The Sisterhood Promise

by Susan Hatler

  “Well, I seriously doubt anything will make the situation worse,” I said.

  “True,” Brody said. He got a thoughtful look on his face, and then he added, “I’m really glad you asked me out for tonight. Saved me a trip over to ask you myself.”

  I giggled, gave him another kiss, then promised to see him later. I hurried back to where I parked Wendy’s Mercedes in front of the mansion, hopped in the driver’s seat, and then sped off down the road.

  No matter what happened with my career, I wanted things to work out with Brody. When I got home tonight, I’d take the retreat’s advice and do some journaling on the main question of the retreat: how could I be independent and still have a boyfriend?

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Market was especially busy when I arrived late morning. I hadn’t brought my uniform to the retreat, and I hadn’t had time to run home to get it, so I improvised with black pants and a white top. The on-duty manager frowned when she saw I wasn’t compliant, but ushered me to the seafood section.

  During a lull in customers, I sniffed my hair and shuddered. The scent had already set in the strands and I still had hours before I got off work. I hated that I’d return to the mansion smelling like fish. Ugh. Even worse, that stench permeated my skin and would sometimes last for days, which meant I’d smell like seafood during my dinner date with Brody. I grabbed a lemon wedge from the display, sliced it in half and squeezed a puddle of juice into my hand. Then I rubbed the lemon juice into my palms and sniffed. The lemon worked a miracle on my hands.

  Just as I was ruminating on the possibility of dousing myself in lemon juice before taking a shower, I caught a glimpse of Wendy weaving her way through the shoppers. I’d never been so happy to see a friendly face in my life. “Wendy!” I waved her over.

  “I got your text.” Wendy strolled toward my counter. She ran her hands through her dark bob, which fell perfectly back against her shoulders. “Why aren’t you at the retreat?”

  “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” I used a hushed voice since the on-duty manager seemed to be lurking nearby in the cereal aisle. “My boss called and ordered me into work. No excuses. Apparently, some people from the day shift got food poisoning, and I was the only one available.” I smiled at a patron who walked by with her cart, then turned back to Wendy, gripping the top of the glass counter. “I’m walking a professional tightrope, afraid the slightest move in the wrong direction will get me fired. And my mentor is having a breakdown.”

  “Greta?” Wendy asked. She leaned against the counter, pretending to examine the fish so I wouldn’t get in trouble for socializing. “You said she was the most together person you’d ever met in real life, present company excluded I hope.”

  Ignoring her joke, I leaned toward her. “Well, the scoop is that Greta used to date Scotty, of Scotty’s Seafood Restaurant.”

  Her face brightened. “Oh, I love that place! Max and I had one of our first dates there.”

  “I’m happy for you.” My tone was flat. “Sadly, their relationship didn’t go as well as yours. She broke up with Scotty but only did that because she thought he was cheating on her. Then she ran into him again at the retreat, which was kind of my fault, and all she’s been doing since is crying. She’s like a faucet without a shut off valve.” I shook my head. Stuck behind the counter, I couldn’t be sure she wasn’t still bawling. Poor Greta.

  “Yikes.” Wendy grimaced. “But she’s a grown woman. What can you do?”

  “We’ve been reading sections of her book to her, but that doesn’t seem to be helping. If I can’t fix Greta, then I can forget about running luxury retreats. With my luck, I’m going to smell like fish forever.” I groaned, dropping my forehead against the counter.

  “Oh, stop.” Wendy’s voice was firm. “Starting your own business is hard, but Olivia’s Occasions will grow, with or without Greta von Strand. You just need to give it some time.”

  “Do you really think so?” I asked, then watched her nod. Wendy would never lie, so her opinion meant a lot to me. “There’s more. Remember that bartender, Brody? We went out on a date last night, and had an amazing time.”

  She gave me a knowing look. “I suspected a connection between you two.”

  “Major sparkage,” I said, remembering the fireworks exploding inside me from our first kiss. Wowzers. “He’s also relaxed and funny. I come out of my shell around him, and can be silly without worrying he’ll think I’m lame. He seems to have a hard time opening up, but I can so relate to being closed off. He’s been through a lot of pain in his life.” My gaze drifted down. “But I think we balance each other out.”

  Wendy smiled. “You’ve got some real feelings for him, huh?”

  I nodded, and then groaned. “But he’s got his insanely beautiful ex-girlfriend staying with him at their house. She works with them as a firefighter at the firehouse.” When Wendy’s eyes widened, I added, “It’s a long story. Brody says nothing’s going on between them anymore. She was very flirty, though.” I held the sides of my head. “Everything’s happening so fast, my mind’s spinning.”

  “Do you think he seems trustworthy?” Wendy asked.

  “Yes, I do,” I said, immediately. Funny how I’d never felt that confident about Hunter.

  “Then trust your gut. If you’re not feeling any red flags, there probably aren’t any. Max travels for work sometimes, and I trust him completely.” Wendy smiled at me. “Simple as that.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying not to worry about Brody’s ex anymore. “I have to find a way to fix Greta, too.”

  “You can’t change the way Greta handles her life,” Wendy said. “All you can do is focus on making the retreat amazing. The rest will fall in line. Or not.” She raised one shoulder.

  “If being an innkeeper ever gets boring, you’d make a good life coach,” I said, smiling.

  “What can I say?” Wendy said. “I’ve missed my true calling in life.”

  “I’m also worried about my parents,” I whispered, as a co-worker walked by, shaking his head at me. I shrugged at him so he’d mind his own business. “I seriously don’t know how my dad’s going to feel from one minute to the next. My heart just breaks for him.”

  Wendy opened her mouth to say something when a blonde woman with a pixie face approached the counter. Piper Lewis. Just great. I could tell right away she was going to make my headache worse.

  “Olivia Lane!” Piper ran a hand through her silky blonde mane. “Twice in one week. What are the odds?”

  “Hi, Piper.” I mustered up as much enthusiasm as possible so she wouldn’t guess how much she drove me nuts. “How are you enjoying your new promotion?” I asked, figuring she’d bring it up anyway.

  “I’m loving my new office, which is super private and cozy.” She took a number out of the ticket machine sitting on the counter and handed it to me. “Oops, was this lady here before me?”

  “No, I’m just browsing.” Wendy took a step back, and waved her hand dismissively.

  “Lucky me.” Piper pointed through the glass at the halibut sitting all the way to her left on ice. “How fresh is that fish?” she asked.

  “We just got it in this morning,” I replied.

  Her nose wrinkled. “How does it smell?”

  “Smell? What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Olivia, you can tell a lot about fish from the way it smells,” she said, using a condescending tone. “I don’t want it to smell too fishy, you know?”

  I stared at her completely confused. What did she expect? It’s fish. “Well, I didn’t smell it up close, but they all smell pretty fish-fresh to me. This is the seafood section.”

  “Never mind.” Piper tapped her index finger against her chin. “Would you please give me two pounds of shrimp instead. Shrimp is so much easier to prepare, anyway.”

  I pulled out the brown butcher block paper and the scoop to get the shrimp, and gave her a smile that I hoped conveyed agreement with her,
although I had no idea what she was really talking about. To me, seafood all smelled the same.

  I was just finishing wrapping the shrimp when Piper made a noise. “I love shrimp, but salmon is so healthy for my heart. That’s what I should get. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

  I looked at her, and realized my life was just like her dilemma. I should be independent during this retreat, just like she knew she should eat salmon. But I’d fallen for Brody and all I wanted was to be with him, just like she wanted the shrimp.

  “Would you like me to put the shrimp back?” I asked, wondering if her answer would somehow solve my own dilemmas.

  She pursed her lips as she stared into the fish case. “No,” she said finally. “I’ll take both.”

  I wrapped up her order, giving her my employee discount on the sticker. She thanked me and left, with a wave of her French-manicured fingers. She’d taken both. Maybe that was a sign that I could be both independent and have a man. I rolled my eyes. Sadly, my life had come down to comparing my dating choices according to someone’s seafood purchases.

  Brody would be a hot lobster in my book. Yum.

  Wendy returned, but then left to do some shopping of her own. She said she’d be back by in a bit. As I watched her go, I felt thankful she’d encouraged me to trust Brody. He’d never given me any reason not to believe in him.

  I was cleaning up the counter when I caught sight of Taylor, Brody’s ex, coming into the store. She wore a workout outfit as if she’d just returned from a yoga class. Her toned body reminded me of those extra pounds that I’d gained on this retreat. I so couldn’t wear anything tight like her outfit or I’d have bulges everywhere. Sigh.

  Taylor put a few things in her cart, passed the deli section, then arrived at my counter. She looked perfect, her blond hair falling in relaxed waves over her shoulders. I felt lame with my hair pulled back in a bun and a hairnet.

  I swallowed. “May I help you?”

  “Hi,” Taylor said, smiling at me, and her teeth were perfectly white and straight. Didn’t the woman have one single flaw?

  “I need two lobster tails,” she said, glancing at her cell phone.

  “Two lobsters, got it,” I replied, wondering if she recognized me from the beach. If so, she certainly wasn’t acting like she’d met me before. “Do you want to pick them out or would you like me to choose them?”

  “Oh, you can. I don’t really care,” she said, typing into her phone.

  “Okay, sure,” I said. My stomach clenched. I told myself I was being paranoid. Still, I somehow blurted, “Something special planned for these guys?”

  She glanced up from her cell and smiled. “A romantic dinner for two. My ex and I are getting back together, so I want to prepare a special meal for him. He loves lobster.”

  My stomach dropped and emotional pain hit me like a tidal wave. Brody was getting back together with his ex? Since this morning? Wow—that man worked fast. I clamped my teeth together to keep from telling her that Brody had passed on lobster tails in lieu of salmon last night, thank you very much. But I didn’t correct her. I just wanted her to leave. So I thrust the bag into her hands, then turned away quickly.

  Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them away. I trusted Brody. Although one date didn’t exactly mean we were exclusive. Could he be interested in seeing other people? No, wait, Taylor couldn’t be having dinner with Brody tonight because he was having dinner with me. There must be some other explanation. Still, my tummy bubbled with worry. What if I was wrong?

  Chapter Nineteen

  When I returned to the mansion after my day at The Market, I made an appearance at the retreat’s dinner straight away. Janine assured me everything had gone smoothly, and nobody had commented on my absence. She also told me Greta had taken a shower and dressed in a clean outfit. She hadn’t joined the others for the event, but she’d eaten a little food and was now in her room reading Men: Who Needs Them? from the beginning. Progress.

  Janine suddenly wrinkled her nose and asked me if I’d been cleaning a fish tank. I sighed, told her no, then left the room and hurried down the hall toward my room. Nobody asked me such questions after a day of work at the luxury women’s retreat.

  I still had an hour before my date with Brody, so I ran a bath with extra bubbles, excited to use my new lemon-scented body wash to help drown out the smell of fish on my skin. I slipped into the hot water, hoping the bath would soothe me as I closed my eyes. Working at The Market again had been awful. And seeing Piper reminded me that she’d moved on from her first job, whereas I’d been afraid to take that next step all these years.

  Looking around the high-end bathroom, I marveled that I’d had the guts to start Olivia’s Occasions. But the few events I’d contracted hadn’t paid much, and getting a foot into the upscale events in Blue Moon Bay was difficult without having a connection. Thus, I needed Greta in order to succeed at the career I loved. I had to pull her out of her funk. Maybe Brody talked to Scotty today and had some news for me.

  Thinking of Brody, I pictured Taylor buying those lobster tails for her romantic dinner. Taking a deep breath, I sank under the hot water as long as I could before coming back up for air. Taylor’s perfection made me want to crawl under a rock and hide. Brody said he didn’t love her. I tried to focus on trusting him like Wendy had advised.

  Chirp! Chirp! I glanced at the bathroom counter to see the blue light blinking on my cell phone, announcing I’d received a text message. I stepped out of the huge tub, wrapped a fluffy white towel around me, then hurried to see who the message was from. Brody Mitchell.

  I dried my hand on the towel, then ran my finger across the cell’s screen, and tapped on the message: Have to cancel dinner. Emergency with a friend. Can we meet later tonight? There’s something important I want to talk to you about.

  A knot formed in my stomach as I stared at the words. He’d broken our date for a friend? Normally, I’d be understanding. But, hello? I’d seen the lobster tails. And they were not cheap! I knew what Ms. Blonde Bikini had in mind when she bought those. I was about to text him where he could stuff his lobster tails when Wendy’s voice echoed through my head telling me to trust him. So, I took a deep breath, and gathered my confidence.

  I reread his text: Have to cancel dinner. Emergency with a friend. Can we meet later tonight? There’s something important I want to talk to you about.

  Giving him the benefit of my nagging doubt, I texted back: Sure. What time?

  Since water and bubbles dripped off my legs onto the floor, I set my phone beside the tub and slipped back in the water. Drawing my knees up to my chest, I stared at the phone willing him to text me back quickly. I needed confirmation that I was important to him, and that I wasn’t stupid to put faith in him after my last relationship had ended so badly.

  Hunter had reunited with his ex-girlfriend without so much as a backward glance. Apparently, I’d only been a temporary diversion. Thinking I could trust Hunter had been the biggest mistake I’d ever made, and I didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

  Then a horrible thought occurred to me. Brody said he wanted to talk to me about something important. What if he wanted to break bad news in person, like, “It’s been fun, but I’m getting back with my ex after all.” I was still waiting for Brody to text me back as the water grew tepid, then cold. I felt lame for waiting by the phone, so I climbed out of the tub and wrapped myself in a fluffy robe, needing to distract myself. A watched phone never beeps.

  Just then, my phone rang. A jolt of adrenaline rushed through me. I shut the door to my room, then glanced down at the cell screen and saw my dad’s name lighting up. I groaned. My heart squeezed. I felt guilty for wanting to let it go to voicemail. Hello? I was at work. But what if I were in the same predicament? He’d be there for me. I pressed the ANSWER button.

  “What’s up, Dad?” I asked, toweling off, then stepping into a pair of dark wash jeans.

  “Sorry to bother you at your retreat again, Pumpkin.” He blew out a long,
audible breath. “But I drove to your mom’s, bringing a homemade batch of enchiladas for dinner, her favorite, and that man opened the door.” He spat the word “man” as if he could hardly dignify saying the word. “He proceeded to inform me that your mom doesn’t eat carbs anymore. Can you believe that? He’s obviously a bad influence. I’m worried about her.”

  I pulled a sweater over my head, wishing I’d never helped my mom sign up for that stupid online site. My heart squeezed hearing how upset he sounded. “Listen, you have to stop going over to Mom’s house. Dad, you have to let her go. She’s moved on, and . . . so should you,” I said.

  There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. I felt bad for my advice, but he kept torturing himself trying to win her back when she obviously only had time for Junior. What kind of name was that, anyway? It sounded more appropriate for a five-year-old.

  “I know you think I’m crazy, Pumpkin. But you’re wrong.” His voice was low and sad. “She hasn’t moved on, she just doesn’t believe I’ve changed. I need to prove that to her. I’m going to win her back.”

  My heart broke in my chest, making me wish there was a male Greta who had written Women: Who Needs Them? so Dad could find the strength to get over my mom.

  “I love you, Dad,” I said, knowing there wasn’t anything else I could do for him right now. As we said goodbye, my stomach tightened. I did think he was crazy for pursuing her further, because holding out hope just meant he’d hurt even more in the long run. I slipped my cell into my back pocket just as I heard a knock on my door.

  “Come in,” I called over my shoulder.

  The door opened slowly and Charlie peeked in. “I’m going for a walk on the beach. Want to come with me?”

  Seeing her smile at me, I said, “Yeah, sure, I’d love to. That sounds great.”

  We walked outside, then down the steps in silence. The sand slipped beneath my sneakers, and we made our way closer to the water where the sand was moist and packed. A breeze blew off the water in the setting sun, and a chill rippled through me. I zipped my jacket to the top, then dug my hands into my pockets. We continued on in silence until we came to a slide of rocks. Climbing up to the top of one, I pulled my cell out of my back pocket and checked the screen. No return text from Brody. My tummy sank as I slipped the phone into my jacket pocket, and sat down beside Charlie like old times.