were about celebrating Ellery’s birthday. But the absolute biggest reason that she had to run was because she’d just thrown herself at a guy who obviously had the moral conscience of a priest.
He’d told her to get her shit together and then come see him. Ha. Screw him. Like she needed him to tell her that her life was shitty. She knew that.
So Ellery Witt did something wholly immature, totally selfish, and freaking spineless. She climbed into the Lexus her father had bought her and pecked out an email to Evan.
Dear Evan,
I’m not the person you think I am. I should have been more up front with you from the beginning. You’re a nice guy and don’t deserve to be jerked around. I am having some issues and can’t pull myself away tonight. Please understand that my life is crazy right now. Has nothing to do with you. You’ve been great.
Dee Dee O’Hara
Ellery stared at the way she’d signed the email and wondered if she should have put something different. Not having an answer, she hit the send button, put her car into drive, and drove away from everything that knotted so hard in her life that she would never get it untangled.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Hey, boy. Did you miss me?” Daphne asked, setting the braided leash on Tippy Lou’s bar and stooping to rub Jonas behind the ears. Her dog gave her a very calm lick and then sank onto his haunches and sighed. No doubt he longed to stay with the woman who fed him broth, rice, and pumpkin over the canned diet food he’d been prescribed by the vet. “Ready to go home?”
Tippy looked up from where she seemed to be balancing her checkbook. “Of course he’s not ready. He’s in love with me.”
“Everyone is in love with someone who spoils them the way you do that dog. Thanks for letting him stay here with you.”
Tippy made a chuffing noise and gave a nod. “Tea’s on. Have a cup, and tell me about what’s going on.”
“Well, I think the best description of what is going on is a shit show.”
Tippy smirked and readjusted her readers. “I surmised as much from the expression on your face. Your aura is putrid, honey.”
“Yeah, I would say that’s accurate.” Daphne managed a wry smile as she made her way to the kitchen, Jonas dogging her steps.
“Did you find Ellery?” Tippy asked.
“Sort of.” Daphne blew out a breath and sank onto the stool opposite Tippy. Jonas moved to a patch of sunlight streaming through Tippy’s sliding glass door. Outside the world was bright and shiny, a foil to the storms brewing inside Daphne. She needed to stop the coming rains, but she had no clue how to abate the changing winds or redirect the dark clouds on the horizon. Ellery wasn’t answering her texts, emails, or calls. “She went to Dallas. Rex called the credit card company and got them to check for activity. I think she treated herself to room service and nothing more. The last twenty-four hours have been about as awkward as I can ever remember. Eh, maybe telling my parents I was pregnant at sixteen was worse, but this was a close second. Throwing a party for someone who bails is a little uncomfortable. No one to blow out the candles.”
Tippy Lou gave a flash grin, took off her readers, and set them on the bar. “Ellery’s being an asshole.”
Daphne shrugged. “Maybe she’s got cause to be.”
“That’s what you think?” Tippy asked, rising and walking toward the stove, where a red teakettle happily chortled. Snagging two cups and a few tea bags, Tippy came back and poured the water. Dropping in a tea bag, she shoved it toward Daphne. A fragrant curl of steam unfurled, automatically making Daphne feel better. Somehow a cup of tea always made things look a little brighter. “How do you figure?”
“Well, for one thing, she caught me with Clay.”
“Whoop-de-do. I mean, you’re a person, Daphne. Not her virgin mother,” Tippy said, sinking back onto her stool and pushing her checkbook aside. “Big deal. Everyone has sex . . . or at least wish they could again.”
“Don’t act like you’re too old to have sex, Tippy. You’re in your sixties. Not dead.”
Tippy laughed. “I’m not too old. I’m too set in my ways. And weird. Don’t forget weird.”
Daphne smiled. “You’re wonderfully weird.”
“I’ve always thought so,” Tippy said, flipping her gray braid across her shoulder in dramatic fashion. “But we digress. We’re talking about your daughter’s unwillingness