Helena waved that away. “That’s what friends are for.”
“Tate’s really more your friend.”
“He’s your friend, too,” Helena insisted.
“But we’re not tight or anything.”
“You don’t have to be for something like this.” Once again, Helena was being very reasonable, but Molly wasn’t sure she was in the mood for reasonable at the moment. She wanted more sympathy first.
But Helena was sort of right, now that she thought about it. Since at least half of the money raised from the Children’s Fair supported the county animal rescue—and probably explained Tate’s involvement with the event—it made sense for her to involve him. But it didn’t make her more comfortable with the idea of asking him. Admitting her inadequacies to Helena was one thing. Admitting them to Tate was something else. But the other half of the money went to the women’s shelter—a cause she supported wholeheartedly—so she had really big expectations sitting on her shoulders. And she didn’t want to screw this up.
Helena glanced at her phone and tilted her head in apology. “I gotta run. I’m meeting Ryan for a late lunch.”
She had a small smile on her face, though, which made Molly think they wouldn’t be having that lunch at Ms. Marge’s diner. Helena and Ryan were quite possibly the strangest match in Magnolia Beach—a reformed hellion and the town mayor sounded more like the premise of a romance novel than an actual working relationship—but they were happy and that made Molly happy. Plus, without Ryan Tanner in the picture, Helena would have gone back to Atlanta last fall, and Molly would have missed her new friend terribly. “That’s fine. Just leave me here.” She sighed. “I wonder if a million paper cuts count as slitting my wrists . . .”
Helena met her eyes. “Seriously. Call Tate.”
She shrugged. “I’ll keep digging through this, see if I can make heads or tails of it first. If I can’t . . .”
“Do you have book club tonight?”
“No.” Her “book club” had first been a cover for her trips to Mobile to see her therapist and then for that self-defense class she took. Why she’d felt the need to hide it, even from Helena, she had no idea. This wasn’t Fuller, and people weren’t keeping tabs on her.
“You haven’t been in a long time.”
“It kind of fizzled out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Let me know if you want to start one up here. My brain could use the exercise.”
Helena wanted to join a book club. She really was settling in. Molly laughed. “Talk to me after Memorial Day, okay?”
“So if you’re not busy tonight, why don’t you come to Grannie’s for dinner?” Helena offered. “Grannie knows everything about everything, so between the three of us—and Ryan, too—I’m sure we can figure it all out.”
Sometimes she forgot that this wasn’t Fuller, and she wasn’t on her own anymore. She had a posse—however small. “That would be great. Thanks.”
Helena waved good-bye and nearly sprinted out the door.
Molly felt a little better. Ms. Louise would be an excellent—and obvious, now that Helena mentioned it—source of advice. And if the three of them couldn’t get it figured out . . . well, she would just suck it up and call Tate.
She’d sworn to never sacrifice her pride again, but failure wasn’t an option.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
Kimberly Lang is a Southern belle with a trouble-making streak and a great love of strong heroes and even stronger heroines. A former ballet dancer and English teacher, she now does yoga and writes the kind of books she always loved to read. She’s married to her college sweetheart, is mom to the most amazing child on the planet, and shares her office space with a dog named Cupid.
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