“How’s Brian doing?” Heather hadn’t mentioned her nephew in a while. Claire always marveled at the little boy’s spirit. He was just as friendly now as he was before the chemo started.
“He’s doing good, health-wise.” Heather shook her head. “But his dad lost his job a year ago, as you know. They lost insurance benefits last month. The meds are really expensive. They’re trying to get assistance, but they have to scramble in the meantime.”
“I’m sorry.”
She gave a weak smile. “We’re working it out.”
Claire moved her lettuce around on the plate, finding the cherry tomato she’d seen hiding earlier and popping it in her mouth while Heather poured another sugar into her tea.
“How’s work other than the topic you’re avoiding, specifically the smokin’ hot Anderson brothers?”
“I’m typing up a brochure on some Greek urns. Wanna see?” She pulled up the picture she had sent to her phone. Heather had majored in history and completely geeked out over the stuff coming through the auction house just like she did. In fact, they had met in undergrad in an early civilizations class and had become fast friends over a mutual love of all things Egyptian. Other than a brief gig with a small antiques shop, Heather was unable to get a job with her history degree, so she took over and eventually bought out her sister’s employment agency.
“Nice.” Heather handed the phone back. “Have you started boxing up and selling Sissy’s place?”
Claire stabbed a piece of romaine, then dropped her fork. “I can’t seem to make myself do it. I know I need to put the apartment on the market and move on, but…” Her salad became a blur on her plate. “It’s really hard, you know.”
“Oh, hon.” Heather scooted her chair next to Claire’s with a metallic screech and then wrapped her arm around her shoulder. “It’s time to do something for yourself now. You did nothing but nurse sick people full-time.”
“Not full-time. I got my degrees.”
“Oh, yeah. You left to go to classes a couple of hours a day, four days a week. Big whoop-de-doo. Then you returned home to take care of your grandparents. You’ve taken care of people your whole life, pretty much. It’s time you took care of yourself. Cut free. Do something fun and reckless.”
“Like what?”
“Like get laid.”
Claire choked on the mouthful of water, and covered her mouth and nose with a napkin while Heather laughed.
“I’m serious. How long has it been? You haven’t dated anyone since that asshole Eric.”
It had been over a year, but until she laid eyes on hunky Will Anderson, her abstinence hadn’t even crossed her mind. Well, the sorry state of her nonexistent sex life was front and center now, which was why she was hiding in a deli with Heather, rather than eating lunch in the office like she usually did. One more close encounter with Will, and she’d be ripping her skirt seam on purpose.
“Are you still scheduled to leave for Egypt in two weeks? Have you packed yet?”
“That won’t take long. It makes no difference whether it’s a month or a year, I’ll only take what I can carry at one time by myself. I’m still waiting on the money and my passport.”
Heather moved her chair back around to face her. “I still can’t get over the size of the life insurance policy Sissy left you. It makes me feel a little better about you throwing your prime years away.”
“I didn’t throw anything away. I would have cared for Grandpa and Sissy for nothing. In fact, I didn’t even know about the money until the will was probated.”
“I bet that was a shock.” Heather made a squeaking sound. “You’ll be rich.”
And completely alone. “Yeah.”
Heather glanced at her phone. “Oh, shit. I have a one o’clock appointment. Gotta go.” She kissed her on the cheek, gathered her bag, and headed out the door like she’d been lit on fire. Heather never did anything halfway.
People on the street passed outside the deli window in a blur as Claire stared into space and fiddled with her salad. Maybe Heather was right. Maybe she needed to do something fun and reckless for once. And maybe, just maybe, that fun and reckless thing should involve her new, hotter-than-molten-lava boss, William Anderson.
She sighed at the mortifying level of Claire-ism potential that held. So many things could go wrong, and she couldn’t afford to leave this job until the life insurance policy paid out. She had bills to pay. Nope. Not going to happen. Always-responsible Claire would remain…responsible.
Chapter Four