Page 2 of Never Forget
"Yeah?"
"Wanted to know when Uncle Sam was coming over. I told her you've been busy being a hero." He grinned.
"Heroic. Last shift I burned the station chili so bad we almost had to evacuate."
Jack grinned and took a swig of his beer. "That sounds about right. You're a menace in the kitchen."
I shook my head, still smiling. "I'll stop by to see her this week."
Jack nodded, satisfied. "Jamie called yesterday.”
The name landed in my chest the way it always did.
"Yeah? How's she doing?"
"Good. Busy." Jack picked at the label on his beer bottle. "She's working on some big project covering workplace safety legislation." He shook his head, but there was pride underneath it. "That's my sister. Always finding the story nobody else wants to tell."
"Sounds like her."
Jamie. Jack's younger sister. We'd been in each other's lives since before I could remember. We'd grown up together—same streets, same schools, same summers. She was always tagging along after Jack when we were kids, rolling her eyes at us when we were teenagers.
She'd always meant more to me than I knew how to say.
Not that I'd ever told anyone or dared to do anything about it. She was Jack's sister, and Jack was my best friend. Some lines you don't cross. So I'd kept my distance, watched her from the edges of rooms, and looked forward to her visits home more than I'd ever admit out loud.
After we graduated high school, she left Havensworth as fast as she could and built a life in New York. I always thought she was too smart and too sharp for this town. The last time I'd seen her was a year ago. The city had changed her in small ways. Theway she carried herself, the confidence in her voice. But she was still Jamie. Still just as beautiful as she'd always been.
"She's planning to visit after it wraps up to make up for missing Christmas."
"That's great." I tried not to sound too eager. Probably failed. Jack looked at me with that look he gave me sometimes when he saw more than I wanted him to see.
Before either of us could say anything, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I couldn't help a scowl when I saw who the text was from.
Amber.
Amber
Don't forget tomorrow. 7:00 p.m. Wear the navy suit. Mom wants pictures.
I stared at her text for a long moment. The navy suit. Pictures. Her mother's annual charity gala. The one that raised money for causes I couldn't name and attracted people whose net worth had more zeros than my yearly salary.
"Amber giving you hell again?"
I sighed. "Yeah."
"I thought you were going to break up with her?"
Amber Henderson.
We met at a bar one night when her friends dared her to get my number. I'd humored her. She was beautiful, fun, and easy to be around.
But easy was all it ever was.
Amber was twenty-three and had never known a hard day in her life. She'd grown up with money and comfort. Her parents smoothed every road before she had to walk it. It wasn't her fault. But I'd figured out early that we had nothing to talk about that mattered.
I tried once. I told her about a call that had gotten to me. Halfway through, I looked at her and realized she hadn't heard a word I'd said. She was looking at me, but she wasn't there.
