She stepped back and gestured to his see-through shirt and her bare legs. “I have this and a formal gown,” she reminded him.
“Personally, I like this.”
She wrinkled her nose at him and he laughed. “Fine. Go shower. I’ll give you a heavier shirt and a pair of sweats and socks to go back to the hotel in. You can change and then we’ll go for breakfast. Better?”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
A few minutes later, she’d shut herself in his bathroom and turned on the shower, while he lowered himself onto his bed and groaned, running a hand through his already messed-up hair.
He meant what he’d said a few minutes earlier. He didn’t have any real answers for the future, but he’d just bought himself twenty-four hours with Lissa.
For now, that was enough.
Chapter Five
Still stunned by their heart-to-heart and the fact that Trevor wasn’t letting her just leave, Lissa found herself sitting across from him at a small crepe place he said he enjoyed. She ordered an apple cinnamon crepe and they ate in a silence that was oddly companionable, considering the safe world she lived in had crumbled around her. She was facing interminable heartache and yet here she was, sitting across from him anyway.
“So what are your immediate job plans?” he asked.
She patted her mouth with the napkin and met his gaze. “Well, after I interview you, I have to go home and get to work on Ethan Barron. Do you remember him?”
He nodded. “My sister told me he came back to town after ten years, bought the Harrington estate, married Faith Harrington, and surprised the hell out of everyone in town by being a millionaire.”
“After his parents died and he disappeared, everyone thought he’d end up in jail ... or worse.”
“Helluva story for you to write, though,” Trevor said. “Then what?”
Lissa shrugged. “So far it’s been freelance. I’m hoping something permanent will come up, but even this way I’m making more money than I was at Cuppa Café and writing the town obits.” She lifted her coffee cup and took a long sip.
“Which means you aren’t committed to staying in Serendipity because of your work?” he asked.
Her hands began to shake and she grasped her coffee cup for something to hold on to. “Serendipity is my home,” she said, hoarsely. It was her security. “My family is there. My friends ...” Hard-earned friends, she might have added. Because Lissa didn’t let people in easily. In fact, she was better at driving them away. “Livvy’s life is there.”
Trevor shot her a knowing look, one that said he knew she was panicking. “Who are your friends these days?” he asked, smoothly changing the subject.
She didn’t know why, but she was grateful not to have to think beyond right now. “You’re really interested?”
Again, that knowing yet patient look crossed his face. “How else can I get to know you again?” he asked.
She sighed and shook her head, unable to deny him even the simplest of answers, even if he wouldn’t like what he learned about her. “For awhile, I was lucky I had friends,” she admitted. “I was unhappy, Trevor. Around Livvy I put up a good front, but when I wasn’t? I was a raving bitch to most people.” She couldn’t meet his gaze, not proud of the woman she’d become for a while.
“Unhappiness can drain you.”
He sounded like he understood, but she still couldn’t look at him. “I’m lucky Kate Andrews decided she liked me. She’d come into the coffee shop, buy herself something, and hang out at the counter, talking to me when it was quiet and I wasn’t serving.”
“Kate ...” he said as if trying to place her.
“Long, reddish-brown hair, best friends with Faith Harrington,” she said, to jog his memories of their high school days.
He nodded. “I remember her. She was always outgoing. Nice.”
“And persistent,” Lissa said, wrinkling her nose at the memory. “She insisted I leave Livvy with my mom and come to Joe’s with her and her friends on Wednesday nights. It’s still Ladies Night. Soon Wednesdays became a ritual, and so did book club once a month. We rotate houses.” She shrugged. “After spending most of my time holed up in the house, eventually I had friends again.” She smiled at the thought of her small clique. “There’s Kate and some other girls from high school, Stacy Garner and Tanya Santos.” And now she even considered Faith Harrington one, too.
“And then Faith came back and your career took off ...” he said, as if reading her mind.
Lissa shook her head. “It wasn’t quite that simple.” Drawing a deep breath, she recounted to Trevor how godawful rude she’d been to Faith on her return to Serendipity.
“When Faith got together with Ethan, I took great pleasure in reminding her that though he could wrap a woman around his finger, he didn’t know the first thing about sticking around.” She winced at the reminder, knowing she’d said far worse to Faith—and God, she regretted it.