I was still talking and Adam only stared at me. Maybe listening or maybe not. I couldn’t tell. It’s quite possible he had tuned me out three crazies ago.

“So. Yeah. He just wants to take a pottery class. That’s it,” I concluded, my tirade finally over.

“Okay, whatever. I’ll let you know when I’m leaving.” Adam got up and left the office.

I wasn’t offended by his abrupt departure. That was Adam. For better or for worse.

My phone rang, startling me. I answered it without looking at the screen, thinking it was Beckett. Trying not to notice the flurry of excitement in the pit of my stomach.

“Hello?” I sounded eager. Too eager.

Dial it down a notch!

“Have you put any more thought into selling the house?”

Ugh. Not Beckett.

“Tam, just so you know every time you bitch a fairy dies,” I remarked tiredly, already exhausted by a conversation that hadn’t even started yet. I was irritated that she wasn’t the person I wanted her to be.

I was really annoyed that I hadn’t checked the caller ID before answering.

When would I ever learn?

“I have about five minutes before my next meeting. I don’t have time for your droll humor.”

“Oh, well, don’t let me keep you,” I muttered.

Tamsin sighed. “Why do you have to make things so difficult? It’s a simple question. Have you thought any more about selling the house?”

I instantly tensed. “If you only have five minutes to talk, clearly now isn’t the time to discuss this.”

I could hear Tamsin talking to someone on the other end. There was a muffling and then a sound like she dropped her phone. Maybe the angels were smiling on me and the call would get disconnected.

“You still there?” my sister asked a few seconds later, and I cursed the cruel, cruel universe.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Having needles stuck under my nails would have been considerably more enjoyable than this conversation.

“I need you to start wrapping your head around the idea, Corin. Jared and I are planning to buy a house. I could use the money from the sale to help with the down payment. The upkeep of Mom and Dad’s place is going to bleed us dry.”

I couldn’t understand how cold and disconnected she was about the home where she grew up.

But then I had to wonder if she was right. Was I overly sentimental? Was I holding onto some sad relic of a past that I could never get back? That I couldn’t move on from?

“We’ve talked about this—”

“Look, Jared and I will be at a conference in Richmond at the end of the month. We’re staying in a hotel in Brecken Forest. I’m going to drive out to Southborough and plan to talk to a real estate agent while I’m there. I want to have the house appraised.”

“You can’t sell it without my consent, Tamsin! That house is in both of our names, damn it!” I yelled into the phone. I felt my blood pressure rise and I was getting seriously pissed off.

“You need to calm down, Corin. We’ve talked about this for a while—”

“Twice! We’ve talked about this twice! And those conversations involved you telling me our childhood home needs to be sold. I never agreed to it. I never said, ‘Okay, that sounds super duper.’ This is not going to fly, Tamsin. I have a say in what happens to Mom and Dad’s house!”

I was getting extremely worked up. I hated how my sister had this effect on me. How angry she made me. Like a fuming, foaming-at-the-mouth rabid animal, I wanted to rip her to shreds.

We were definitely not the poster children for sisterly love.

“Okay, well, I’ll call you when we’re in the area and we can have a chat, or whatever. But think about how much money this will free up for you, Corin. I can’t imagine that shop of yours being much of an earner. I’m sure you could use the extra cash,” Tamsin reasoned in her patented condescending way.

Given how I had just spent my morning poring over the business ledgers, her flippant comment hit a little too close to home.

“You know what they say about opinions. They’re like ass—” I started to say.

“I don’t have time for this. I’ll text you when I’m in town. We need to sell the house, Corin. It’s just logical. Stop letting your feelings get mixed up in all this. You have to think about this rationally and take emotions out of everything.”

“Like you do?” I muttered.

“Exactly. There’s a reason I’m an attorney with a successful career and you…well, you’re doing what you’ve always done. Feeling sorry for yourself.”

This time I did hang up.

It wasn’t much but it made me feel a smidgen better.

Chapter 12

Corin

“I have some ideas about things we can do in future workshops. I was watching this amazing documentary on the psychological benefits of doing art in the nude. My wife and I have been trying this for months now and the effect it has on our chi is unbelievable.”

Mr. and Mrs. Webber, aka the pervs, had been talking my ear off since they arrived ten minutes ago. I was trying to close up the shop and set up for the class but was having a hard time with the two of them chatting away about naked art and the sensual beauty of the plaster-molded penis.

“I don’t think we’ll be doing that kind of thing here, Mr. Webber,” I told him, trying not to gag at the thought of his naked, sweaty ass sitting on my chairs.

“I think it could make you more marketable to a whole new group of people. I have many friends that would come for the experience.”

I really didn’t want to contemplate the whole new group of people that would open me up to. I was, for once, glad for my tiny bubble that kept me cut off from the rest of the world.

“I have a lot to do before we start. Why don’t you go and grab an apron and have a seat by the pottery wheels. I’ll be over there soon.”

Thankfully, the Webbers decided to continue their gross conversation between themselves.

“God, give me strength,” I muttered under my breath as I reached up on my tiptoes, trying to grab ahold of the unopened blocks of molding clay from the top shelf.

“God’s pretty busy, but I’m sure I can help you out,” a deep voice said behind me. I startled and fell into the shelf, sending pots of paint and sculpting tools careening to the floor.

“Fucking hell!” I groaned, rubbing the elbow that I had bumped in the process.

“Shit, sorry, Corin. Here, let me get that.” Beckett leaned down and started gathering up the stuff that had fallen.

“I’m a klutz. It’s not your fault.” I tried to laugh but I sounded like a hyena.

“Am I late?” Beckett asked after we cleaned up.

“No. Just in time, actually. Though I wasn’t sure you were going to come.”

“Of course I’m here! I wouldn’t miss it!” he enthused, and I couldn’t help but smile. He made the whole being-happy thing so simple. So easy.

Beckett looked around. “Aren’t there going to be any other people?”

“This is it. Just you, me, and the orgy twins over there,” I quipped.

“I guess that means I get lots of one-on-one instruction, huh?” Beckett grinned and I turned to mush. A big pile of barely functioning mush.

“Here,” Beckett said, pulling something out of his pocket, and handed it to me. I looked down at the fifty-dollar bill and frowned.

“What’s this for?” I asked, trying to give it back to him.

Beckett pushed my hand away. “It’s for the workshop.” He leaned in close to me, his eyebrows wiggling. “What did you think it was for?” His voice was so deep. So raspy. It did strange things to my insides.