Page 59 of 'Til All the Seas Run Dry

Esther glared suspiciously at Robbie, who, to his credit, took it. He took it all. He let Esther stare daggers at him and didn’t flinch or fuss or glare back. He let himself be an open book for her to write her suspicion all over.

“So y’all are friends now?” Esther said tightly.

“As of very recently,” Jory answered cautiously. “Will that be a problem?”

“I don’t know,” Esther said, staring directly at Robbie. “Will it be a problem for me?”

“No,” Robbie replied.

“Are you sure?”

He sat up taller, meeting her gaze. “Esther MacLaren, sit your ass down and let me paint your damn nails.”

And that was that. It must have been a southern thing, the no-nonsense command that broke through Esther’s defenses because with a huff, she collapsed ungracefully to sit next to Jory, stretching her freckled hands on the table. Robbie unscrewed the polish and went back to Jory’s second coat.

“So have you decided what you’re wearing?” Esther asked.

“I think so.”

“Where’s he taking you? Where’s he taking her?” Esther asked, bouncing her question from one to the other.

Robbie bit his lips and shook his head, a mischievous look on his face.

“Is it something you brought back from Santa Fe? Something from the store?”

“Yeah,” Jory replied with a heavy sigh before taking another deep breath. “That’s something I want to talk to you about, though.”

“Oh, god. Did I fuck something up? Did I update the inventory wrong? I was so careful. I just?—”

“No, no. Nothing like that. You’re perfect. But I—” She flicked her gaze to Robbie, who was absorbed in getting her very last nail absolutely perfect. “I’m gonna be going away for a while soon. And I?—”

“Away?” Esther said, and Jory’s heart cracked a little at the anxiety that colored that word.

“Yes. Away.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a long time. And I… I want to give it to you. If you want it.”

“Give me what?”

“The store.”

Esther’s eyes looked as if they might bug out of her head.

“Jory, I don’t know the first thing about running a business! Or style. Or fashion. Oh my god! Do you remember when you first met me? I had like three T-shirts, a sweater, and a black hoodie. I own exactly two pairs of shoes, and they’re Docs and flip-flops. I don’t know the difference between a caftan and a kimono. And did I mention that I don’t know how to run a business? How am I supposed to run a business? You’re the style and the brains. I don’t?—”

“Esther?” Jory said gently, placing a hand on top of Esther’s, careful not to smudge the polish.

“Yeah?” Esther answered miserably.

“You don’t have to decide tonight. Just think about it. It doesn’t have to look the same as it does now. You and Magda could do more herbals and apothecary. You could consign local handmade goods. You could rent out mascot costumes.”

Robbie snorted, and Esther battled a smile.

“I own the building, and you could figure it out as you went without that pressure. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

Esther glared at her now. Jory almost laughed because Esther, normally so full of joy and humor, looked like a child who’d had her toy taken away when she glared like that.