Page 18 of The Followers

He nodded and took a sip of coffee. “What do you do for work?”

Stick to the truth when possible, Liv reminded herself. “I’m a physical therapist. It’s a temp position, just for the summer. Covering for someone on maternity leave.”

He nodded again, a slow, intent nod, like he was digesting her words. Her cheeks flushed; she wasn’t used to men—or anyone, for that matter—paying her much attention.

“And what do you think of our fair city?” he said, one arm outstretched toward the windows.

“It’s nice.”

“That’s it? You’re in a town that boasts world-class rock-climbing, fly-fishing, mountain biking, hiking, and skiing, all within a short drive. And all you can say is it’s nice?”

“It’s pretty here,” she said, trying for a pleasant smile. “Hot, though.”

“Yeah, it tends to get that way.” His eyes were laughing at her. “Everyone’s predicting it’ll be the hottest summer on record. Thanks, climate change.”

“Wow.” She didn’t know what else to say. Sometimes she could go days, even weeks, without engaging in meaningful conversation with anyone but her brother.

This guy, however, seemed to have no problem filling the silence. “Do you always work temporary positions?”

“Yes, since I graduated two years ago.” Which was around the time Gran had died. Oliver was already living in New York by then, couch surfing between various friends’ apartments, so Liv had no reason to stick around in Pittsburgh.

“That’s an interesting idea. You get to see the country, travel, and have the benefits of being a tourist but the comfort of a home base.”

Except Oliver said Liv was the worst tourist in the world. She tended to stick to the same few activities everywhere she went: find the closest grocery store and coffee shop; map out a three-mile loop to run during the week and a longer loop to run on Sundays. When she wasn’t running or working, she was reading, watching documentaries on Netflix, or FaceTiming Oliver.

This guy looked like he’d be the best kind of tourist. The kind who found hole-in-the-wall restaurants and locals-only bars, who spent time off the beaten track and came away with new friends everywhere he went.

And for an instant, she wished she could be the kind of person who did that, too.

“So,” he said, tipping his coffee cup toward her, “where’s your family?”

Family. The word made her chest ache. But before she could think of how to answer, her phone pinged with a notification: Molly Sullivan has posted a new Instagram story. Liv sucked in a breath—a selfie in front of Sweet Cakes Bakery.

Liv stood, her chair legs screeching against the ground. “I—I gotta go,” she said as she gathered up her laptop and bag. “Nice chatting with you.”

“Uh, you too,” he said. “See you around?”

But Liv was already out the door.

When she reached the bakery, she saw Molly inside at the cash register. Molly’s blond hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and her pink sunglasses were perched on her head. Liv’s stomach clenched. She waited until the door swung open and Molly stepped out, balancing a giant cardboard box in her arms and calling thank you over her shoulder.

But as Molly stepped off the threshold, she lost her balance, struggling to contain the box as it teetered toward the sidewalk. Impulsively, Liv took a step forward and caught the box, steadying it.

“Thank you so much!” Molly said. Her face brightened when she saw Liv, her one-sided dimple showing. “Oh, hi! We met at the park, right? I’m Molly. My little girl ran into you. You must think we’re both klutzes.”

“It’s okay.” Liv smiled, anxiety running through her limbs. “I hope whatever is inside didn’t get damaged.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “That would be bad.”

She carefully set the box on the ground and lifted the lid to reveal rows of cupcakes, frosted pink and purple, with something golden sticking up in the centers.

“What are they?” Liv asked. “Little unicorns?”

Molly laughed. “Exactly. They’re for Chloe’s birthday party tomorrow. She’s obsessed.”

“Sounds like fun,” Liv lied. A house full of strangers was her idea of hell.

“I hope so. Chloe needs some friends, and I let my stepdaughter invite some girls, too.”

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