate in my head if I should even tell her about Todd’s proposition last week.

“Stay away, Lia. You need the money, and it’d never end good.”

I sigh again and take our bowls to the table. Then, I slump over the counter, watching her fill two wine glasses.

“It’s hard, Tati. Men like Davis Morgan aren’t exactly lined up outside the door for me. Hell, no men are within a five-mile radius.” I lay my head down in my arms.

“Lia, you are beautiful, and one day, a prince is going to waltz up to that door and knock. You’ll know he’s the one you’re supposed to be with.”

I peek up at her. “I’m starting to think you live in Fairytale Land.”

Her jaw clenches, and her face stiffens. “You are worth so much more than you think. Davis would be lucky to have you. I just think it’s a bad idea to date your boss.” She picks up the wine glasses and ventures over to the table.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so down. It’s nice, though. When he flirts, my whole body reacts—my heart races, my skin pricks—and all I want is more.”

She comes back over to the counter, placing her hands on my upper arms. “I know, Lia, but it’s my duty to warn you. That’s all. If you decide to date him, then I want to hear all the juicy details, too.”

She smiles, and I return one.

“Thank you.”

Her arms tightly squeeze around me as she hugs me in to her. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s eat. My dad didn’t want it to go cold, and he dropped it off an hour ago. I had to stir it forever until you got home.”

I laugh and follow her to the table as I wish her confidence would rub off on me a little.

CHAPTER FOUR

Todd

I love running at night, but Saturdays don’t have nearly the same serene streets as the weekdays. My first Saturday off in months, and my foster mom, Carol, has asked me to come over for a talk, not that I cared about that.

My footsteps halt at the cracked steps up to the only house that has ever felt close to a home. That’s not saying much because Jim, my foster dad, never made it very homey. He wasn’t a terrible father figure, more of an absent one. He never cared what I did as long as it didn’t interfere with his television at the end of the day. Still, he took me in, fed me, and most of all, didn’t hit me like the other ‘good Samaritan’ foster parents.

“Well, are you going to come and give me a hug or stand there all night?” Carol says through the darkness of the porch.

“You and Jim going on a trip?” I slowly climb the steps with the feeling that something bad is about to happen. Think of it as a foster kid’s intuition.

Carol and Jim have only been to Niagara Falls, and that was before I entered their lives. They don’t do vacations, and it’s easy to know that from the giant plaid suitcase propped at her feet.

Her frail arms wrap me in a hug, and she inhales a big whiff. “I missed you.”

“You missed the smell of sweat?”

We draw back from one another and my stomach twists seeing the sadness in her eyes.

“You, silly.” She smacks my arm, and the smile falls from her face.

“I’m here.”

I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t come around often. Usually, I meet Carol out at a restaurant, or she comes over to my apartment. They aren’t a warm, cozy family. Hell, I’ve never even met extended family members.

A dark sedan pulls up along the curb, and Carol waves.

I do a double-take and look back at her. “Is that your ride or something?” I bring my shirt up to wipe the sweat off my face.

“Yeah.”

The shirt falls from my grasp and sticks to my wet stomach. “Are you going to Bingo?” That bad feeling worsens.

Her hand lands on my forearm. “Listen, sweetie, I’m leaving Jim. You might not understand this now, but I need to do something for myself. I need you to do one thing.”

I hold up my palm to stop her. “Whoa. Does Jim know?”

“I wrote him a letter. He’ll get it tomorrow, but—”

“Carol, you can’t do this.” If I were younger, tears would be breaking, but I’m numb to the abandonment now.

“Please, just check in on him over the next few days.” She squeezes my arm.

What the hell? I get why she’s leaving. Jim doesn’t do romance. He never bought her flowers or jewelry. Hell, I remember for one of her birthdays, he took her to the Lions Club, but damn, he deserves to be told face-to-face that his wife of forever is leaving him.

“Carol.”

“I just wanted to say good-bye. You don’t need me anymore.”

She pulls me in for a tight and fierce hug then drags her suitcase down the stairs.

“Carol,” I plead over the thumping of her suitcase hitting each step.

The car door squeaks through the dark street, and she swings her suitcase into the old car. “I’ll call you. I love you, Todd.”