Although she'd been friends with Emily and Mary for over a decade, Sophie still felt one step out of place in the living room stuffed with Montgomery's and Wainwright's. On the sofa beside her, Mary leaned against her husband Simon, who sat squished into the other corner, acting like a man-sized pillow for his wife.

She nudged Sophie's shoulder. "The military has arrived. Are you disappointed he isn't in uniform?"

Sophie glared at her friend. For two weeks, Mary found every opportunity to bring up Max in casual conversation. Or not so casual. Like right now. They'd been discussing Etienne's new job, and she steered the conversation back to that safe topic. "As I was saying, Etienne says, if any roles become available, I'm his first phone call."

"To be his assistant." Mary pursed her lips. "Don't you want your own kitchen? A menu you create instead of following other's orders?"

"Sure. That's the dream." Sophie caught Simon's eye. She still found the concept of Mary and Simon as a couple hard to grasp. She hardly knew the man, even though Mary had apparently kept in touch with him for almost ten years. According to Mary, he'd stayed in the tiny resort town of Bridgetown to be close to her and, after one summer together, their relationship rekindled. Or more like flew into a raging fire resulting in their elopement a month ago.

Simon and Mary seemed like oil and water. He was small town; she was big city. He was quiet, in understated blue jeans and a plain white shirt, where Mary was in head-to-toe petal pink. Even her cheeks glowed today. Mary had always insisted she'd end up in the white house and now she lived in a log cabin on the other side of the lake in the middle of nowhere. Yet, somehow, his steady, calm demeanor evened out Mary's flamboyant outbursts. Then there was the way he looked at Mary, like the world revolved around her. To be fair, Mary had never seemed happier. Also, more relaxed. Maybe she had found herself out here in the wilderness.

Something about Simon made Mary content. There was no other word for it. Maybe it was his food. He owned a few local businesses, including The Waterfront Cafe, a bakery and a new venture, Wainwright Winery. Sophie met his eye now. "Your husband gets it. The restaurant business is fickle."

Mary shifted in her seat and Simon moved with her in unison, their joined hands coming to land on her stomach. "Can I ask her?" Behind her, Simon's lips formed a thin line. Mary turned to her husband and traced his cheek with her nose. "Please."

The man's features softened, and Sophie had to turn away at the devotion rolling off of him in waves. A lifetime ago, Thomas had looked at her that way. She pulled on the cuff of her lace dress. No overheating in the kitchen today in this outfit. If the built-in bra also happened to give the illusion of her chest size increasing to a full A cup, that was only a coincidence.

Simon cleared his throat. "I suppose Mary told you I've taken over the winery in Closter. My long-term goal is to turn the business into more than a winery. More of a destination. I'm converting one of the barns to a conference center and down the road might build some cottages for overnight guests. Part of those plans includes transforming the existing tearoom into a permanent restaurant." Sophie's eyes snapped back to him. "I want to focus on local products but elevate the cuisine, maybe try for a Michelin star."

She sucked in a breath. "That's a lot of work. It could take years to get to that level."

"I have some potential investors from Europe interested in helping me get to the next level. They're visiting in January." His jaw hardened, and Mary squeezed his hand. "I need a chef who can put together a sample menu and wow these people with a meal to demonstrate the value of investing."

The rare opportunity dangled in front of Sophie like a bobble on a Christmas tree. To be there at the beginning stages of a new endeavour like this could take her career to a new level. "Do you want me to ask Etienne to help?"

Mary sat forward and grasped Sophie's hands in hers. "No Sophie. We want you to be the chef. Take the lead. Run the kitchen and create a menu to knock the socks off these people."

"Me?" Every nerve in her body vibrated, and she clung to Mary to keep from floating away. "Are you sure?"

"Of course. I wouldn't trust anyone else." Her friend beamed at her.

Sophie met Simon's gaze and a little of the fizz in her chest flattened when his eyes darted away. Mary may have confidence in her, but obviously Simon wasn't convinced. She had to give him the out, a way to not disappoint his wife. "It is an amazing opportunity. But, Simon, maybe you want a more experienced chef. Etienne has worked at some of the best restaurants in Washington and New York. He's a master at classic cuisine."

His shoulders dropped, and he locked eyes with her. "I considered finding someone—"

"Boring," Mary interjected.

A fraction of a smile crept onto Simon's face. "Yes. Old-fashioned. The winery down the road is our direct competition and they offer fine French dining. My vision is for something fresh. Different. Unique."

Simon was speaking her language. She longed to bring a fusion of flavours to a menu. Infuse the traditions she'd grown up around with new techniques.

Mary kissed her husband on the cheek. "He loved your kabobs at the Emily's July 4th barbeque."

He nodded. "I'm still thinking about the Trivette twist you served on Sunday for brunch." The twist on Eggs Benedict had been inspired by necessity, switching out the lack of English muffin for a cornbread base and topping them off with shrimp.

"She'll have those investors eating out of the palm of her hands." Mary's fingers ran along the ridge of his thumb.

Sophie studied the patter on the pillow between them. "I like your vote of confidence."

"It's fact. You have talent, and this is your chance to prove it. And make my husband's new business the talk of the town. The county." Mary folded her arms over her chest. "I won't take no for an answer."

"What about Emily?"

Mary tilted her head. "We already discussed it. You can help set up the restaurant during the day and cook meals there to bring home. We'll be your guinea pigs as you finalize the menu. To help, Simon will have the Waterfront bring in food. We'll all make sure she's covered."

The buzz was back in Sophie's chest, potential recipes crawling across her brain. Essential ingredients she'd need like Bokken chamggae, Aecjeot, Ssamjang. She'd need to make a list. Make a trip to the market in Washington.

Her own kitchen.

No following other's orders.

She'd be in control.

Mary rubbed her hands together. "I can't wait to try something beyond roast beef and chicken wings. No offence baby." She patted her husband's knee.

Simon offered a weak smile. "None taken." Sophie doubted that and wanted to defend his local restaurant, but he cut her off. "So, what do you say? Are you up for the challenge?"

"Of course she is," Mary chirped.

"Baby, she hasn't said yes yet."

Both Simon and Mary faced Sophie, and the yes bubbled out of her. "I'd love to."

Mary squealed and hugged her. "This means you'll have to stay here with me."

"Wait." Sophie stared at her friend. "Is this all a ploy to keep me in Bridgetown?"

Mary giggled. "I can't deny that played a part. Last week you were talking about going back to New York and then I'd never see you again."

"Not true. You're in New York all the time." Sophie tapped Mary's knee.

"Not anymore. I'll be busy."

"Will you be helping with the winery, too?"

"A little. But I have a much more important project." Mary's tone dropped to a whisper. "I'm pregnant."

"What?" A flush of heat rolled over Sophie. "When? I mean congratulations."

"Thank you." Mary beamed at Simon. "I just passed the three-month mark, and we figure it's safe to tell people. No morning sickness for me. It's been—"

"Amazing," Simon finished for her.

"I'm so happy for you both. This is the best news." She hugged her friend again and pulled Simon to them to create a Mary sandwich.

They broke apart, and Mary took Sophie's hand. "So, you see, we need to keep Aunt Sophie around. Our child needs you."

"Mary, you have two sisters. You don't need me."

Thin fingers clutched at hers. "But I do. You know Emily and Beth have their own thing. No one gets me like you."

"Hey." Simon faked being hurt.

"Baby, no one loves me like you do." Mary snuggled into her husband. "But sometimes a girl needs her girlfriend. Sophie is like a sister to me."

"Fine. We can share you." Simon kissed her forehead. "As long as you come home to me every night."

Mary turned her face to him. "Always."

"Okay." Sophie threw her hands in the air. "I think it's time to check on the turkey." And give these two love birds time together. She offered them another round of congratulations and escaped.

Face flushed with the warmth of the living room, she gulped in the fresh air of the hallway and leaned against the cool wall, closing her eyes. A swirl of emotions fought for dominance in her chest. Joy at her friend's good news. Excitement at the future endeavour with Simon. Jealousy that Emily and Mary, her companions in grief and loneliness for so many years had found happiness and were moving into a new phase in their lives. Without her. Anguish because she'd never have the same chance. Couldn't. Not without betraying the man she loved.

And she'd never betray him.

Her fingers dug into her sides, longing to touch, feel Thomas. She missed the sound of his laughter, the way his gaze found hers within a crowded room like a magnet finding magnetic north, the silent conversations they'd have across the table at family dinners during the holidays. The rush of their moments together in bed, the highs she never wanted to come down from.

If things had been different, where would they be today? They'd discussed children, a debate over first born possibilities. Thomas suggested a boy first so he could protect his sister like Thomas had his younger brother. She imagined a girl similar to the household she'd grown up in. Either way, he'd promised to adore their children and only hoped they'd be healthy. Oh, how she loved him for that.

She loved him for so many reasons.

Most of the time, the agony of the life she'd lost, that she could've had, that would never be, sat like a dull ache tucked away in a locked corner of her heart. Plans and checklist and responsibilities kept the pain under control. But every now and again on days like Thanksgiving the lock would crack, claw at her heart and suffering rose to the surface.

With a pinch on her hip, she forced the old haunting memories to recede. The past couldn't be changed and her only option was to do the best with what she had. Which as of a few minutes ago meant the dream career she'd been working toward. With renewed dedication, she pushed herself off the wall and walked into the kitchen.

And almost slammed into Max.