Page 17 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

Once they’d settled with their drinks, Elliott asked how Carly had ended up in the bone marrow registry.

“It was for this honor society I was in during college, Beta Alpha Psi. Basically a fancy name for an accounting club.” She laughed lightly. “Every year they have this big philanthropy event where people came to get swabbed and be put in the registry. To be honest I’d forgotten all about it until they called me about you.”

“Registering for something like that wasn’t even on my radar until I needed one myself.” Elliott reached up and absently rubbed the raised area under her skin where her port remained. She was in complete remission and was likely to stay that way, but ... she wasn’t comfortable getting it removed yet.

Just in case.

“You just moved here, right?” Carly asked. They’d briefly emailed back and forth about meeting, and Elliott had mentioned her relocation from Lincoln.

“Yeah, just about a week ago.”

“What brought you here?”

“Cancer treatments and the transplant sort of put me behind with school, so I just finished my graphic design degree. For years my dream has been to help small businesses find footing with the chaos of social media, and to help with branding and graphics, that sort of thing. So that’s what I’m here to do. Start my own business to help others get theirs off the ground.”

“Really? That’s fantastic. Small businesses have been my jam ever since my college roommate opened a jewelry shop in Little Bohemia.” Carly thumbed the gold bangles on her wrist. “I watched her spend hours in our apartment making each little piece by hand, trying to make a name for herself.”

Elliott nodded, loving that Carly shared her enthusiasm. “It changes your perspective when you see someone start from scratch, doesn’t it? I think my love for all things local came from my parents. They own a bookstore in Lincoln, and I basically grew up there. I shared everything I learned with them as I pursued my degree, and I’ve seen their business flourish because of a few strategic events and social media updates. I had so much fun with it and realized I want to do that all day, every day.”

“Did you already have clients in Lincoln, then? Other than your parents’ place?”

“Not official ones, no. Everyone I love is there, but we both know Omaha has more opportunity for this kind of thing. Less college town, more distinct neighborhood districts, young professionals just starting out, and locally owned businesses. I got a job at Starbucks to support me while I build it up.” She’d have loved to find work at an independent coffee shop but couldn’t pass up the insurance benefits that came with even a part-time gig at the major coffee chain. “I’m not very familiar with Omaha, though, so getting the lay of the land is first on my list.”

“Well, you’re talking to the right person. I’m not from here originally, but I’ve been here since college. And I’m out and about so much I became the unofficial social chair in my circle of friends. I know almost everything about this town. Where you should go, where you shouldn’t, and—oh! You should come out with my friends and me tonight. I’m sure you’d like to meet some people, too.”

“Really?” Elliott had slept terribly last night and had planned on trying to turn in early tonight, but she could squeeze in a nap later this afternoon. Lately she’d had better luck sleeping during the day, anyway. “You wouldn’t mind bringing a stranger? I could be super awkward or a total weirdo.”

“Normal’s boring.”

“Boring” was probably the best word to describe Elliott. Except for that night with Jamie, when she hadn’t been. “Boring’s worse than weird,” she ventured.

“Nah. You just need a little fun, which is my specialty.” Carly cocked a brow. “Are you single? I have a hot guy friend who’s unattached. He’s a photographer. He might look intimidating at first with the long hair and tattoos, but he’s the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet.”

Elliott wasn’t quite ready to be set up on Day Six of her independence, but Carly looked so excited she couldn’t help herself. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Carly grinned. “You’ll come, then?”

“Sure.” She wasn’t mentally prepared for a night of making small talk with a bunch of people she didn’t know, but she’d need to get outat some point. It was better than sitting around with loneliness and anxiety as her only companions.

Yuka would be proud, and she definitely needed to have some fun.

And maybe, just maybe, meeting another guy would finally help her think about something other than Jamie.

Chapter Six

Elliott

At eight o’clock that evening, Elliott walked up to The Patriarch, an old home that had been converted into a craft beer house. She smiled at the Victorian-style architecture, loving the idea of repurposing the building for something so fun. She hadn’t drunk much since the transplant, but it didn’t matter. As soon as she walked in, she knew this place was her style. It was low key and mellow, with a few long, heavy-looking wood tables and benches in the main room and leather couches and chairs dotting the smaller rooms that seemed to shoot off in every direction.

Yuka would love it, and Elliott could bring her dad when he came to visit. The man knew more about beer than anyone she’d ever met and would fit right in at a place like this.

The hum of conversation and a song by an indie rock band Elliott saw in concert a few years ago filled the air, and the planks of the hardwood floor creaked as she walked, searching faces for the only one she’d recognize. Just as she was about to pass another doorway, someone suddenly walked out, and she slammed into a hard chest.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sor—” she started as she took a step back, but when she looked up, the words died in her throat.

Jamie stood in front of her, as tall and imposing as ever, staring down at her as if she were a ghost.

It sort of felt like she was. She hadn’t hit him that hard, but seeing him knocked the breath straight out of her. A stiff breeze would have carried her away, shifting and swirling like the curls of excitement building in her stomach.

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