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“I get it,” I say. “Let me think tonight. I promise not to make you wait.”
She nods. “Gotta go, but let’s talk tomorrow.” Disappointment covers her face.
“Okay. Love you, Georgy.” That pulls a smile from her. “And thank you.”
We end the call, and I make myself some toast and cereal. Indian food was hours ago, and I never got dinner. The smell of butter drifts through the air, and I wonder if Adam is cooking for Dakota. That would be just like him, to cook a meal for the woman who broke his heart when she appears again out of nowhere.
While my toast cooks, I go to my office window. Adam’s truck is in the driveway, but not other cars. Dakota had to get here somehow. I crane my neck to get a better view of the street. If there’s not a car parked at the curb, maybe I’ll text Adam. See if he wants to talk.
But then I see the car parked at the curb that was there when Adam and I drove up. It has to be Dakota’s. She’s still here.
I won’t be talking to Adam tonight.
Chapter 40
Adam
After I lead Dakota inside, I do the only thing I can think to do. I offer to feed her. “I haven’t had dinner,” I tell her. “I could make us something.”
“Sure. That would be great.” She peels off her coat and sits at my kitchen counter without offering to help. “If you happen to have any chicken pie, I’d love that. I’ve missed it.”
I nod and stop myself from asking if she’s missed me, too. “I have the stuff at the Garden. Do you mind going over there?” The dish takes time to make, and I hardly ever make it for myself anymore. It was Dakota’s favorite, not mine, so I never have the ingredients at home.
Her face pinches with annoyance, then smooths. “Yeah, that’s fine. Sorry. I thought you’d have the stuff here, or I would have asked for something else.” She slips her coat back on, even though there’s still time to ask for something else.
“Not a problem. Bear might still be there. I asked him to do some prep work for tomorrow. You can say hi.”
She hesitates like she might change her mind.
“He’s not mad at you, Dakota. It will be fine.” I put my hand on her back to lead her to the door, but it doesn’t fit there like it used to.
“What about Zach? Is he still mad at me?” she asks as we face the cold again.
“What do you mean? When was he mad at you?” I hold her elbow so she doesn’t slip. She’s wearing high-heeled leather boots, even though she should know better. This isn’t New York. There’s no one to impress.
“Are you kidding me? He never told you he called and cursed me out after I left?”
“No. I asked him if he’d told you to leave. He said yes. There hasn’t been much to talk about since then.” Saying out loud what he did doesn’t set me on fire like it used to. It still burns, but only a little.
I unlock the Garden and let Dakota go in first. The lights are all off, and I’m relieved Bear isn’t there. Or Seb. There was always the chance they’d practice without me.
“I guess he didn’t like the way I left.” Dakota stops and scans the whole restaurant. “You’ve done a lot to this place. It looks great.”
“Thanks.” I take her coat and hang it on the old rack that’s been there since my mom’s dad opened this place.
“Are you making any money with it yet?” She runs her fingers over the window casing I put in myself.
“A little.” Money has always been more important to Dakota than to me. Maybe because she always had plenty of it.
My family never did, but we were fine. I never saw lots of money make anyone happier than those who had just enough of it. Dakota’s family took more vacations than my family did, but she always seemed more at ease around my family.
“You want to come back to the kitchen with me?” I ask her.
She glances behind me into what she can see of the kitchen. “I’ve got some emails to answer—I kind of took off without any notice.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “Do you mind?”
I shake my head. I don’t mind. Dakota always made it more difficult for me to cook. She wanted to talk, but I’d get too focused on what I was doing. I can’t concentrate on anything else besides what I’m doing when I cook. That always made Dakota mad. She’d want to tell me all the drama that had gone on at work, and I’d zone out.
I spend the next twenty minutes preparing the tarteletter and thinking about everything that happened today. I’m still mad at Evie for not being upfront with me about the Instagram and Georgia’s project. But the fact I’m thinking more about Evie than Dakota when Dakota is only twenty feet away says something.
