Page 100 of Long Shot

Fuck that. I’m not thinking about it anymore. I thought about it all damn night, tossing and turning and sweating in my bed. “It’s done. And I have work to do.”

Marco’s face tenses, but he nods and leaves.

She’s really leaving.

Reese

It’s weird not going to work.

I haven’t worked at Conquistadors that long, but it’s become a big part of my life—well, it’s the people there, really. The regulars, my coworkers, Beck and Marco, Carrie and Hayden. And Cade. Most of all Cade.

The last two mornings I got up and took Jack for a walk on the beach. I couldn’t stop myself from looking for Cade, thinking maybe he was surfing as he often did in the morning. But I didn’t see him.

I survey the duplex. I’ve accumulated a bit of furniture that I’ll have to move. The small Christmas tree in the corner that Cade and I bought and decorated the other day blinks at me, the tiny white lights flashing. I move over to look at it, fingering the ornaments we bought at a gift shop up the beach while we were Christmas shopping . . . seashells, anchors, and driftwood with red ribbons, the little palm tree and the dolphin and the tequila bottle. Jesus, I’m going to cry again.

I suck in a deep breath and let it out.

I called Graham late Friday and told him I decided to take the job. For some reason, I put it off all day, until I couldn’t put it off any longer. He was flatteringly happy.

I go online and scroll through apartment listings. There’s no point in actually going up to L.A. to look at places until after Christmas. If I’m going to do this, maybe I should sell my New York apartment. Really start over. My parents will probably help with that since they’re there, helping ship the things I left in storage. It makes sense to do that.

Tomorrow is Christmas.

I sigh. I’ve worked many Christmas Days—that’s not a big deal in the hospitality business. But I’ve never been alone on Christmas before.

I should have given in to my parents, who’ve been bugging me to come home for Christmas. I put them off with excuses, not wanting to tell them the reason I want to stay here is because of Cade. And now . . .

A longing so intense it’s painful rips through me, and I actually double over, gasping. God. Why,whydid I fall so hard for Cade? I should have known better. Like all those other women, Iknewhe wasn’t going to commit to something long-term. I thought I could do it. Instead, I fell in love.

Maybe I should call Graham back and tell him it was a mistake. I’ll go and beg for my job back at Conquistadors.

I’ll be another of Cade’s discarded companions, begging him for another chance.

Crap. I am not going to be that girl.

I’ll be fine. It’ll just take a while. Once Christmas is past, I’ll be busy moving and diving into the opening of Grand. I won’t have time to miss Cade or anyone else at Conquistadors.

21

CADE

“I don’t know how to make that mole sauce.”

I give Sid a long look. “How hard can it be?”

“She never told me everything she put in it. I can makeamole sauce, but it won’t be the same.”

“Whatever. People won’t notice the difference.”

Sid winces. “They probably will. I’m not sure exactly how she made that shakshuka either, and it’s really popular at lunch.”

“Great.” I sigh. I rub the back of my neck. “I’m working on hiring a new chef.”

Sid’s dejection is obvious on his face. “I’m sorry. I should have learned more . . .”

“Not your fault. This happened fast.”

“Still don’t get why she left,” Sid mutters. “I thought she liked it here.”

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