“I’m so sorry!” I say at the exact
same time she does, and I look up to see a familiar face staring back, but I
can’t place it.
She blinks azure eyes and then her
whole face lights up. “Zoey?
Zoey Quinlin? Oh my God!”
She’s hugging me before I realize
what’s happening. I wrap the hand not covered in latte around her back and
return the embrace. She pulls back, still holding my shoulders, and smiles.
“Holy crap! It’s been over ten years! Oh my God.” She pauses and glances around
before adding in a softer voice, “It’s Dixie. Dixie Braddock. You used to
babysit me at my family’s summer cottage in Maine. You were friends with my
brother, Jude.”
“Holy shit! Dixie Braddock?” I
can’t believe it. The last time I saw her she was thirteen. Wheat hair; pink,
suntanned skin; freckles across her nose and chronically scabbed-up knees from
trying to keep up with her older sisters and brother, who were all daredevils
on their bikes and skateboards and surfboards. Babysitting them—well, the
girls, anyway—for the two years I lived in Maine was a highlight of my summers.
And so was seeing their brother. Shit, I hadn’t thought of Jude Braddock in a
while. I find myself smiling now that I am.
“You live in San Fran?” she
questions as she takes my elbow and leads me over to the counter and hands me a
napkin for my latte- soaked hand.
“Yeah. Stayed local after college,”
I explain as I put down the latte and wipe my hand. “And you live here?”
She nods, her sleek blond bob
moving like a curtain around her face. She looks close to the tiny thing I
babysat but much more refined and beautiful now. I do the math: she’s only
twenty-four, but she looks more put together than any twenty-four-year-old I’ve
known.
“Yeah. I went to school for sports
media, then interned with the San Francisco Thunder hockey team, and they hired
me full- time this year.” Her eyes dart around, and her voice drops again.
“Jude plays for them, so I use my mom’s last name, Wynn, so no one thinks he
got me the job. He didn’t.”
“Jude is in San Francisco?” I don’t
know why I felt the need to say that with such breathless shock. I knew he made
the NHL, but I had thought he was playing in Milwaukee. That’s where he was
last time I Googled him, which was three years ago, before I married Adam.
“Yeah. Got traded a couple years
ago,” Dixie explains. “So how’s your family? Where’s your dad preaching now?”
“He’s retired. Mom and Dad are in
Sacramento,” I explain. “My brother, Morgan, is a teacher here in San
Francisco.”
“Morgan!” She laughs and her cheeks
turn a little pink. “Sadie, Winnie and I had such a crush on your brother when
we were little. Remember we used to keep begging you to invite him over when
you were watching us?”
I nod and can’t help but smile
back. Yeah, that memory hasn’t faded. The Braddock girls wanted my brother to
come over, but I never invited him. Not because he was gay, which I already
knew at that point, but because if Morgan was around, he would tease me about
gawking at Jude, which I always did if he happened to come home before Mr. and
Mrs. Braddock’s date night ended.
Dixie glances at her phone in her
hand, and I realize we both must have been looking at our screens when we
collided. She frowns. “I have to go. I have a meeting at the arena in twenty.”
She puts a hand on my arm again. “But I would love to catch up with you, and I
know Winnie and Sadie would too. They’re going to be in town this weekend.
Would you be able to do brunch?”
“Yeah, I can do brunch,” I reply
and am shocked at how excited I am at her suggestion. I haven’t really done
much of anything social since the separation. I kind of lost touch with a lot of
my friends after marrying Adam and adopted his circle of friends. And they all
promptly orphaned me after the separation. I didn’t care much because I didn’t
feel up to social interaction, but suddenly this seems like a pleasant
distraction from my reality. The Braddock family was one of my favorite parts
of my childhood.
“Amazing!” Dixie almost squeals. “How about
tomorrow. Eleven?”
I nod. “Where?”
“You pick.”
“MKT?” I blurt out because it’s in
my hotel and I’m too flustered to think of anything else. To be honest, I don’t
even know what they serve for brunch.
“Great! Sadie loves that place, and
she’s normally impossible to please.” She hugs me again. “See you tomorrow!
Winnie and Sadie are going to be so excited!”
And then, before I can even lift my
hand to wave, she’s back out the door. She never even got a coffee, but she
doesn’t seem to notice. I’m more dumbfounded and confused than I was from the
phone call with Minerva. The Braddocks are here. Well, at least Jude and Dixie
are here. In San Francisco. Where I live. When the hell did that happen?
I look around the coffee shop to
make sure there’s no one else from my past lurking around. A teacher, a
neighbor, another sister of an old unconsummated love. Although Jude was my
only unrequited love, but he did have three sisters. Whom I will be having
brunch with tomorrow. Crazy!
I slip out of Peet’s and
concentrate on the clicking of my heels as I make my way back over to my
office. I finally take a sip of my jostled latte. It’s barely warm but the caffeine
still manages to clear my head a little. Not enough that eagle-eye Marti
doesn’t notice something is up.
“Everything okay?” she wants to
know as she stands at her desk, gathering things she needs for her day and
placing them in her bag. “You look more out of it than you did before the
coffee.”
“I ran into someone I haven’t seen
in a long time,” I murmur, and for some reason Jude’s seventeen-year-old face
floats through my head, not Dixie’s from this morning. “The last time I saw her
was in Maine eleven years ago, so it was surprising.”
“Wow.” Marti takes a break from
filling her Michael Kors satchel with listing flyers. “Small world, huh? I love
when that happens. Unless it’s someone I hate. Was it someone you hate?”
“No. Not at all,” I reply and drop
down gently into my seat. “She and her sisters were sweethearts. Seems like
they still are. I’ll definitely find out, because I’m having brunch with them
tomorrow.”
“Cool.” Marti isn’t paying attention
anymore. Her eyes are focused across the room on Parker McDavid, who is the
owner of our company. He’s midforties, tall with a dad bod that is oddly at-
tractive, probably because he covers it in perfectly tailored designer clothes.
His dark hair is graying in all the right places, like George Clooney’s, and
his eyes are warm and his smile is kind. But he’s an astute businessman who
expects a lot from his Realtors, and Marti is constantly trying to impress him.
I am too, if I’m being honest, but I’m new. She’s not new, but she’s still
hungry.
“I’m going to tell Parker about the
deal I just closed, and then I’m off for a condo showing,” Marti explains and
barely even waves good-bye as she hustles toward the kitchen Parker just
disappeared into for his morning croissant and English Breakfast tea.
I open my laptop and pull up my
email, determined to keep my mind focused on work. I need to send a follow-up
email regarding the potential Haight listing, but my brain is bouncing from
Adam to Dixie.
One future encounter I’m dreading—confronting Adam—and one
I’m looking forward to—seeing the Braddock sisters. But the one that isn’t
destined to happen is the one that fills me with excitement I haven’t felt in a
long time—the potential that since I’m meeting three Braddock siblings I might
also run into the fourth: Jude.
