Page 32 of Vodka and Chocolate Drops

But it was waitressing.

If Amber said yes, she’d effectively become her mother. She’d never get out of town.

She couldn’t do it. She’d promised herself. Move upward. Obtain more--all those things her mother hadn’t.

Benny gave her chin a gentle chuck, then stepped back toward his office.

But it was just for a few days. Part-time. Helping out a family friend.

She had to do it. She couldn’t let Benny down.

“Okay, fine,” she said quickly, the pressure getting to her. “I’ll do it. Only part-time, though. I still have my full-time job to contend with.”

Benny squeezed her in an extra large, cushiony hug. She could handle someone like him being her father. All those pillowy hugs.

He released her, holding her out in front of him. “Thank you.”

“Just while she’s away.”

“She has about six months of holiday time banked.”

“What?”

Benny laughed. “Worry not, young one.” He tapped the end of her nose. “She’s only gone ten days.” He headed to his office, triumphant. “This time.”

Amber walked slowly to the kitchen, shaking her head. Taking off to travel the world. Her mother was becoming a force to be reckoned with, wasn’t she?

Either that or she’d found an easy way to run from Amber and her secrets.

Amber grabbed a slice of pie and a glass of milk from Leif, sitting in the staff room to eat her snack as she had so many times as a kid. She allowed her mind to wander while she ate.

She dropped her fork suddenly. She had it! The one thing that might cause Russell to back off.

She dialed John’s cell phone, leaving a voice mail. “John, it’s Amber. I have it. Send Russell my counteroffer asking him to drop the trailer thing. And then let it slip that I was talking to Blair Diggs and she told me an interesting story set in a hot, dry climate.”

Amber hung up, smiling. She’d bet anything that Blair’s story was legit and that Russell wouldn’t want the truth of how he got his limp being leaked, causing him to go from hero to zero in no time flat.

Sure, it was blackmail, and John might not go through with it, but she had nothing to lose.

Her phone binged with an incoming email and she checked it as she finished the last of her milk, just about choking. It was from a woman who thought she might be Amber’s long-lost sister.

5

Her mother was seizing the day and chasing after her dreams, and what was Amber up to? Nothing.

The same old, same old.

Well, other than mulling over the new discoveries in her life. Such as her father didn’t know of her existence. She had a possible sister who wanted to meet up. She had an undetermined number of half siblings. Her mother was no longer the predictable, staid woman Amber had always counted on. And her ex-boyfriend wanted money for his stupid writing cave.

Oh, and she was daydreaming about her best friend in a friends-to-lovers kind of way.

Her mom had told her to believe she was enough woman for Scott and now Amber couldn’t get the idea out of her mind. Or the arguments about how her mother had to be wrong. Scott Malone was a man who upheld laws, whereas Amber went out and stumbled into them, sometimes shattering them in her wake. Her friend hadn’t come to the city when she’d left town, despite her constant begging. She hadn’t been enough for him to consider uprooting himself. And now that she was here for an indeterminate length of time, he was leaving. She’d never be enough. She got herself into embarrassing situations and it was too much for a man like Scott to take. As a friend, fine. As more? Not happening.

Besides, they weren’t even well matched. Not beyond their awesome friendship. For example, Scott definitely wouldn’t be considering finding a long-lost sibling without consulting his parents first.

As Amber was.

The email from her possible sister requesting a get together was open on her laptop, staring at her. Amber really wanted to meet the woman named Delia Whitehart. She didn’t want to wait for her mother or the government to confirm their relationship. Sick with excitement and fear, Amber wanted to find out everything about Delia. Every single little thing.

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