Lillian sat on the living room couch, working on her laptop. There was work to do, and mourning over not having Cayden around wasn’t going to make the work go away. It should be a welcome distraction. When the phone rang, she didn’t recognize the strange number on the screen or the area code. Figuring it was a potential client, she answered. She did no advertising; her business ran solely on word of mouth. It was probably a friend of Claire’s. Usually it was, since Claire hardly ever stopped talking and was more obsessed with organizing her home than Lillian ever could be.

Except this time, it wasn’t a friend of Claire’s. It was a girl with a sultry accent who lived in Los Angeles. She did acting, singing, producing, all the things, and desperately needed her help. Her first name was Katharina. She almost forgot what the woman’s last name was.

Naturally, Lillian was curious how this established woman had found out about her, so she asked. The answer was the last thing she expected.

“My trainer,” gushed the woman. “We, uh... never mind,” she giggled, “Anyway, he came by my place last night and saw my mess. I moved in three months ago and have barely unpacked my shoes! I don’t know how you know him, since you aren’t near Los Angeles, but he wouldn’t stop talking about how good you are at organizing. You make chaos simple, he said. He also said you could help me. Can you help me?”

At the word “trainer” she froze. It couldn’t be him. When I told him to see other people, I meant for him to detach from me. Except, her heart rate quickened at the possibility. He told another woman about her? Her racing heart skidded to a stop. Was he trying to rub it in that he’s seeing other people? Slowly, she asked, “What’s your trainer’s name?”

The woman laughed daintily into the phone. Lillian heard her take a sip of something. “You must know. No one can forget a face—or body—like his. It’s Cayden. Cayden Manos. And let me tell you he’s simply incredible; he convinced me in about half a second that hiring you would help me.”

Cayden Manos. The name echoed in her mind and bounced off the sides of her skull. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything.

“Well, do you think you can come here?”

The question was so direct she had to take a deep breath. “I’m actually quite busy with my other clients here in my town—”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll paying for all your transportation and accommodation, so if you think money is an issue it most certainly is not. I’ll pay double what you usually charge, on the short notice.”

Paying for everything? In all the time she had been doing this, no client had ever offered her this sort of treatment. “What sort of time frame are you looking at?”

“I’ll fly you here tomorrow, then. Excellent.”

“Whoa—uh, sorry, Katharina.” The name felt clunky as she said it. “I need to think about my appointments booked this week.”

“Meet with them next week.”

Lillian’s first reaction to the demand was defense, but then she entertained the thought of dropping everything and going to get this woman’s house in order. It wasn’t an eventful week. She had all her usual appointments, no new ones, and no variations in her schedule.

Could it actually be done?

“Honestly, darling, I’m so desperate. I have a large antique bookshelf in the middle of my living room. One of my couches is still covered in plastic. Nothing’s unpacked. I go shopping so I don’t have to do laundry.”

She winced. The mess in Katharina’s house sounded awful. How had she only gotten her shoes unpacked in a whole three months? Despite the connection to Cayden, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by this opportunity. It was far too tempting. But she didn’t want to think about Cayden being in the house with Katharina to see this mess with his own two eyes. Except, she couldn’t stop thinking about it either. What would he say if he saw her in L.A.? Would it hurt too much? Or would it be worth the risk?

“I’ll tell you what.” She thought carefully, trying to balance her left and right brain. “Let me talk to my clients here to make sure I can come. Since they’re counting on me here, and all.”

“Do you own the business?”

Lillian thought it was a strange question. “Yes, it’s mine.”

Katharina grunted. “But you don’t make the decisions?”

“I do make the decisions. I want to honor my clients here, who have been with me for a long time.”

“I see. Call them now and ring me back.”

If anyone else had said these words to her, Lillian would have been greatly offended. Something about Katharina’s accent and gentle, feminine voice didn’t irritate her, oddly enough. “I will. Talk to you—”

“Yes, later, then. I’m so excited to meet you, Lillian. You seem like such a wonderful girl.”

The phone beeped, and Lillian looked at the screen. Katharina had hung up. A bit confused at everything that just happened, she stared at the screen until it went black.

“Are you all right?” Andrew’s voice floated in from the kitchen, along with the smell of chicken.

“Yeah,” she called back weakly, but her voice carried no further than the room. She slumped on the couch to gather her thoughts, but there were too many. Overwhelmed, she leaned back and pulled an accent pillow against her chest, hugging it tightly.

He’s talking about me to the girls he’s moving on with. It couldn’t be true. Katharina hadn’t said anything about them together—not that she would have anyway, if they were just meeting and hooking up casually.

But Cayden doesn’t hook up with people. Every time he had opened up to Lillian about past relationships, he had made it clear that each one was an intentional attempt to get something going. She couldn’t recall a single time he had mentioned anything casual with anyone.

Oh, come on. He’s a sexy personal trainer. He must be hooking up with people, especially if he’s been in Los Angeles for so long and is now single.

Lillian pushed the pillow over her face, trying to silence her inner demons. She wished desperately that he would have just disconnected from her completely, so she would have no room to wonder what he was doing—and with whom he was doing it.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case, and now she was being pulled into working with this woman who was his client.

I wonder if he even knows she called me.

“Hey, you okay?”

Not bothering to move from under the pillow, she stuck her thumb in the air.

A weight pressed on the edge of the couch. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she grumbled.

“Something definitely happened. Unless you’re just feeling nauseated. Are you having a flare- up?”

“I hope not.”

“Okay. Tell me if you feel sick.”

“I don’t feel sick.”

“Then what happened?”

He’s not going to give up on this. She shoved the pillow away and looked up at Andrew’s face. “I got a call.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know. I heard your phone ring and you talking.”

“It’s about Cayden.”

Andrew pressed his lips together. “Oh, boy. This is a talk for dinner. Get in here.” Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet and through the house to the kitchen. The smell of dinner made her mouth water.

“I’ll fix the ice.”

“No. Sit,” he commanded, and pulled out a chair from the table. Feeling slightly awkward, she sat there obediently as he fixed their plates and drinks. Before he sat down, he stopped suddenly and held up one finger. “I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

Andrew didn’t answer; Lillian heard something else pouring. He came back and set down a glass of wine in front of her.

“Wine!” she squealed.

“It’s organic. I thought it might be easier on your stomach.”

“Thank you, Andrew. This is all so nice.” She wasn’t sure what to say. Last time Andrew had come, when Cayden was over every day and stayed over most nights, he hadn’t gone to this much trouble to cook and make her feel like a queen. Last time he had bought a pizza, and that was it.

He told you before that he isn’t planning to make a move on you. She had to keep telling herself that. When he told you he had feelings, you made it clear that you don’t feel the same. All this trouble doesn’t mean anything. He’s being nice. Still, the thought of her “brother” having some ulterior motive made her squirm inside.

“All right, dig in. You look pale.” She couldn’t detect any sort of flirty undertone in Andrew’s voice; he sounded very normal. Perhaps a bit too caring, but not unlike his usual self.

She took a bite of the chicken and rice. “This is delicious. How did you do it?”

He smiled. “Mom’s recipe. I’d give it to you, but you don’t cook like this, so...”

Lillian chuckled through another bite. “It wouldn’t be any good. If I end up with someone who cooks, I’ll probably get you to hand it over.”

She expected him to laugh and make some snide remark back, but he just smiled down at his plate and chewed a mouthful.

Maybe I shouldn’t mention relationships around him. She got the vibe that Andrew’s feelings were a little more fragile than she had expected.

“Well, anyway,” he said after a few moments, “tell me about this call.”

Her stomach lurched. “The thought of it just made my whole appetite disappear.”

“Never mind. Finish eating, then tell me.”

She nodded dully, ignoring that the energy between them had totally shifted since she made the recipe comment. Drama with Andrew is the last thing I need right now.

They made light conversation over the rest of the meal and cleaned the kitchen together. He poured her more wine and wouldn’t let her wipe the table, commanding her to go sit down in the living room by the heater. She knew he was trying to spoil her, but she wasn’t used to not doing anything when there was company over.

Come to think of it, she wasn’t used to not doing anything ever.

“Phew,” Andrew sighed, plopping down on the couch. “All clean. Now we can relax.”

All she could think about from her position in her reading chair was that Cayden had lounged in the exact spot where Andrew sat now.

“You look upset.”

“I wish I could have helped you cook,” she replied quickly.

“Don’t worry about it.” He propped his feet up on the ottoman and folded his arms behind his head. “Tell me about earlier. Cayden called?”

She took a deep breath and curled up in the corner of the big chair. “It wasn’t Cayden who called. But he arranged the call.”

Lillian could see the gears spinning in Andrew’s head. “I don’t get it.” Andrew glanced toward the window. “Cayden’s in Los Angeles, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I thought that after the breakup and telling him to move on and see other people, I wouldn’t hear anything from him. At most, I expected to hear something if he came back to get his stuff from his house and move out there.”

“Why would he need to talk to you if he came back to move away?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I organized all his shit when he first moved away, so maybe he would need to ask me something. That’s beside the point. The point is, he’s still talking about me.”

“About you?”

“I told him to move on. I think he is, with some client of his. She has an accent, I think from Europe. I know nothing about this chick.”

“And you’re upset that he’s moving on?”

“No, not at all.” She rubbed her neck. Her body felt tense. “But, this woman calls me up.”

Andrew’s eyes lit up. “Oh. She told you off?”

“The opposite. I think that’s why I’m kind of wigged out right now.”

“What’s the opposite of telling off? Did she profess her love for you or something?”

Lillian scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Cayden apparently told her about what I do. She just moved and can’t get organized. By the sound of it, her house is in an awful mess right now and she needs help.”

“And Cayden has to do what with this?”

“Don’t you get it?” She sat up and stared Andrew in the face. “Cayden is supposed to be disconnecting from me. I broke up with him and told him to move on. To see other people. I told him that I would, too. I’ve tried everything to get him to forget about me, and yet here he is, talking about what I do to one of his hookups, who happens to need someone help her settle into her house.”

The only noise in the room for a little while was the buzz of the heater. Andrew fixated on his feet, his brow furrowed. Lillian remembered his deep-thinking face from when they were younger. He had always done the same thing when something was really wearing on his mind.

“So this woman wants you to help her?”

Lillian nodded. “She wants to fly me out tomorrow.”

Andrew’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Short notice. I’m pretty sure she’s loaded, Andrew. She said she would cover all my expenses. Accommodation, flights, transport—everything.”

“How do you know she’s legit?”

“Cayden only works with the elite. The top ten percent. If he was at her house seeing all this for himself, it must be legit.”

“Good point.” Andrew looked back at his feet. “I don’t know, Lillian.”

Here it comes. She knew he would give his opinion sooner or later. She had just been hoping for later. Preferably after she was already in Los Angeles, if she ended up going. “Don’t know about what?”

He gave her a “don’t be stupid” look. “You know exactly what I’m going to say.”

“I know exactly what Amelia would say,” she tried to argue, but caught herself in her own trap. “I guess it would be similar to what you would say, since you’re siblings and all.”

“What would Amelia say, then?”

“What were you about to say?”

“I don’t think you should help this woman,” he said simply, not wavering in his gaze at her. “If she wasn’t so closely connected to Cayden, then by all means have at it. She must be loaded enough to sponsor your trip and have a house in Los Angeles.”

“So you don’t have an issue with me not knowing her or anything?”

He shook his head. “Not particularly, but that might be because she’s so close to Cayden. So it’s likely that I would if that connection wasn’t there.”

Lillian frowned. “This whole thing seems like a catch 22.”

“I just wish she could be linked to someone else. Anyone.”

“I don’t know anyone else in Los Angeles, though. But it’s a nice thought.”

Andrew made his thinking face again. “Anyway, you have clients here.”

“Actually, I was thinking about calling them to cancel this week.” At Andrew’s surprised expression, she quickly explained herself. “I mean, I only have four appointments this week, and they’re all people I see pretty much every week. So it’s not a big loss.”

“But they’re depending on you.”

“They would be fine for one week, Andrew. It’s just organizing their houses. It’s not brain surgery.”

“I can’t understand it.”

“The organizing part? I know, you’re crazy messy.”

“Hey,” he pointed at her, “I’m much neater now than I used to be.”

“Fair enough.” She took a sip of wine, lamenting that she could see the bottom of the glass already.

“That’s not it, though. I just—I’m just confused by you. It seems like every time I think I can predict what you’re going to do or how you’re going to handle something, I’m wrong.”

Gray Cat jumped onto the chair and curled up in Lillian’s lap. She scratched the cat’s ears. “How am I responding differently now?”

“What do you want, Lillian?” Andrew asked sharply. “It’s really hard to help you when you’re vacillating between decisions.”

Vacillating? “What do you mean?” Her face felt flushed from two glasses of wine. It seemed more potent than she remembered wine being.

“I guess...” Andrew shifted, crossing a leg underneath him. “I can’t figure out what you want. First, you break up with Cayden and make sure he knows there’s not another chance. You tell him to move on which, clearly, he’s not doing. Do you want to get back with him?”

“No,” Lillian retorted quickly. “I mean, yes, but no.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow.

“Of course I do, Andrew. But I’m not the best for him. I would only hold him back. I wonder if I was holding him back at all when we were still together.” She was getting emotional. “Either way, he’s free to find someone who can spur him on more than I ever could.”

“So, the answer is no, your intention is not to get back with him?”

She shook her head. “Correct.”

“So why in the hell would you fly all the way out to Los Angeles, for who knows how long, to help the woman he’s moving on with?”

“We don’t know if he’s getting together with her,” she muttered sheepishly.

“That doesn’t matter. But I mean, be real. He was at her house.”

“Maybe he trains her at her house.”

“Come on, Lillian. I know it’s tough to imagine him with someone else, but he’s doing what you asked him to do.”

“I didn’t ask him to spread the word about my business to his hook-ups.”

“I thought you just said you weren’t sure if he was hooking up with her or not.”

Lillian’s loud groan startled the cat, who jumped to her feet with saucer-sized eyes. “It’s okay, kitty, lie back down,” she tried to soothe the animal, but made an ugly face at Andrew. “I know I’m going back and forth. Obviously, I’m conflicted about this.”

“Make up your mind, already.” He said it in a low voice, but it was passive-aggressive enough to make her blood boil.

“What’s your problem, Andrew? You’re being really obstinate right now.”

He set both feet on the floor and scooted forward to the edge of the sofa. “Of course. I think this is a big mistake, and I think you’ll end up getting back together with Cayden.”

“Honestly, that’s not the worst thing in the world that could happen, you know. He’s not a serial killer. He’s a great guy; it was just my choice to break up with him because I saw how I would hold him back in the future.”

“It seems bad enough to me. You can’t seem to get over him.”

Lillian was fuming. “How can you say that? I just broke up with him a week ago! The wounds are still fresh!”

“I wanted to help you get over it quickly.”

“You are helping, but not by acting so coldhearted about the whole thing.”

“Maybe I’m being sort of cold about it because I wanted something different.”

His words froze her. Please, no. Not this again. Please don’t do this, Andrew.

“Maybe...” The corners of his mouth turned down. “Maybe I wanted you to see how much happier you are with me than you were with Cayden.”

“Andrew,” she tried, without any plan of what she should say after his name.

“I know,” he cut her off. “I know I shouldn’t have brought it up. I thought last time was going to be the only time, but I couldn’t shake it. And now you’re single—”

At a loss, Lillian held up her hand to stop his rant from going any further. “Andrew, please stop.”

“I’m sorry.” Immediately he stopped talking, but she knew by his face and tense body language that he wasn’t done yet. “I wouldn’t leave you, Lillian.”

“You live in another city, Andrew. Think about it.”

“I would move here. I would ask for a transfer to this factory, here in Hanneston.”

“You don’t even know if that would pan out.” She was trying to get him to think about what he was saying, but realized she was encouraging his ideas. “Listen, it’s not even worth your energy trying to figure it out.”

The sadness in his eyes when he dared to look at her almost put tears in hers.

“I’m sorry, Andrew,” she whispered.

“I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s okay.”

“It might all be psychological.” He swallowed, and Lillian knew it was the dreaded lump of emotion. “You know the anniversary is coming up.”

All at once, Lillian’s heart stopped. The room disappeared as she realized what month it was.

“I...” she squeaked, but couldn’t say anything.

Andrew cast his gaze out the window at the darkness. “So I might just be missing her. And you’re the closest thing to her that I have.”

She felt the world start to spin and clutched the arm of the chair. It felt like lying down after a few too many tequila shots. No matter how sleepy you are, the spinning makes your stomach churn.

“Can we forget this conversation happened?”

It was a simple question, and asked so innocently. “Andrew,” she whispered, “I’ll be here for you forever. You don’t have to worry about losing me. And you know Amelia is with us, too.”

He shook his head.

“I know she is,” Lillian said, and let out a tinkly laugh. “Whenever I’m losing my shit, I literally hear her voice in my head calling me out on it.”

That brought a smile to Andrew’s face. “Sounds just like Sis.”

“I mean, where would we be today without her voice of reason?”

“Probably still trying to establish a successful dog-walking business,” Andrew said nonchalantly, and at the reminder of their younger days they both laughed. For a split-second, it felt like Amelia was there laughing along with them. The air turned much lighter from its prior negativity.

Andrew started to laugh harder than before, and Lillian wondered what in the world had gotten into him. He was holding his face in his hands, and she quickly realized he wasn’t laughing anymore. He was crying.

In an instant she was by his side, holding him tight and rocking him back and forth. Visions of the three of them together before Amelia was killed haunted her mind, and she was brought to tears. When Andrew felt her wracking sobs, he put his arms around her also.

They cried on the couch together for several minutes, letting their grief separate from them at last. Although they weren’t talking, they both were seeing the same things inside their minds: the three of them walking along an old railroad. Ice cream dates. Stealing beer from the stock in the fridge late at night. Amelia hugging them for good luck before a job interview. Andrew and Lillian waving as she drove off. Coffee at a local place down the street, just the two of them, talking about how well she would do in her interview. The phone ringing an hour later. Rushing to the hospital. Lots of machines with lines that should have been fluctuating. Too many tears to see the rest.

Finally, Lillian pulled back and looked Andrew in the eye. “I think she would want me to take this job. It’s a really good chance for me.”

Andrew, after a long pause, nodded slightly. “If you think you should, then do it. I’ll be waiting for you when you come back.”

***

THE NEXT MORNING WAS full of phone calls. Lillian called each of her appointments to confirm the week off, and arranged for someone to come look after the cats on the days after Andrew left.

I hope this Katharina girl doesn’t cancel on me after making all these phone calls, she thought after everything was done. She called Katharina, who answered the phone with more of a statement about Lillian coming to Los Angeles than a question of whether she could or not.

The dialogue was short, and the flight was booked within an hour. It was direct, and it was business-class.

Lillian desperately hoped this was a sign that her time in the city would be worth all the emotional drama.

Andrew would be in town for a couple more days, so he would drive her to the airport the next morning. He worked all day, so they didn’t have much time to spend together before she left. Alone in the house all afternoon, she tidied up and packed. The cats knew she was leaving; they circled around her feet and tried to trip her the whole day.

Andrew came back from work late. They ate sandwiches. Drank tea. Andrew crashed in his room before he could manage a shower. The house was quiet again, save for soft, intermittent snoring.

Midnight rolled around. Lillian tried to sleep but it was impossible. The cats were irritated with her constant tossing and turning, and eventually gave up on trying to sleep on the bed with her. Angrily, they stalked out of the room down the hall.

Lillian sighed, at a loss for how to pass the time. She sat on the floor, picking through her bags to make sure she hadn’t forgotten any of her vitamins or prescriptions. They were all there. So were all her outfits—too many outfits for a trip that wouldn’t last longer than a week.

I’m so bored, she admitted, and the instant she thought it she realized she knew nothing about Katharina. Picking up her phone, she curled up in the bed and did a search to find out as much as she could about this woman that Cayden may or may not be hooking up with.

Katharina Solberg is an actress, film producer, and director. As Lillian read her official bio, her eyes grew to twice their usual size. Katharina was definitely in Cayden’s clientele, and had a resume impressive enough that her owning a house in Los Angeles only made sense.

Lillian wondered if she was going to get star-struck when meeting this woman for the first time. She hoped not. She’s just a human, too, she reminded herself. She’s no different than me. Only she’s probably met every celebrity in the industry at one time or another.

Trying to shift her mental image of Katharina from untouchably famous to personal, she clicked the links to her social media. The first thing she saw: 1.2 million followers.

Keep trying to tell yourself she’s the same as everyone else, Lillian. Sighing, she scrolled down. Photos of a gorgeous garden she assumed was Katharina’s personal one. Outfits branded from head to toe. State-of-the-art gym equipment, workout selfies, motivational quotes...

Then, a series of photos of Cayden. Some with her, some only him.

Lillian’s heart flew into her throat. Without thinking, she clicked on one. A photo of him leaning against the railing of a picturesque wooden bridge.

This handsome man! The best personal trainer. Always challenging me to do my best but never going easy on me. I have never looked or felt better. He has room for more clients, ladies!

She felt sick as she scrolled through the photos and read every caption. How many had Cayden been the photographer of? Katharina obviously was infatuated with Cayden, showering him with compliments for every photo he was in. According to her, he was a Greek god, pun intended. He was the best trainer she had ever hired. He had the best attitude. The best body. Deserved to train all the top celebs for their action movie roles. She was going to make sure he was the next big sought-after trainer in Hollywood.

Lillian closed the app, praying for some miracle that the time wouldn’t be too late for her to call Katharina and cancel the trip. It was after 1o’clock in the morning. Definitely too late. And her flight departed at 7:00. She wracked her brain for some way to get out of this, but in such a short time frame it seemed impossible.

I could just not go to the airport. I could blame it on being sick. It seemed too desperate, and Katharina had already spent money on the plane ticket. Lillian tried to convince herself that the woman wouldn’t even miss the money for a business-class flight, but to no avail. Her conscience got the best of her.

She felt her stomach begin to gurgle, the warning sign of a flare-up. Suddenly, not being able to fly due to sickness didn’t feel like such a great idea.

The conversation with Andrew earlier can’t be for nothing. If I don’t go, our argument is pointless. Andrew was already planning to get up an hour earlier than usual to drive her to the airport, anyway. She couldn’t do that to him. Nixing the plans was out of the question.

I guess I’ll just have to go and prove that I’m moving on. She knew she was far from it, but the phrase “fake it till you make it” echoed in her mind. That’s what you’ve got to do, Lillian, she told herself firmly. Pretend that you’re fine, especially if you’re around him. Maybe Katharina knows about your past, maybe she doesn’t. Either way, you can’t let yourself show it. Not on a business trip.

One of the cats drowsily wandered back in and leapt onto the bed, snuggling hard against her. Nestling down in her mass of pillows Lillian switched off her lamp and lay there, trying to give herself a pep talk. Eventually, just before the first rays of morning sunlight touched the stars, she fell asleep.