Page 187 of Smoke and Fire
Dahlia shrugged. “That makes sense.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
All the tension I’d bottle up over that reply deflated. I stared at her, at a loss for words. How could such a loyal fan be so blasé? I’d kept quiet about my realfeelings for this career because I’d always worried what anyone would say.
“You just . . . accept it like that?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t want to be a barista forever. I might love it, but it wouldn’t feel like it challenged me long term. If that’s the case for you, you should do what you really love. Which is . . .” she drawled and motioned toward me with a hand.
“I don’t have any idea.”
Admitting it cost me something. Pride, maybe. Ego, certainly. Normally, I didn’t care about the fact that I had a lot of careers and never planned to settle in one. Most people didn’t think that hard about my life. With Dahlia, however, it mattered.
A startled expression came to her face, then she grinned, orange juice raised in salute.
“Same.”
Eager for any opportunity to change the topic away from me, I said, “Oh?”
“Not sure yet what I want to be next either.” She had a sip of juice, then tilted her head to the side. “Maybe something like what I’ve been doing for you. I’ve dabbled with college and a few other things, but . . .”
She trailed away, then shook her head.
“Those were derailed and I haven’t picked back up where I want because, frankly, I don’t know what I want. Seemed easier to coast for a while. Eventually, I’ll figure it out. I think I’d like to have a family one day. Not now, but . . . some day.”
The thought of squalling babies and a mortgage sent a shudder through me. So far, married life had worked out great for my friends Grady and Hernandez, but that didn’t sound like my cup of tea. There were enough people on my plate, thank you very much.
Waking up every day next to someone like Dahlia, however, I could wrap my brain around.
“Fair,” I said.
“Is it? I feel like by my late twenties I should have this figured out.”
“I’m thirty and I haven’t.”
“But you havesomethingfigured out.”
“I have a lot of somethings figured out.” I shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything about me.”
She raised her juice. “Then here’s to us again.”
I silently toasted her. Before she could say another word, the door opened with a jangle. Lizbeth strolled inside with a pale Bethany in tow.
"We came to take over!" Lizbeth cried. "Give me that apron. I'm going to close out tonight while Bethany sits down and figures out her plan for Leslie's job. JJ is occupied with cinnamon rolls and Maverick is renovating a shed into a book sanctuary for me."
The quick burst of life and words didn't seem to startle Dahlia. She ripped her apron off and tossed it over.
With a grin directed at me she cried, "Great! I have a dinner date and I'm not waiting any longer. Lizbeth, I finished all your books, but please don't take them away yet! I need to re-read them one more time."
IFI’D DOUBTEDwhether I could fall harder for Dahlia than I already had, I received an answer an hour later.
Instead of shoving me into a restaurant surrounded by chattering people and too much noise, we bought Chinese to go and drove to her RV.
She pulled two folding chairs out and set them up a few steps away from each other. We settled in, overlooking the distant reservoir while I dove into fried rice and double broccoli beef.
“This is perfect,” I mumbled around my third potsticker.
