Page 73 of Long Shot

My eyebrows rise.

“Uh . . . not a football fan? Okay, we don’t have to—”

“No, actually I like football.”

“Awesome. Then you’ll come?”

“I . . . sure.”

“Bring Jack. He doesn’t have to stay home alone all day.”

My heart tilts. “Okay.”

“Good. Now get back to work. The night before Thanksgiving is the busiest night of the year.”

I shake my head, smiling, turning away from him to focus on my chile rellenos.

After lunch, Carrie seeks me out. “Hey. I heard about what happened. Are you okay?”

I marvel at everyone’s acceptance of my panic attack yesterday. Somehow I expected people to be awkward and uncomfortable, avoiding talking about it. Their sympathy takes me aback. Maybe it’s becauseIfeel awkward and uncomfortable about it.

“I’m okay. Thanks.”

Carrie’s head tips to one side. “I’m glad. I heard about that shooting . . . I never in a million years would have thought you were involved. That must have been so awful.”

“It was.”

“I’m sorry you went through that.” Unexpectedly, Carrie pulls me into a hug. As she releases me, she smiles. “I’m glad you’re doing okay. And I’m even happier that you’re cooking again.”

I swallow what feels like a tomatillo in my throat. “Thank you.”

“We need to get together to talk about a few things for paint night.”

“Right.” I give a thumbs-up. Our first night is coming up next week.

“Do you ever get a night off anymore?”

“Things have been busy planning the new menu and getting everyone up to speed on the new dishes. I’m off tomorrow of course, but it’s Thanksgiving. Then I’m supposed to be off Sunday.”

“Supposed to be?” Carrie’s eyebrows lift.

“I might come in just to check on things . . .”

“You take your day off!” Carrie grins, shaking her head. “I figured you were a Type A.”

“Ha-ha. Yep.”

“Okay, Sunday you and Hayden and I will go out for breakfast again. And we can figure out the last details about paint night.”

Geez, these people are determined to bring me into their lives. As with Cade, getting involved even in friendships feels risky. But Carrie’s warmth and caring is hard to resist, and it’s fun hanging out with her and Hayden. “Okay.”

“Great!”

Beck and Marco also take a turn checking in on me, and I pick up a weird vibe from both of them as they ask how I’m doing, giving me a odd look that makes the back of my neck tingle. I’m busy, though, and it’s not until after the dinner rush that it strikes me—Cade must have told them we slept together.

I groan and slap a hand to my forehead. Shit. Does Carrie know, too? Does everyone know? Oh, my God, this is more embarrassing than the panic attack. Throwing down a towel, I stride out of the kitchen and across the hall to the office. Yep, Cade’s in there alone, frowning at his computer monitor.

“Did you tell them we slept together?” I demand.

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