The phone was ringing. Cara gave a groan and felt around in the covers, whimpering a little as the light hit her eyes. Between cleaning up the diner and crying her eyes out, she felt like she had only just gotten to bed—and she strongly suspected that the clock saying 10:45AM was lying to her.

“Yes?” She managed, when she finally got the phone up to her ear.

“Ms. Ford?” A man’s voice asked.

“Uh-huh?”

“I’m Mack Nelson, the manager over at Best Beans coffee on First. You were recommended to us, and we were wondering if you could come in for a job interview at noon.”

Cara sat bolt upright, her heart racing. A job. A job.

“Yes, I can—yes. Of course. On First?” She tumbled out of bed, tearing open the closet door and rifling through the clothes hanging there. Skirt, knee-length. Cardigan, professional. Kitten heels. A glance in the mirror revealed hair that looked like a small shrubbery, and she grimaced. She needed to shower.

“That’s right. I’ll see you at noon.”

“Uh-huh. I mean, uh, thank you!”

Best Beans coffee. Who had recommended her? Not important. She skidded into the tiny bathroom and turned on the shower, brushing her teeth hastily as the water warmed.

“Mom?”

“Hi, Darren.” Cara smiled over at him and spat toothpaste into the sink. “Did you sleep well?”

Darren’s silky black hair slanted across his forehead, and his blue eyes were pale against his tanned face. For all that Cara might hate Craig—and right about now; she really did—she could never, never regret Darren. Smart and funny, Darren had brought more joy to her life than she knew existed, and uncovered a well of strength that Cara drew on when the world tried to beat her down. More shifts, more time away from home—she would do all that and more for Darren. She’d cleaned penthouses and held signs outside of pizza shops.

“I slept okay,” Darren said. He took in her ruffled hair and the makeup still on her face. “You got home late, though.”

“I had to clean the diner,” Cara said, hoping her smile didn’t show the anger that was rising in her chest again. Closing the diner. Why had he hired her if the diner was just going to close? “And I have a job interview in an hour.”

Being a barista wouldn’t be so bad, by contrast. Maybe even better than the diner. She was willing to bet the hours were more reasonable.

Darren’s face fell. “You’re…going to be gone more?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Cara walked over, holding him close. “No, I… the diner closed. So this would just be one job.”

But she needed two. She just couldn’t bring herself to tell him that. What mother could? No one was supposed to have to choose between keeping their kids fed and clothed, and seeing them every day.

She felt like she was racing as she scrubbed her face, washed her hair and drew it back tightly. Her curls had a way of escaping in the summer heat, and the last thing she needed was for this Mack person to think it would get in the coffee. A quick application of makeup, something to hide the circles under her eyes, and Cara slid into her interview clothes. She sighed with relief when she saw the time. She was going to be early. She liked being early.

For all the good it did when you worked in food service.

“Where are we going?” Darren asked curiously as they left. His latest book, something about space travel, was tucked under his arm. Cara tried not to let him see the wistfulness in her eyes when she looked at it, or read to him. Maybe someday Darren would have everything she’d dreamed of for herself. The thought roiled in her chest, as sweet as it was painful.

“The Financial District. I’d be making coffee for stockbrokers.” Cara hurried them down to the subway station near their house. She checked her phone, and suppressed a grimace; no call from Craig. Typical.

She flushed with shame to remember the call she’d made last night. She knew he’d be able to tell she was crying, and she’d begged him for money. She hadn’t ever begged before. She had screwed up her courage and whispered the plea, over and over, thinking it was all worth it if Darren had food and shelter.

And Craig didn’t even respond.

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Cara brushed a tear from her cheek. “I’m just tired.”

“You say that a lot,” Darren said softly.

“It’ll be okay,” Cara promised him. “This way.”

Up the stairs and off the train, and there it was: Best Beans, with a perky little logo of a coffee tree. Cara squared her shoulders and took Darren’s hand as she pushed her way into the store, edging around a line of people in expensive suits. Suddenly her best clothes felt inadequate. She could feel their eyes flicking over her: from the red-brown hair she hadn’t styled, to the blue eyes without makeup, and the lack of jewelry. The looks said she didn’t belong here.

“Cara?” A lanky man with white-blond hair held out his hand. “I’m Mack.”

“Hello, Mr. Nelson. Sweetheart, can you sit over there? I’m really sorry; I hadn’t arranged for a sitter today.” The polite lie tumbled off her tongue without even a flicker of her expression. Successful people had sitters.

“Of course.” Mack’s eyebrows rose as Darren settled down quietly and began to read. “Do you think you could teach my kids to do that?”

“I got lucky,” Cara said softly, feeling a smile tug at her lips as she watched her son. “He’s a good boy.” And she would fight to the death for him to have the opportunities she had squandered.

“Seems it. Now, Ms. Ford, have you ever worked in a coffee shop before?”

“No,” Cara admitted. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. “But I assure you, Mr. Nelson; I am a very quick learner. I’m neat; I’ll be a hard worker—”

“Oh, you come with glowing recommendations,” Mack assured her.

“I… meant to ask about that. Who recommended me?”

“For HR reasons, we can’t really discuss that. I hope you understand. Now, here, let’s go behind the counter and I’ll run through some of the tasks with you, see how you do. Sound good?”

“Sure,” Cara said warily. This was too easy.

Steaming milk, however, was not as difficult as she had imagined. Under Mack’s instruction, she ground coffee beans, refilled the dark roast pot, and restocked the refrigerators under the counter. By the end of it she was sweating, and she was sure she remembered none of it—but Mack nodded, seeming pleased.

“I think you’ve gotten the hang of it.”

“Oh, good.” Cara patted at her hair. “I’ll, uh… thank you for the opportunity. I’ll wait to hear from you.”

“No need.” The man smiled at her easily. “The job is yours if you want it.”

Cara stared at him. This wasn’t just too easy—it was much, much too easy.

“Why?” She asked him finally.

“You’re competent, you’re pleasant to speak to, and you come recommended. Making coffee isn’t very difficult—but good employees are few and far between.” He waited.

“I… I guess I’ll take it.” Cara shook her head, then remembered her manners. “Thank you very much for the opportunity, sir.”

“Don’t mention it. Your first shift will be tonight, starting at 5. People in finance work late and we—” he grinned at her “—keep them awake.”

Cara smiled. She nodded, said her good-byes, and fled, terrified that if she stayed a moment longer, he’d realize he had made a mistake and take the job away again. She was so absorbed that she nearly ran full-on into Lexie.

“Cara! You look nice.” Lexie smiled, and gave a little wave at Darren. “Hi, champ.”

“Hi, Lexie.”

“Come here often?” Cara asked.

“Eh, sometimes. My parents live around here, so I stop for coffee sometimes.”

“Did you… I mean, thanks. For recommending me.”

“I didn’t recommend you.” Lexie shook her head, wide-eyed. “But whoever did, maybe they’d recommend me, too? Making coffee can’t be that much more difficult than cooking eggs.”

“I think it would be less difficult,” Cara said, smiling. “Maybe they’re hiring for more than one job. You might as well go check.”

“Sure. Well, thank your mystery person when you see them. And… hi, Perry!”

“Lexie.”

The smooth voice sent Cara’s stomach plummeting. She waited until Lexie had made her way inside, and then she turned; eyebrow raised.

“Mr. Hammond.”

“Cara.” He smiled at her, and his eyes flicked to Darren. “Hello. I’m Perry.”

“I’m Darren,” the boy said. He smiled.

“What are you reading about?”

“Space travel. Mom likes to read about science. She used to be studying robotics.”

“That’s enough, sweetheart,” Cara said, panic swamping her as Perry’s eyes flicked up to hers. “It was nice to see you, Mr. Hammond, but I have to go.”

“Certainly. I, uh…” He looked flustered, all of a sudden.

“Yes?” Cara prompted him.

“I don’t suppose you’d consider going to dinner with me.”

“I…”

“You should go,” Darren piped up, “I like him.”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Maybe tomorrow night?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be working,” Cara said honestly. She didn’t like that she wanted to say yes. Everything in her head screamed for her to run—that men like this couldn’t be trusted. That they were too powerful to understand the real world.

“Ah.” Pleasure lit in his eyes. “You got the job, then.”

The bottom of her stomach dropped out, and anger followed quickly. After the confused tumult of feelings, the rush of rage was simple, easy to understand—and welcome. Cara felt her teeth clench.

“You recommended me?”

“In a manner of speaking. I simply told Mr. Smith that this coffee shop would be happy to hire people displaced when the diner closed. He recommended you.”

“And now you want to go to dinner,” Cara said. Her heart was beating very fast.

“Well, I… I wanted to go to dinner with you last night, but it seemed a bad time.”

“So you got me a job and now you want a favor in return.”

“It’s not like that at all.”

“Sure it isn’t.” Cara’s mouth twisted. “Goodbye, Mr. Hammond.”

“Where are we going?” Darren demanded as Cara pulled him away. “Aren’t you going to—?”

“No.”

“But I liked him,” Darren said plaintively.

“No,” Cara whispered again. Another dinner, another man pretending to care about robotics, about Darren, about Cara’s dreams. And then, inevitably, the betrayal. She barely had enough left in her to make it to work in the mornings. She could not live with more heartbreak.