had done to me. Then the humiliation would ensue as the town gossips spread the news. I was about to be in the middle of the coffee shop talk . . . only I owned the shop, so I couldn’t escape it.
Ugh! Why couldn’t Tom have kept it in his pants until stupid February first? Cheating was the one thing I would never, ever tolerate. I had put up with a lot of shit from Tom over the last few years for the sake of keeping my family together, but he had crossed the line this morning. My heart ached for my poor boys—nothing like a small-town cheating scandal and divorce to make the last two years of high school memorable. And we were barely into the new year! The holiday season would always have the stink of betrayal on it. Damn it.
I could have called my mother or any one of my seven siblings to take care of my boys so I could hide out for a while and they’d do it in a heartbeat. Alas, I was not one to run from my problems. So here I was, sitting in my parking spot near the dumpsters behind the adorable strip-mall where my shop sat, staring at the back door. I’d driven up to this place, parked right here, and gone to work almost every day for over a decade. I looked over the top of my “Reserved for Violet” sign and vowed (a.k.a. lied to myself) that today would be no different than any other. So what if people found out my husband was not only an asshole, but a cheater too? Would that make my coffee less awesome? No freaking way.
This was my place. My coffee fueled haven of delicious smells, yummy treats, and happy customers. It was warm, cozy, and always welcoming. I named it Violet’s because everything inside expressed what was inside of me. I poured my energy—I poured myself—into my business to create something I could be proud of, no matter what stupid Tom had said about it over the years.
I shut my eyes against the sudden deluge of memories. Tom had never wanted me to open my own business. Once he’d started making money in real estate, he wanted me to stay home with the boys and be a perfect little wifey. He needed a woman who would sit around and wait for him, but that woman was not me and this coffee shop was the only thing I had ever refused to compromise with him on. I mean, we had a housekeeper, a gardener, and a pool service. Once the boys started school, what would I have done all day?
At least I would have family back-up today. My little sister Holly would be working for me while she was home. She was a travel journalist and blogger but was taking an extended break for reasons she hadn’t informed me, or anyone else in our family, about. I wasn’t pushing her to spill her secrets. Unlike with my other two sisters, pushing would drive this one away. She was a carbon copy of our mother. Tall, blue-eyed, and blonde, though Mom’s hair was mostly silver now. They were both blessed with effortless elegance and kind hearts, and I was overjoyed that Holly was finally home. My mission was to give her a reason to stay, not badger into telling me why she was here. “Violet, is that you?” she called out after I slammed the shop’s back door closed behind me and locked it.
Despite my determination to face everything head on, I again grew tempted to turn around, get back into my car, and check into a hotel or perhaps retire to a fishing boat in Alaska. I did not want to deal with the cheating bombshell today—or ever. Why couldn’t I just end my marriage and move on without having to talk about it?
“Yeah, it’s me . . .”
She popped her head through the swinging doors and waved me over.
“Are you okay? Jake was here earlier looking for you. He was all smoldery and intense and—uh, he was worried about you. Is something going on?” she whisper-hissed. Jake had been an object of fascination to my younger sisters ever since I’d first brought him and Tom home for a visit during spring break my freshman year of college. It was no secret to anybody that Jake had put himself through college and law school by modeling on the side. In fact, he