Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose

            If anyone in this world needed therapy, it was Mercy Callahan. That the woman had made it through her life with her heart and soul intact was testament to her personal strength.

            Unfortunately, Liza knew about that from personal experience, too. She wondered if Mercy’s therapist was taking new clients. Giving herself a little shake, she held the cake plate out to Irina. “For the family.”

            Irina peeked under the aluminum foil and grinned wolfishly. “Chocolate. Did you make it?”

            “No, ma’am. One of the nurses at the veterans’ home did, for my last day.”

            Irina motioned Liza to follow her into the kitchen. “Your last day, it was good, yes?”

            “It was very good,” Liza said, dropping into a kitchen chair while Irina put the cake plate on top of the refrigerator, where Abigail wouldn’t see it. Her job as a nursing assistant in the veterans’ home had ended the evening before. “The nurses signed a card and we had goodbye cake, which is yummy, by the way. Lucky for us, most of the nurses were on diets and only ate tiny pieces, so there’s a lot left. It’s not as good as yours, of course,” she added hastily, because nobody’s cake was better than Irina’s, “but I figure you can make use of it.”

            Irina busied herself making tea. “Oh, I’m sure we can find someone to eat it.” With eight children and nine grandchildren, plus Abigail and all the others Irina and her husband Karl had enveloped into their brood, there was never a shortage of mouths to feed. “That person might even be me. Chocolate cake is my stress food. Did your manager give you a good reference?”

            “He did,” Liza confirmed. “He said he wished he could keep me on, but the woman who I was filling in for returned from maternity leave. At least the reference he wrote is glowing.”

            “As it should be,” Irina declared, sliding a cup in front of Liza before settling into the chair beside her with her own cup. “You being a veteran and all. And a medic with a smart brain, quick hands, and a good heart. He was lucky to have you.”

            Liza’s eyes burned and she widened her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I think I needed to hear that today.”

            Irina’s hand covered hers, warm and comforting. “What is it, Liza? I’ve sensed your unhappiness lately and I want to help if I can. You can tell me anything, you know.”

            Liza studied the older woman’s face for a long moment before smiling ruefully. “Probably hormones,” she deflected, unwilling to tell Irina what was really bothering her, because there wasn’t anything anyone could do to help with that, not even the indefatigable Irina Sokolov.

            The heart wants who the heart wants, Liza’s mother used to say. Which was true, sadly. “Sadly” because what her heart wanted wasn’t attainable.

            It’s my own fault. She hadn’t agreed to the date with Mike last night to make Tom jealous, although now she had to admit that she’d hoped deep down that he would be. At the same time, she’d really hoped she’d find a spark with Mike. Even a tiny one. Anything to help her forget about her obsession with the man she’d loved for seven long years.

            But the only spark she’d felt the night before was when Tom had appeared on the doorstep of the duplex they shared. Only when Tom had smiled at Mike and talked about the current baseball season and the basketball season that had just ended. He’d even signed an autograph for Mike, once her date realized who Tom was. Or who he’d been, anyway.

            An NBA star. Now an FBI agent. There was little Tom Hunter couldn’t do.

            Except love me.

            Irina was staring at her, evidently not having bought her hormone excuse. Probably because Liza had used it a couple weeks before. “Liza.”

            Liza searched her mind for something she could share. “You make me miss my mom.” Which was the unvarnished truth. Irina and Liza’s mother would have been fast friends.

            “You lost her,” Irina murmured, allowing the redirected conversation. “How old were you?”

            “Sixteen. She had cancer and . . .” Liza sighed. “We didn’t have insurance, so she waited to see a doctor. And then it was too late.”

            “Is that why you’re going to nursing school?”