Page 70 of Best Kept Secret

That was the trick, apparently, to not take another handful of Ambien pills.

I heard clicking of heels and knew who it was. I'd already figured out who sounded like what.

Heels indicated the new architect and one of my food's biggest fans, Zahra Delacroix. She'd just moved to Savannah with her fiancé, and since she was half middle Eastern, she loved the Indian spices that I added to the food I made. She wore high heels, Christian Louboutin or some other fancy brand, and looked like she walked out of a fashion magazine.

Boots snapping impatiently meant Luna. She was the head of architecture, dressed like a biker bitch; short blonde hair, extremely feminine features, and boots.

Stella, the head of landscaping, wore ballet flats like I did. Onlyherswere Christian Dior. Mine cost five dollars a pair, on sale, at Target.

Nova wore those fifties Mary Janes, and her heels had a distinct sound, while Nina sounded like a woman on a mission. There were others. Ginny from construction. Anson who had an office in the Savannah Lace building along with his colleague Diego Perez who flirted outrageously with everyone—except me. Probably, someone told him that I was a headcase that tried to kill myself, so he kept a safe, solicitous distance.

"Mira!" Zahra called out, her voice light, playful. "Smells amazing, as always. I've stopped eating at home so I can eat both breakfast and lunch here." She patted her flat stomach over her skirt suit. "I'm going to have to work out harder or I'll put on a shit ton of weight."

I gave her a small half smile because it was expected. I wiped my hands on the towel tucked around my waist. "The soup will be ready in about fifteen minutes."

Zahra smiled with what I could only describe as careful enthusiasm, like she was trying not to push me too hard. "Can't wait," she said, and for a second, she looked like she might stay to chat. But I didn't give her the chance. I turned back to the stove, stirring the soup, my body tense with the expectation that she'd try to break through the silence.

I felt like I was on display sometimes. Did everyone know about my rock-bottom moment? Probably. I'd learned that Savannah was asmalltown despite the four hundred thousand people who supposedly lived here.

"Hey, we're going for drinks after work. Why don't you join us?"

I shook my head. "No thanks. I can't afford it." A few days ago, I'd have never admitted that. But nowI spoke my truth.

"Savannah Lace is paying," she said easily.

"I don't need charity."

"The company paying for an employee's drink is not charity." Zahra got into my face then. "You work here. You're a colleague. We're going to celebrate the Drayden contract, and Nina will be coming, along with the company card."

I swallowed. She wasn't treating me with kid gloves like everyone else. Did she now know I wasOne Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest?

"No, thanks."

Zahra raised an eyebrow. "Going through a breakup? I was like that when I broke up with my ex. Cried fordays."

"I'm not crying."

She put a hand on her waist and cocked her hip. "But youaregoing through a breakup?"

My God, but this woman was persistent.

Everyone else tiptoed around me, their smiles too careful, their conversations too polite, but not Zahra.

Thankfully, Stella walked into the tiny breakroom just then, offering me a much-needed escape from Zahra. Stella's approach was different—she wasn't pretending she didn't know about the mess I'd made of my life. I could see it in her eyes, the way she wanted to ask but held back, restrained by some misplaced sense of respect.

"Do you think if there's any pesto left over I could take it home?" she asked. "I'm in love with it."

"Sure," I replied, unnecessarily stirring the pot of soup.

BeforeAmbien, I'd have chatted and made friends, but notAfterAmbien. Now, I wanted to be alone and in my head.

"I was asking Mira to join us today evening," Zahra prompted.

"Oh, yeah. You should come, Mira. It's gonna be a party!" Stella agreed.

"She says she can't come because she can't afford it," Zahra said, and I felt heat rise through me.

I don't care! It doesn't matter.