Page 48 of Keeping It Professional

“I don’t have a dog.” My ball rolled back up. I tested its weight. Brian watched, frowning, as I gave it a trial swing.

“What is it, then? You’re playing like crap.”

I let the ball go. It rolled straight and true, but not with enough force to take all the pins. It left one on the end standing there, mocking.

“Damn it.”

“So, talk. What’s going on?”

I picked up another ball and aimed for that last pin, but I didn’t hit it, or anywhere close. “It’s too perfect,” I said.

“What is? Not your game.”

I gave Brian the finger. “Everything. Sophie. We’ve been dating a month. And it’s all been amazing, but…”

“But what? That’s great!”

I tried to think of the words to frame what I felt. To put my fear in a way that didn’t sound stupid. I felt like a pirate walking the plank, and the sun was still warm, the sky clear and blue. If I closed my eyes, nothing was wrong. But the moment I opened them and I looked down, the sea was there yawning, deep, full of terrors.

“We don’t fight,” I said. “Not when I’m out with her, and not on the job. She’s the best partner I’ve ever had, but… that can’t be it. No one’s that great. Not all the time. There’s got to be another shoe waiting to drop.”

Brian looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Whycan’tshe be that great?”

“Because… I don’t know.”

“Am I not that great? I mean, as your friend?”

“Yeah, but that’s different. Sophie’s… she’s…” I dug deep for the words to describe what I felt. “I could build a whole life with her if things went right. And there’s no way, there’s no perfect life. Not for me, anyway. I’ll never have that.”

Brian studied me like I was a puzzle. A puzzle that might be missing a piece. “So, you deserve a good friend, but not a good life?”

I started to protest, but thatwaswhat I’d said. I wasn’t sure if I felt it, but it sounded right. No one lucked into a beautiful life. You either earned it or you were rich, and I wasn’t rich, so?—

“Sometimes, there’s just one shoe.” Brian reached for his ball. “Like those little wooden ones you fill up with candy. Or the kind you deal cards from. There’s just one of those.”

I rolled my eyes. Brian rolled a strike. He turned and scowled at me.

“Relax, okay? Maybe there’s another shoe and maybe there isn’t. But none’s dropped so far, so why not enjoy it?”

I dug my hand in my pocket and pulled out my wallet. I didn’t need to open it to see Nick in my head, screaming his head off as we plunged down the slope. Would his loss have hurt less if we’d been less happy? If I’d held back on loving him, just in case? I couldn’t answer that question, and it felt wrong to try.

“You’re right,” I said, and I went for my ball. I swung it, determined to live for today. To savor what I had, not dread what might be.

The ball plopped in the gutter, just like the others.

CHAPTER 18

SOPHIE

It felt like longer than three weeks since I’d been to the salon.

Maybe because they’d changed the chairs in that time, tossed out the old ones that smelled of warm vinyl and brought in big black ones with heated seats.

Or maybe it was simpler: this had been our tradition, mine and Mom’s, since forever. Since we’d got ourselves back on our feet. We’d come every week since then, and I’d barely missed once. Now I’d skipped out three weeks in a row.

“Feels weird,” said Mom. She tipped her head back. “Not bad weird, though. Just different weird.”

I closed my eyes and breathed deep. “I think it’s the smell.”

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