Page 19 of Fake It Till You Make It

“This is still my business.”

“I know,” she said, her tone gentling.

Leah chimed in. “Wow, did you see how excited the women are about the bachelor auction? They booked out the afternoon schedule.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of weird to make this much money for the clinic from bachelor auction–generated consultations.” Amarie offered a half smile, trying to envision Eli as gallant as the women described the man in the photo. “I still can’t believe you looked that good in your military uniform.”

“You made that point yesterday,” Eli grumbled.

“The picture doesn’t look like you up close nor at a distance,” Amarie chirped.

“Whatever, you.” He rolled his eyes, before dragging the conversation in a different direction. Though Amarie could stay right here, with the focus off her.

“So, they actually paid the consultation fee?” His tone was disbelieving.

“Yes.” Amarie nodded. “Your time is money. Count on me to collect every penny owed.”

“Imagine that. Asking your customers to pay for services rendered.” Leah smiled, a little more than vindication in her voice. There was a large dose ofI told you so.

Amarie fisted the dollar bills from the cash box and paraded the small booty in front of Eli’s wide eyes. “Six hundred and seventy-eight big ones.”

“Give me that,” he said, pocketing today’s revenue.

“Way to go, Amarie,” Leah cheered. “Let’s celebrate your second day with dinner at the Black Bear.”

“Ah, I’ll stay and lock up.” She’d dodged the question about her car, but she didn’t think the same tactic would work twice if he asked where she stayed in town.

“This is Service. We don’t lock doors. Now go on.” Eli pointed to the door.

Where could she go? She didn’t have the money for lavish restaurant food. Anxiety gripped her stomach. Panic ripped through her chest. Breathing against the clawing pinch of her airway heightened her discomfort. Fear of discovery spread, biting into her until she felt genuine pain seize her limbs. Her nostrils started to burn, first inside, then moving higher until tears swelled and her head spun. She pushed back against the rushing tide. It had been many years since she’d slept in the back of a car. But she’d survived it once. And this time it would be her choice.

“Please, come.” Leah hooked her arm through Amarie’s elbow. “It’s my treat.”

Amarie wavered on now-trembling legs. With one hand she gripped her desk, her world slowed. Waters receded. Rotation ceased.

“Yes.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “Thank you.” She gripped Leah’s hand tighter than called for. “Thank you so much.”

“Pick up the mail while you’re in town, office manager,” Eli called from his office. “Momma’s got the box key.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Amarie sniffed, grabbing her purse from the desk drawer before relocking it. “I’m ready.”

“Amarie.”

She stiffened at the stern timbre in Eli’s voice. She’d almost made it. She envisioned the champagne waterfall on the way into town—plunging down, like her; crashing, like her; swept up, like her—until the current scattered the last of her pummeled remains. Turning, she braced herself the impending rejection.

“Yes?” That sounded too shaky, but at least it was just her voice.

“You earned another day on the job.”

Amarie followed Leah out the front door, but not before saying to Eli, “Thanks… boss.” She smiled so big, her jaw hurt. He actually wanted her to stay. Nothing could ruin her day. The thing about being wrong was that she rarely saw it coming before it hit her in the face.

Chapter Six

AMARIE DIDN’T TRUSThim. Was it funny that neither of them trusted the other? Eli contemplated the question while Hiccup ran around the backyard, his tail a proud banner waving in high praise of his athletic ability. Familiar with his routine, Eli started on his pal’s dinner bowl.

Only twenty minutes had passed since the women had departed, so he took his time reviewing Amarie’s text updates regarding Calvary Clinic. She’d ended each message with a different glowing, round-faced emoji. During his years in the Army, not one of his many tasks ended with a happy face. Eli shook his head. “Women.”

He took the shortcut across the Cattail Creek foot bridge into downtown Service. There wasn’t much to Main Street, just enough to have everything he needed after a hard day’s work—a cold beer, a hot meal, and fast music, the genre varied with his mood. Country to cool a hot head. Rhythm and blues to warm an empty bed. Hard rock to wake the dead for another day. The Black Bear provided all three. Didn’t matter if you lived uptown or downtown, when the work ended, family and friends gathered here Monday through Saturday.Sundays were reserved for the faith center. The owner, Gracie Lou, and her fiancé, Caleb, had an arrangement with the local minister. To facilitate the pews were full at the faith center, the pub opened after noon on the one day the community reserved for rest… and fishing.