“That was fast lie.”
Jake leaned against wall.
“I thought Claire would’ve liked you.”
Sophia went quiet.
Jake looked ashamed.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re allowed.”
“It feels wrong.”
“What?”
“Thinking about my wife while dating you.”
Sophia looked toward snow piled along lot.
“Jake.”
He waited.
“I’m not competing with a dead woman.”
He closed eyes.
“That sounds terrible.”
“I mean it.”
“She existed.”
“You loved her.”
“Avery exists because you loved her.”
“I don’t want you to amputate that part of your life to make me comfortable.”
Jake swallowed.
Sophia continued:
“I just need you to know whether you have room for another part.”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s honest.”
She nodded.
“But don’t decide for me that your grief is too ugly.”
“I can decide what I’m willing to stand beside.”
That sentence stayed.
Then came Grant.
Jake first saw him at Lauron Lodge.
He arrived in a silver Range Rover wearing a navy overcoat that probably cost more than Jake’s first toolbox.
Tall.
Handsome.
Forty.
Polished.
Sophia’s ex-fiancé.
Jake did not know until Sophia stepped onto porch and froze.
Grant smiled.
“Soph.”
Jake disliked nickname immediately.
Sophia’s face hardened.
“What are you doing here?”
“Your brother said you haven’t signed.”
Jake was repairing snowblower near garage.
He kept working.
Grant glanced toward him.
“Sorry.”
“Are we interrupting?”
Sophia said:
“Yes.”
Grant looked back at her.
“I flew from Denver.”
“That doesn’t make it less interruption.”
He held leather folder.
“Calvin’s offer expires Monday.”
Sophia crossed arms.
“I know.”
“The lodge is costing you eighteen thousand a month in winter maintenance.”
“I know.”
“You’re not running it.”
“I know.”
“You don’t live here.”
Jake’s hand slowed.
Sophia noticed.
Grant continued.
“You’re delaying because Evelyn wanted you emotionally attached.”
“Don’t talk about my grandmother.”
“I knew her.”
“She didn’t like you.”
Grant smiled.
“She liked no one who used spreadsheets.”
“She liked Jake.”
Both men looked.
Jake almost dropped wrench.
Sophia smiled slightly.
“She met him posthumously?”
Grant asked.
“Different point.”
Jake stood.
“I should go.”
Sophia immediately said:
“No.”
Grant looked between them.
Recognition.
“Ah.”
Jake hated that sound.
Sophia’s eyes narrowed.
Grant extended hand.
“Grant Pembroke.”
Jake shook.
“Jake Morrison.”