I’ve been extra . . . not really angry . . . but disillusioned since I walked out of Jack’s penthouse several days ago. I almost thought . . . he might try to stop me, but he didn’t.

But he’s been back to Daisy. I heard all about it at the Cut ’N’ Curl yesterday when I popped in to get Sun Drops for me and Topher.

Why, he’s just the sweetest man. Polite and gracious! He signed over three hundred footballs for all the kids at the elementary school! Little Timmy right next to him. Such a handsome fellow! That came from Birdie Walker, the school secretary. She was getting her roots touched up by Aunt Clara, who met my gaze in the mirror and grinned like a loon.

I just rolled my eyes and sat down in a chair, pretending to read a magazine, and listened.

Every student and teacher got to meet him one on one with Timmy and Laura! It took almost all day!

Oh, so Laura was there. Nice. Why don’t they just get married?

I hear Ms. Clark even slipped him her phone number! I wonder if he’ll call! She’s so pretty. He looked interested!

That was it. I groaned and maybe glared a little at the mouthy secretary. Ms. Clark is barely twenty-two and gives everyone her number. She’s also his type.

Whatever.

I flounced off from the Cut ’N’ Curl, part of me . . . annoyed that he hasn’t tried to find me.

Is that crazy?

But he was in Daisy and didn’t even come by the library. It’s right across from the church! If he was so gung ho about me, then why not try harder? Where’s that competitive nature of his?

But . . .

It’s over between the football player and me.

I wadded up that NDA and almost tossed it in his face.

I walked out.

And he didn’t follow.

Right.

Aunt Clara appears like magic next to Preston and Giselle, her eyes darting to the library windows, but the windows are tinted for the sun, and anyone looking in can’t see me and Topher.

Because if they could see our dagger eyes, they’d run.

“They’ll be here in a minute.” I head to the front desk and position myself behind it. Thankfully, it’s noon, and the place is quiet, with only a few patrons here—some at tables, some at the computers for the free internet. I pat down my hair, tamed and up in a french twist. I fix my glasses and reapply my red lipstick quickly, squaring my shoulders.

The three of them walk in, gazing around at the space. It’s an old building, but it’s beautiful, completely renovated since I took over—pristine, shiny tile flooring and new crisp-white shelves. The walls are a cool gray, the artwork from talented students at the high school, drawings of historic buildings in Daisy. Even the church is on the wall. To the right is a carpeted kids’ area, complete with toys, puzzles, and puppets for story time.

Giselle’s eyes glance over everything, but I doubt she really sees it. Her brain doesn’t work that way. She’s all about facts and equations.

Preston meets my gaze, his brown eyes searching my face, and I . . . I feel absolutely nothing.

He takes in Topher’s glare, pauses, and walks over to a shelf and pretends to look at the audiobooks. Pussy.

“Can we talk?” Giselle asks, an uneasy smile on her face as she reaches the desk. She’s wearing cream slacks and a soft blue blouse. If I squint a little, she’s almost Mama.

“Sure,” I say brightly. “I’ve been waiting to see that ring! It’s all everyone is talking about!”

I can do this!

Aunt Clara comes around the desk like she does it every day—she doesn’t—and aligns herself next to me. Giselle grimaces, moving her eyes from me to Clara.

“Alone?” Giselle asks.

Aunt Clara frowns.

“It’s fine,” I tell Aunt Clara, still smiling. “Giselle and I have barely had a minute alone since she got back and started dating Preston! Why, I can’t wait to hear how things are. Weddings are so exciting!”

I mean the words to be as real as possible, but when she winces, I know I struck a nerve. Maybe I need to tone down the peppiness.

Aunt Clara pats me on the arm. “I’ll go check out the romance. Got any hot-vampire books? I want full-on sex scenes.”

I nod. “Sure do. J. R. Ward. Read the whole collection. You’ll love it.”

She gives me a final look and heads to the shelves.

Giselle stands stiffly, looking uncomfortable. “Elena. I’m sorry.”

Plain and simple.

It’s what I expected.

She’s a direct person.

“For what? Stealing my boyfriend or the engagement?”

Her face flushes. “I know we haven’t really talked about everything, and thank you for never telling Mama that. I didn’t tell her about seeing you with that football player. I keep secrets, too, Elena.”

I recall the day when I caught them kissing in his office. It was mid-July and scorching hot when I walked from the library to his office on my lunch break. My head churned with how our relationship was floundering. Between Topher living with me and the lingerie—things weren’t right between us.

I expected to find him behind his desk, working, excited to see me bringing his favorite club sandwich from the Piggly Wiggly deli, only she was in his arms. My first reaction was shock, and I gaped at them in disbelief. Then hurt slammed into me. Then anger roared to the surface, and I yelled at them and slammed down his food, splattering ham and cheese and tomato all over his desk, and stormed out. I marched right over to the Cut ’N’ Curl, fists curled, ready to tell my family what they’d done, especially Mama. I fumed with glee, picturing Giselle falling off her pedestal.

I got all the way to the doors of the beauty shop and stopped.

I pictured Mama’s crestfallen face, how angry she’d be with Giselle. Part of me relished the idea, but I paused, battling with emotions, thinking hard about how their betrayal might change our family forever. My daddy died way too soon in a car accident, and even Nana’s husband died in his forties from a heart attack. For years the women in the Riley family have stuck together, carved out a life, the Daisy Lady Gang. Although Giselle always rolled her eyes when Aunt Clara called us that, deep down, she was part of our group. Did I want to rip that apart? Did I want Mama upset? Mama might have gotten over it after a while, but Aunt Clara never would have. She’s closer to me than anyone.

Family is all I have, really. It’s been entrenched inside me since I was little. It’s why after Nana died, I stayed in Daisy. Christmases at Nana’s, Mama’s meddling, Aunt Clara’s love life. All those memories swirled in my head. I didn’t want to break us up or cause a rip in the fabric of our lives—and that kiss was definitely a tear.

I didn’t want it to ruin everything we’d had for years—over a stupid man.

So I composed myself and walked in and announced that I’d broken up with Preston, and it was over. I made sure all the old ladies heard. Then I texted Preston and Giselle and told them to do whatever the heck they wanted. I used a few curse words.

Now, Mama believes Giselle picked up right where I left off. She didn’t like it at first, always sending me anxious looks at Sunday lunches, but I played it off as best I could.

“Let’s see this ring,” I say, leaning over the counter, shoving books out of the way.

Giselle moves stiffly, placing her long elegant fingers on the desk.

“Wow. Princess cut. A full carat?” I ask, inspecting it like it’s a bug. Not my taste. I like emeralds or rubies. Color.

“Yes. I—I didn’t know he was going to propose, or I would have told you first, Elena.”

“Uh-huh. I’ve been busy this week. Sorry I haven’t gotten back with either of you.”

She swallows, her face tight. “I never wanted to hurt you . . .”

“Yet you kissed him anyway.” I smile.

She closes her eyes briefly. “Yes. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t.” Her throat moves, her voice cracking just a little, and I cock my head, not used to emotion from her. I’m the emotional one. That’s my thing. She’s the cold one. “You walked in on something I didn’t plan to even happen.”

A lone tear falls down her cheek, and I blink. This is not like her at all.

“Then why did you do it?” I ask curtly.

We should have had a heart-to-heart months ago, but she’s been busy, living in Nashville since she got back, studying at Vandy, while I’ve just buried my head in the sand and sewn my heart out.

“I swear, that was the first time in his office. He asked me to stop by to talk about your birthday in August. I . . . I . . . don’t know what happened. He just . . . kissed me . . . and . . .” She blows out a breath, hands wiping at her cheeks. I grab a box of tissues and hand one to her. She takes it and dabs at her eyes. “Do you have any idea how hard it was growing up in your shadow? How the whole world gravitated to you when you walked in the room? Funny, sweet Elena with all the creativity.”