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“Nope. I’m what they call a nomad. I don’t stay in one place for more than a few years.” She hauled her purse strap over her shoulder. “Gets boring.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Listen, I run the banquet hall off Leming Street. We specialize in weddings and events. I’ll give you my card in case you’re looking for some work,” she told me. “We hire on a few extra photographers during the busy season. Assistant jobs, mostly, but the pay is competitive.”

My eyes popped at the invitation, my pulse stuttering. “Really?”

“If you can handle the heat. It’s a ruthless line of work, and some prefer to capture the Annies of the world. But if you’re open to it, I’d love to bring you in for an interview.” Monique reached into her front pocket and pulled out a small rectangular card, handing it to me.

“Thank you,” I breathed out, glancing at the cursive lettering. “That’s kind of you.”

“I’m a peach when I want to be. But peaches go sour, and you don’t want to be standing in the line of fire when Becky the Bride has a meltdown and tries to harass me into a full refund because her wedding flowers weren’t the exact shade of blush she envisioned.” She snorted a laugh. “I mean, seriously? I’ve navigated flower markets with military precision, battling unpredictable bloom seasons, only to be taken down by the wrath of a bride who swears the difference between ‘blush’ and ‘bashful’ ruined her entire day.”

I cringed, biting my lip.

“Anyway, if your cup of tea includes a few shots of whiskey, maybe you’ll work out.”

Laughing softly, I bobbed my head, sliding the card into my back pocket. “Honestly, I’ve made it through worse things,” I assured her.

“Yeah.” Her soulful eyes gave me a full sweep. “Something tells me maybe you have.”

We shared another smile before Monique retreated, sending a wave over her shoulder.

“See you around, Halley.”

“Bye,” I called back, just as Tara bounded down the cement steps with her mother on her heels.

Tara jogged over to me in the grass, a lollipop secured between her teeth and cheek. “This is the one,” she said with a squeal.

“Yeah?” My eyes brightened, skipping over to Whitney. “We’re getting it?”

“I just paid the security deposit. You move in next month.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Oh, my God,” Tara parroted with double the enthusiasm. “I am so ready for this.”

We leaped at each other, spinning around in the grass, our hair flying in every direction as Annie fluttered from the nest and soared skyward over the treetops.

An apartment with my best friend.

A potential new job.

A down payment for a junky car stuffed in the top drawer of my nightstand.

Things were falling into place, finally—a rarity in my once dismal, directionless life.

Without a mother’s warm embrace, I had Whitney.

Without a sibling to confide in, I had Tara.

As for a real boyfriend to share the triumph…well, that was missing.

So the minute we arrived home, I jumped from the car, raced through the front door, and picked up the phone to call Scotty.

My heart was being held together with taffy and floss, my bones made of parchment paper.

As excited as I was, I wasn’t ready.