Page 3 of The Best I Never Had

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She immediately stops, then sighs. “I just want it all to be perfect. He has this giant extended family, and I haven’t met them yet. What if they don’t like me?” Her voice lowers to a whisper. “What if I lose him?”

I know where the fear stems from. It was all those families over the years who told us they couldn’t afford to keep us, or handle the work of keeping us, or just straight up didn’t want to keep us.

But what she doesn’t realize—or never admits out loud—is that she was never the problem. Addy was smart, well-behaved, rational to the point of unemotional. I drove away every family stable enough to keep us long-term, and since the Florida foster system doesn’t separate siblings except in extreme cases, I dragged her right along with me.

I won’t cost her another family.

“How could anyone not love you?” I ask.

Her lips pinch again. “His mom doesn’t.”

“I can’t believe that.”

“She … I don’t know how to explain it. She just kind of ignores me. I can’t break through. This is my chance to change all that. We’ll have a week in North Carolina to prepare wedding stuff and you can help me win her over. You’ll be there? Right?”

My stomach churns over the idea of being away for a week. This isn’t like Addy’s cushy salaried job with paid time off, but she’s looking at me with so much desperation that I already know I’ll take extra shifts over the next few weeks to make it work.

“I’ll be with you the whole time. It’ll be perfect. I won’t let it be any other way.”

Tears fill her eyes. “Promise?”

“Yes. No one can stop the Pappas sisters, right?”

Addy kindly doesn’t correct me, even though we both know the invitation will say Adelaide Fischer, not Adelaide Pappas.

She hooks her pinky through mine and lets out a relieved breath.

“Pappas,” a loud voice echoes through the restaurant, making patrons jump. I jump, too, flying out of my seat. This time, the chair does tip over, smacking into the back of another patron’s chair and earning me a scowl over her shoulder.

My boss, Gordon, barrels over. “My office. Now.”

I glance around at my colleagues, who quickly avert their gazes. Addy grabs my hand but I pull away, giving her a shaky smile before following Gordon.

The door has barely closed when Gordon says, “You’re fired.”

I expected to be scolded for sitting down at one of my tables. Not fired.

“But … but I’ve worked here for over a decade.”

“We both know you’ve been trouble for over a decade, too.”

I refuse to let him see me react, even if his words cut. He’s the worst, but Cibare has been the closest thing to a home, the only constant in my life besides Addy and Vaughn.

I was difficult when I started here at sixteen, an angry kid just looking to save some money for when I aged out of the system. And, I guess, at seventeen, too. Fine, eighteen, nineteen, and twenty weren’t pretty either. I’ve always been quick to anger, and spending the last ten years of my childhood moving from home to home only heightened my fight reflex. I’d have been fired years ago if the owner—Stella—hadn’t taken a liking to me. But I’d fought like hell to get under control and became the perfect employee.

But in Gordon’s eyes, I’ll always be the sixteen-year-old girl who screamed at a set of parents that if they didn’t want to take care of their kid—who they let wander into the dangerous kitchen—they shouldn’t have had her in the first place.

I lay my hand over my stomach and force in a calming breath from my diaphragm—a coping mechanism from therapist number two set up by foster mom number five.

“What we both know is that I’ve been a great employee. I’ve given my entire adult life to this restaurant, and I think I deserve an explanation.”

“A great employee?” he scoffs, and I bite my tongue to hold back my response. “You think a great employee would sit at a table during their shift?”

I swallow my pride—at great personal cost. “Please, Gordon. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, but is that worth firing me over?”

Gordon’s lips twist in a deranged smile. He’s getting off on the power, wants to see me beg, and it sets my blood on fire.