Page 97 of Happily Never After

“They won’t be. Don’t get mad at me.”

She crossed her arms. “Why would I be mad at you? Did you make out with Olivia after I left?”

“No. I made a donation to the shelter.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How much?”

“Enough to get them through a year. Plenty of time for you to find your next big thing.”

She turned away from him and buried her hands in her hair. Relief warred with rage. The shelter was her responsibility to save. Not Luke’s. “So you knew I would get fired. You didn’t believe in me.”

“I believe in you. But I also believe Brad has a mega ego and can be pretty impulsive. I just didn’t want you to have another thing to worry about.”

Claire sniffed and stiffly uncrossed her arms. Luke pulled her into a hug and stroked her hair. “Thank you,” she said, muffled against his chest. He had bought her some time.

He moved back and looked her in the eyes. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but everything’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not going to be okay. My warehouse is gone, Luke. My biggest client dumped me. I have a gigantic loan that I now have no way to pay. Our interview was a disaster, so now we don’t have anyone to help us look for more California clients, which we desperately need to help replace the lost income from Brad. Oh, and let’s not forget that ESA won’t leave me alone.” They had been quiet since the parking lot incident. That couldn’t be good. She shelved it to worry about later.

“Right,” Luke said. “That reminds me. Since Mindy’s leaving after your interviews are done, you’re not allowed to leave the house without me. It’s not safe.”

Claire grunted. She had no intention of following that rule.

His eyes searched hers. His strong arms pulled her back in, and she burrowed into the clean scent of his T-shirt. “We’ve faced worse odds. You’re not alone. You’ll find new clients. And now you don’t need to answer the phone at three a.m. when Brad’s calling you with an idea.”

Claire sighed. One of Brad’s binders sat on the coffee table, taunting her. He had easily been her most aggravating and opinionated client. But she had created something beautiful. And now Karen wasn’t going to get her perfect moment.The proposal was way too complicated for someone with no background in event planning. Claire could barely handle all the moving pieces and she had an assistant and capable team. What chance did Brad’s receptionist stand?

“Look at me.” Luke pushed her back, firmly gripping her arms again. “Who are you?”

She frowned. “Did you have a stroke?”

He shook her gently. The cabernet sloshed in the bottle. “You’re Claire Freaking Hartley. Say it.”

She squirmed. “I don’t want to.”

It didn’t feel true today. Claire Freaking Hartley wouldn’t have gotten fired by her biggest client. She wasn’t sure who she was anymore.

His green eyes burned. “Say it. Tell me who you are.”

“A failure. A wildly irresponsible, wine-drunk idiot who couldn’t plan her way out of a cardboard box.”

His grip tightened. “Stop. Say it.”

He wasn’t going to stop. “Claire Freaking Hartley,” she mumbled.

His head tilted. “I can’t hear you.”

“Claire Freaking Hartley,” she said, a bit louder.

He raised his eyebrows. “One more time.”

The wine bottle hit the floor. She pulled her rainbow party hat off and slingshotted it at a framed poster of the movieGoodfellas.

“I’m Claire Freaking Hartley,” she shouted over a drum solo.

His mouth twisted up into a half-smile. Her own mouth curved in response, acting completely independently from the mental freakout she was having. And yet, maybe it was still true. Maybe she was still Claire Freaking Hartley. She wasn’t going to let one overly-sensitive, gold-pinky-ring-wearing control freak ruin her life. She had escaped a serial killer, for god’s sake. Surely she could find a way around this financial pickle.

Luke kissed her forehead. “That’s right. Now put your pants on, we’re going out.”

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