Page 37 of Everything We Give

“Aimee! Nadia!” Nick Garner runs up to us, grinning. His hair stands on end and his dress shirt from his day job as an attorney is unbuttoned at the collar, with the sleeves rolled up. One shirttail has escaped the waist of his suit pants. “I’m a dad! Again! I have a son! Oh my God, I have a son.” He grasps his face with both hands and laughs.

“Congratulations,” Nadia and I say in unison. Nick hugs each of us, picking me off my feet when it’s my turn. I feel myself grinning as stupidly as he is. The man is on cloud nine.

He waves for us to follow. “Kristen’s asking for you. Come meet baby Theo.”

After cooing over Theodore Michael for a couple of hours and watching Kristen’s daughters meet their baby brother—Isowant to give Caty a sibling—Nadia and I leave the Garner family to enjoy their new addition in privacy. As soon as we exit the hospital both our phones ping with notifications. Nadia immediately dives into hers.

“I’m thinking of pulling the plug on my expansion plans,” I tell Nadia when we stop on the walkway before going our separate ways. She’d asked about the project’s progress in the elevator on the way down since I hired her to design the new locations.

“That’s because you’re in the not-so-fun stage of paperwork and financing,” she says, multitasking on her phone. She taps out another text. “Every project seems dull at this point.”

“It’s more than that.” I look across the parking lot. Evening traffic, the steady hum of passing cars, and the occasional horn and siren, noise polluting the evening. The first hint of fall permeates the air, wood smoke and the after-scent of brush fires. Drying leaves and apples. My stomach growls. It’s past dinner. I need to pick up Caty and find something to eat. It’s going to be a late night and I’ve been up since before dawn.

“I worked the kitchen this morning. I had my hands wrist deep in dough and I loved it. I thought up three new drink mixes while waiting for the coffee to brew. I chatted with my regulars and ... and who are you texting?” I ask, wondering if she’s even listening to me. I try to peer at her phone. She tilts it away.

“I told you. A client.” She sends the text and tucks her mobile under her arm. “You were saying?”

I jut a shoulder, thinking of my day. “I miss all that.”

“Miss what?”

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Umm ... dough?”

“Yes, that!” I hold up my hands, curling my fingers in frustration. I want to give Nadia a good shake. I want her to understand my desire to get back to basics. “I miss kneading dough and brewing coffee. The simple things. Does that sound lame?”

Nadia’s phone pings. “Sorry.”

I feel my brows push into my hairline. “Really?”

“One second.” She shoots me an apologetic smile. “This project is on deadline.” She reads the text. So do I. I can’t help it. She’s standing right beside me and her phone is right there and she isn’t hiding the screen.

Meet me for a late dinner.

“Who are you meeting for dinner?” I hear myself asking as my gaze glides to the contact name at the top of the screen.Thomas Donato.

It takes three seconds of dead silence for Thomas’s name and who Nadia has been texting to register because I can’t process what this means. Nadia and Thomas. Together.

She senses the instant I see his name. Her arm falls to her side and her expression clouds with guilt.

I gape, pointing at her phone. “You’re working with Thomas?” I sound incredulous. Heartbroken. Betrayed by my best friend.

“I was thinking about mentioning it to you last night but—”

“But what? James came to town? You thought I was too emotional after seeing him to handle the news you’re working with his brother?”

“Something like that,” Nadia admits in a small voice, which is very unlike her. She understands how much she’s hurt me.

“What I don’t get is why you’d agree to work with him in the first place. After everything he did to me.”

“It’s only a small job. It’ll be done in two weeks,” she defends.

“You thought I’d never find out.”

Nadia looks at the ground. “I’m not even supposed to mention the project. I signed an NDA.”

“How could you?”

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