Sophie swiped at the bead of sweat trickling down her neck and regretted, not for the first time, skipping this month's transit pass. She'd opted to walk to work and save the one hundred and twenty-eight dollars. Or rather pay her cell phone and other bills. Etienne, the head chef at La Terra, often gave her a ride home, so the decision had seemed prudent.

She hadn't factored in global warming and the high humidity that hung over Washington, DC, the first two weeks of August. The weather made the forty-five minute hike to the restaurant on Commisionary St. feel more like swimming to work than walking. Especially this afternoon. The additional stress of having to be at work an hour early for the last minute all-hands-on-deck meeting the owners called yesterday had Sophie longing for the air-conditioned ride on a bus.

Hopefully, this meeting was about a change in the menu, something to entice the walk-ins off the busy street and fill the restaurant to capacity. While La Terra's regulars raved about the food, the classic dishes on offer didn't seem to draw potential customers like some of the fusion restaurants in the area.

"So the plan is to meet you on the train? Finn promised to give me a ride to the station." Sophie ignored the whine in Mary's voice as she pronounced her brother-in-law's name. After her apartment flooded, Mary accepted Emily's offer to stay at the Lakehouse until the repairs were complete. "I can't wait to get out of this one stop-light town and be with... civilized people. I miss fresh sushi and bars with men in suits."

Like Sophie, Mary loved living in the city. The hustle and bustle was in their blood and one of the things they'd bonded over. The other being their perpetual single status. Mary had what she called "high standards" which meant rich and influential, whereas Sophie serial dated for a different reason.

"New York is full of both." Sophie sidestepped a woman pushing a baby carriage, narrowly missing the wheels that were about to roll over her black ballet flats. The train ticket purchase had maxed out her credit card, and she'd worked double shifts almost every day since the July 4th weekend to get the three days off for her annual visit with the Harrington's.

"Please. I need to see someone in Tom Ford, stat." Mary's tone changed. "I suppose Sam and Ali will be at the party."

Sophie's feet stopped at the red light, but her stomach lurched. "Of course. He is Thomas's brother." The summer soiree started as a get together to mark Thomas's birthday, but the family rarely mentioned him lately. This year, however, his mother had insisted she'd make all of his favourite foods and hinted at home movies she'd uploaded to the cloud. The thought of seeing Thomas again, even if only in 2D, hearing his voice, his laugh, both frightened and thrilled her. He was frozen in time in the photos she had on her phone, in a silver frame by her bed, etched into her mind. "And she's his wife."

"Lucky break." Sophie swallowed her retort. Sam Harrington was one of the few men that met Mary's dating qualifications and her friend was still sore she'd missed out on the opportunity to snag him for herself. "Suppose she might divorce him soon too?"

"Mary. Be nice." Sophie shook her head. "Besides. Aren't you dating that Senator's Chief of Staff?"

"Hard to date when he's in Washington and I'm stuck out here in the sticks."

Her phone chirped, and Sophie glanced at the text.

Etienne: Where are you? They want to start.

"Crap. I have to go. I'm late for work." Sophie hung up and broke into a jog, her messenger bag whacking into her hip with every stride.

"At last." Etienne held open the side door, lines of concern etched across his shiny forehead. "Everyone's by the bar."

Sophie's dry mouth ached for water, but she bypassed the fridge and cracked open the door to the dining area. A wall of backs faced her. Everyone's attention was on the man in the pinstriped suit leaning against the brass rail that outlined the wooden bar.

"... opened our doors in 1983." The restaurant owner shifted on his feet. "My parents loved this place, and it was my intention to honour their legacy. Put La Terra on the map here in Washington."

Etienne slipped in beside her, his bean-stalk like arms crossed over his chest. "Then they should let us update the menu." On slow mid-week nights, when the dining room lulled after the initial dinner rush, Etienne and Sophie had experimented with twists on the main dishes listed on La Terra's menu. They thought they'd hit gold when they transformed the traditional chicken parmesan into a stuffed pasta and added a hot honey and pistachios to the calbression pizza. The dishes were well within the restaurant's comfort zone, but edgy enough to potentially draw in new customers.

The owner who stood before them addressing the staff had yet to find time to pop by the restaurant and try their creations, despite several attempts to lure him in. Etienne and she had hoped to snag him after the meeting today.

As Sophie watched him fidget with the ring on his finger, the perspiration coating her arms turned to ice. While she'd never claim to be good at reading people, she did have a sense of when a customer was about to bolt, not paying their bill. The telltale sign was in the way they refused to meet your eyes. Like the manager couldn't with the crowd before him.

"We've had an offer to buy the building." He squared his shoulder. "And we're taking it."

A murmur rolled through the wait staff, cooks, and bartenders.

Etienne's voice boomed above the racket. "Is the restaurant moving to another location?"

"No." The manager straightened his tie. "We're closing down at the end of the month."

Beside her, Etienne stiffened, and Sophie swore internally. She'd spent three years climbing the latter in this restaurant to get to sous chef. Gave up on a chance to work with the chef she mentored with last summer to keep her higher station at La Terra. Her chest caved in at the thought of starting over again, probably at another entry level position. The end of the summer, the end of the tourist season, was the worst time to search for a restaurant that was hiring.

Maybe her parents were right. She'd had her shot. She's run away from the family restaurant with a dream and the determination to make it come true. For a decade, she toiled away in other people's restaurants, only to have the same story repeat. One step forward, two back. La Terra was the longest run, but now that was coming to an end.

Back in New York, her parent's restaurant waited for her. She could chop vegetables there as easily as here. But in New York there was free room and board. Sure, it was over the restaurant and her parents would be her roommates. The tiny voice in her head screamed its denial. "What about our dream?" it whispered.

"How will I pay the bills?" she shot back, attempting to silence the voice with practicality. The constant scraping by was exhausting, and she really didn't know if she had it in her to start over again. She twisted the diamond engagement ring on her right hand. The ring she could sell to use the money as a down payment on her own space. But she'd never betray Thomas. He'd given her the ring as a symbol of his love for her. The only thing she'd trade the ring for was another moment in his arms.

No. She had to be practical. Without her job, there was no way she could afford her studio apartment. After the weekend with the Harrington's, she'd speak to her parents, come up with a plan. Sophie didn't take risks, leave anything to chance. Not anymore.

***

As if to add salt to her wound, the crowd that night at La Terra was thinner than stretched mozzarella. By 9 p.m. there was only one table occupied and the couple were nursing their coffee like the brew was their first-born child.

Etienne mopped his forehead with the handkerchief he always kept in his back pocket. "You can take off if you want."

The lid of the Tupperware container holding the onions she'd been chopping to occupy her time snapped shut. "Sure you don't need me?"

He spun around in place, the harsh kitchen light gleaming off his bald head. "I think we've done all we can. Best get home and start working on your resume."

"Right." Sophie leaned on the gleaming steel prep counter. "What do you think the chances are anyone's hiring a sous chef?"

"About the same as the Ritz, needing a head chef." Etienne hip checked her. A gentle tap. "We'll be fine. Something will turn up." The man read horoscopes and believed in fate. His sunny attitude got the crew through the nightly grind, but you couldn't cash in a smile to pay rent.

She leaned in to his embrace. "I'll miss working with you."

"Me too, kiddo. But we won't be parted for long." He squeezed her elbow. "Not if I have anything to say about it. Where I go, you have to follow."

"Lead the way." Sophie undid the strings of her apron, hung it on her hook, and grabbed her bag from her locker. No need to rush on the walk home. Nothing but an empty apartment and bills awaited her there. Music spilled from the open windows of her favourite bar as she walked by. Her instinct was to dip inside, see if any fish were biting. But since her night with Max, none of the men she encountered appealed to her in the same way. Imaginary Max was a better companion.

She shook her shoulders in an attempt to brush off the memory of his thumb stroking her skin as he held her that night. Their time together was supposed to scratch an itch, not create an obsession. At work, even in the down periods, she could find things to occupy her mind, distract herself. But in the in-between gaps, on long walks home, in her apartment as sleep evaded her, any time she was alone, Max invaded her thoughts, consuming her mind and body in a way that both infuriated and excited her.

Good thing he was on a boat half a continent away. If he was a few streets over in the Washington Naval Yard, she might consider a covert operation to sneak in, find the man, and see if round two offered more fireworks.

A buzzing in her bag drew her thoughts away from Max. She fished out her cell phone to read the text.

Emily: Need your help. Can you talk?

Sophie didn't bother texting back, hitting the call button instead. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm pregnant."

"Wow. Emily." Excitement at her friend's news coursed through Sophie's veins, tinged with a streak of something else. For years, Emily, Mary and Sophie had made a trio of single women who stuck together. First Emily had married before Sophie, now she was moving into the having a family stage. All things Sophie was denied.

She swallowed her regret and focused on the good news. "That's wonderful."

"It would be... I mean, yes, it is." Emily's voice lacked its usual chipperness. "The thing is, I'm having complications. The same issue as my mother. I can't keep any food down."

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"We were in town today, seeing a specialist. I would have dropped by, but I'm so tired these days."

"Emily," Sophie interjected, "please don't worry about that. How can I help? What do you need?"

"Finn suggested asking you. He thought, being a chef and all, you could recommend some dishes I might be able to keep down. Or know someone who might have some advice."

"Of course. I have a few thoughts. I'll email them to you when I get home." Sophie picked up her pace. "And I'll talk to my mom. Her uncle's second wife had terrible morning sickness and I remember her making a soup that helped. Maybe it had carp in it? Mom would know."

"That would be great." Emily lowered her voice. "I need to eat something. Finn is freaking out over here. Treating me like I'm made of porcelain. I love that he cares, but he's going to burst an artery if he doesn't chill out soon."

"Don't worry." Stress was the last thing Emily needed now. "I'll work my magic. How about I stop by on my way home from New York? Bring some supplies, make up some recipes you can freeze."

"That would be amazing." Emily's voice brightened up. "I'll have the guest room ready for you."

Hey al DL here. For those of you who read the prequel to this story, White Knight, you may find that Sophie has changed. Hopefully not too much. In that story, she was impulsive, following a boy to university. Here, later in life, she's more cautious. 

But she's the same too. Outgoing, friendly, willing to go after what she wants. Mostly. 

This is my last update in 2022. I wish you all health and happiness in 2023!

If you are reading this in 2023 or later. Let me know how the year is going.

https://youtu.be/W_6Vs8pADrQ