“I know how hard this is, but you’re strong, Avery. You’re so strong. So much stronger than I am.” Like she had all those nights Avery woke to nightmares. “Whether this is about Trace or the café or David, whatever it is, we’ll work it out together.” Like she had when the kids at school made fun of her. “I promise you everything’s going to work out.” Like she had when their father yelled or hit them. “You’re not alone, Avery.”
And just when she’d cried herself out, a soft knock sounded on the door.
Avery didn’t look up. She covered her face and wiped at the mess with both hands.
“Do I need to kick someone’s ass?” Ethan’s low, steely voice, laced with just the right amount of this-is-becoming-a-regular-thing made Avery burst out laughing.
But her exhaustion sucked away the relief like a vacuum. “MaryAnn Holmes,” she said, pulling in a shaky breath and cutting a look at Ethan. “Think you can take her?”
His handsome face went deadly serious. Eyes narrowed, mouth tight in a contemplative frown. His light eyes darted toward Delaney, who gave him a yeah-probably nod and shrug.
To which Ethan said, “She doesn’t drink beer anyway. Consider it done.”
And he left, closing the door.
Avery started laughing again, and only when Delaney gave him a thumbs-up through the glass did Ethan wander away to give the sisters privacy.
“God, he’s a dream,” Avery said.
“He is. And it took me a damn long time to find him.” Delaney reached out and tucked Avery’s hair behind her ear. “Want to tell me what happened with MaryAnn?”
That almost unbearable weight came down on Avery again, and she grabbed a box of Kleenex off the bookcase nearby to wipe her face and blow her nose. Then heaved a stuttering
sigh and said, “She doesn’t want Willow working at the café because of what happened this morning.”
Delaney frowned, shaking her head. “Because . . . ?”
Avery explained and Delaney made a that’s-ridiculous sound. “I’m sorry.” She propped her elbow on her desk and propped her chin in her hand. “We’ll have to put our heads together and come up with some alternatives. You might just have to train someone from scratch. Is that really all this breakdown was about?”
“I think it was just the straw. Everything’s been building.” She sat back in the chair and crossed her arms. “Why’d you hire Trace?” When Delaney frowned, Avery clarified, “You seemed to know he had good character even though he’d been to prison. How did you know you could trust him? Everyone is so ready to jump to the worst possible conclusion.”
Delaney thought about it for a second. “I first met Trace back when I was dating Chip. He was the one who—”
“Got in the fight at the bar and killed Ian.”
“Right.” Her smoky-blue eyes grew even darker. “But he was also a very successful drug dealer. And there were several times when Trace bought from him while Chip and I were together.”
Avery sat forward, frowning. “Then how could you—”
“One, because he was buying prescription drugs. You don’t have to hang around drug dealers long to figure out that men Trace’s age don’t buy prescription drugs for themselves. They buy them to sell or they buy them for someone else.”
“And two?”
“He didn’t buy enough to sell.”
“Is there a three?”
“His father was always waiting in the car.”
Yes, Avery could see it. She nodded.
“You don’t look surprised,” Delaney said.
“I figured it out on my own. Why didn’t you tell me this?”
Delaney lifted a shoulder. “Because it was really neither here nor there. He bought drugs illegally and went to prison for buying drugs illegally. He knew it was wrong, but he still did it. I’m not saying I don’t feel for the guy—I mean, who would understand more than us, right?”
Avery nodded.