Few Hearts Survive Read online

  Few Hearts Survive

  A Pink Bean Series Novella

  Harper Bliss

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  About the Author

  Also by Harper Bliss

  No Strings Attached (Pink Bean Series - Book 1)

  Beneath the Surface (Pink Bean Series - Book 2)

  Everything Between Us (Pink Bean Series - Book 3)

  This Foreign Affair (Pink Bean Series - Book 4)

  Water Under Bridges (Pink Bean Series - Book 5)

  Chapter One

  Amber shook Martha’s hand and thought, to her own great dismay, no way is this woman meant for Micky. Not that, because of a simple handshake, a quick glance into each other’s eyes and the awkwardness that always comes with making a new acquaintance, she’d already concluded that she should be the one being set up with Martha, but something—call it a yogi’s intuition—told her that Micky and Martha would never be together. Besides, the mere fact that this entire dinner party was set up so Micky and Martha could get to know each other better was enough reason for Amber to stop that thought in its tracks there and then.

  She would occupy herself with the food, giving Micky a hand where she could, helping her best friend navigate her first all-female, all-lesbian dinner party in her new house in Darlinghurst. That was the role Amber had given herself and the one she would stick to, no matter how many gorgeous women shook her hand and looked at her with eyes that reminded her of a passion she’d much rather forget about anyway.

  “Amber, will you please sit down,” Micky said. She looked good in that dress. Amber hadn’t seen it on her in a long time. “I have two hands of my own that are very capable of pouring wine into glasses.” Micky shot her a smile. “I might even pour you some.”

  Reluctantly, Amber did as she was told and held out the glass Micky had shoved into her hand. She’d have a little bit of wine, just for show. It was one of those evenings when she didn’t feel much like standing on the barricades preaching against the group’s overindulgence in alcohol consumption. Some nights, it was just easier to go with the flow.

  From the corner of her eye, Amber snuck a glance at Martha again, who was already sipping from her wine. Maybe she was nervous and in need of some liquid courage. What had Sheryl told her? We’re all going to dinner at Micky’s. Things may happen. Knowing Sheryl and her brash ways, it must have been something like that.

  Amber quickly averted her gaze and tried to tune into the conversation. Now that Micky was done pouring wine and had sat down with them, it was kind of hard not to feel like the fifth wheel. Kristin and Sheryl were here together and, if things went according to plan, perhaps Micky and Martha would end up together. Amber still couldn’t see it.

  Perhaps because she had known Micky since they were six years old and she knew what the tiniest expression of her face and the smallest upward inflection in her voice meant. And she had seen the difference between Micky before Robin and after. Even though she was the one who had pushed Micky to give Martha a chance and to not go after someone who was not interested in a relationship anyway. As she sat there drinking wine and trying not to feel like that fifth wheel, now that Amber had actually met Martha, she simply couldn’t see it. Or maybe it was just her subconscious reminding her of the possibility of Micky and Robin again because she felt guilty about that fleeting thought she’d had when meeting Martha.

  “What do you do, Amber?” Martha asked.

  “Can’t you tell just by looking at her?” Micky jumped in. Amber couldn’t figure out whether she was trying to impress Martha or whether her nerves were making her a tad obnoxious.

  Martha raked her gaze over Amber’s face, then lowered it and scrutinized her upper body. “I’m a Physics professor. I’m not very good at guessing people’s profession by how they look.” She shot Amber a smile. “It’s not really in my field of expertise.”

  “I’m a yoga instructor,” Amber said. “Do you practice?”

  “What with it being all the rage these days, I’ve tried it several times, but I could never get the hang of it. I’m sure it’s me, but I don’t have the right mindset to practice yoga,” Martha said.

  “Then I can only assume you haven’t come across the right instructor for you yet,” Amber said. “I invite you to come to one of my classes and I will happily change your mind.”

  Martha smiled at her, then cocked her head. “Such utter confidence. I like it.”

  Amber smiled back briefly, then looked away from Martha, glanced at Micky, and felt so guilty for that short interaction between her and Martha that her stomach tied itself in knots.

  “Can you give me a quick hand in the kitchen, please?” Micky asked.

  “Sure.” Amber jumped up promptly.

  Micky ushered her into the cramped utility room—probably because the open kitchen didn’t provide enough privacy. “What do you think of Martha?” Micky asked.

  “She’s really nice. So interesting, well-spoken, and frankly, gorgeous. I say go for it!” Amber’s voice shot up.

  “I thought you would say that.”

  Amber couldn’t look her friend in the eye. “What do you mean?”

  “Instead of giving her the yoga speech, you just invited her to one of your classes.” Micky’s voice sounded as if she was on to Amber. Of course she was.

  “So?” Amber tried not to sound too defensive.

  “In all the years since you’ve discovered yoga, I’ve never known you to not give the speech.”

  “What are you insinuating?” Amber asked.

  Micky took a breath. “You like her.”

  “No, I don’t.” Amber was incapable of lying to anyone, but most of all to Micky.

  “You were just summing up all her good qualities.”

  “For you, just to tip you over the edge. She likes you, any fool can see that.”

  A knock on the door startled them. “Everything okay in here?” Kristin asked. “You probably didn’t hear, Micky, but your doorbell just rang. Has the stripper arrived early?” she joked.

  “What?” Panic rose in Micky’s voice. Amber understood. Her first thought was the children as well.

  “Do you want me to get it?” Kristin asked.

  “I’ll get it.” Amber quickly scooted out of the utility room. It only took her a few steps to reach the hallway, where she saw Robin standing in the doorway. Amber almost exhaled a sigh of relief. Micky might be more exhilarated than her to see Robin turning up at her door, but Amber was pretty glad to see her as well. If only to assuage her guilt after that impromptu interrogation by Micky earlier.

  “I’ll get Micky,” she said to Robin and plastered a wide smile on her face.

  Chapter Two

  Christ. What was this? What kind of dinner party had Martha been invited to? Sure, Sheryl had been upfront with her about Micky’s no-strings-attached dalliance with Robin, but that was another thing entirely compared to Robin turning up out of the blue, at the very dinner party that was supposed to get her a foot in the door with Micky.

  Moreover, Martha liked Micky. She’d liked her when they’d first met and the prospect of this dinner had excited her from the second she’d received the invitation. Deflated, she reached for her glass of wine, then caught Amber sneaking a glance at her—and not for the first time tonight. It was only adding to the peculiar vibe of the evenin
g.

  “Sorry for the interruption.” Micky walked back into the living room and headed straight to the kitchen. All four of them watched her as she rummaged around, not knowing how to behave or where to look. Whatever Robin had said to her in the hallway had clearly rattled Micky.

  “Coffee, anyone?” Micky asked.

  “Why don’t you come and sit with us for a bit and have something stronger,” Sheryl said. “You look like you need it.”

  Martha could surely use something stronger as well.

  “I know where she keeps the good stuff.” Amber got up and headed for the drinks cabinet.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Sheryl asked Micky. “Or am I being too nosy?”

  Micky sat down. She had arranged the table so she was sitting across from Martha. Martha looked at her but Micky couldn’t meet her gaze. She was starting to feel sorry for her now. Martha guessed it was a pretty awkward position to be in.

  She said the only thing she could say while keeping everyone’s dignity intact. “Don’t worry about me, Micky. Sheryl told me about Robin. She wouldn’t have been a very good friend if she hadn’t.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought it was over,” Micky said.

  Martha swore she could detect a glimmer of glee in Micky’s voice.

  “This is good news,” Kristin said.

  “It is. It’s just a bit unexpected, and well, the timing is a bit off, I guess,” Micky said.

  Martha chose to interpret Micky’s grin as apologetic, although it actually looked like the grin of someone stupidly in love.

  “I’ll go see her tomorrow,” Micky said.

  Amber poured them all generous measures of brandy.

  “I guess we’ll just be friends then.” Martha held up her glass, even though she didn’t have much to toast to.

  Micky was finally able to hold Martha’s gaze for longer than a split second. “I would really like that.”

  “Hear, hear.” Sheryl held out her glass as well and Amber and Kristin soon followed.

  Martha leaned back in her chair and sipped from the brandy. It stung in the back of her throat and seemed to have an instantly calming effect. At least she was here, surrounded by these women. At least there had been a prospect. It beat spending a Saturday night home alone wishing for one. Martha took another sip and, when she looked up, caught the last of Amber’s glance aimed at her again just before she averted it.

  Would it be terribly unsavory to flirt a little with Micky’s best friend? Not more so than Micky’s ex-lover showing up out of the blue and thwarting Martha’s chances in one fell swoop.

  “I guess I’ll have to come to one of your yoga classes then.” She tilted her head and held Amber’s gaze. “Give it another go.”

  Amber didn’t speak for long seconds. “If you like,” she said drily, her voice almost devoid of emotion. As if Martha had just said the most outrageous thing and they hadn’t just talked about yoga earlier. As if Martha shouldn’t even be there. If she was so opposed to the idea, why had she asked and, more importantly, what was with all the covert glances in Martha’s direction throughout the evening? The more this dinner party progressed, the less Martha could make sense of it.

  “Amber doesn’t mean it that way,” Micky said, catching the vibe and quite possibly feeling guilty for having to give Martha the brush-off. “She doesn’t do well with brandy.”

  Martha witnessed how a look passed between Micky and Amber. As if Micky was spurring her friend on to make an effort. But Martha didn’t want to be the person over which an effort had to be made, let alone an effort that had to be prompted.

  She cast Amber one last glance and, this time, perhaps for the first time that evening, Amber kept looking back at her. Her green eyes locked themselves on Martha’s and Martha wasn’t quite sure what she saw in them, but it sure as hell wasn’t any form of dismissal. It was quite the opposite. Oh. That she could work with. Because those green eyes were mesmerizing when they stared into hers like that and, after all the events of the night, Martha was quite keen to lose herself in them for a while longer.

  “You can get a couple of free trial lessons at our studio,” Amber said, her eyes still on Martha. Her tone might not have been much different than before, but looking into her eyes while she said the words made all the difference to Martha. “My schedule is online if you’d like to take one of my classes. I’m going on a month-long retreat to India soon, so you may have to wait until I’m back.”

  “Amber wants to start her own studio,” Sheryl said. She must have been completely unaware of the sudden chemistry that had flared between Martha and Amber, because it killed the moment, forcing Amber to look away. Martha had been friends with Sheryl long enough to know that the later it got, the less aware Sheryl became of things going on around her.

  “It’s just a dream at this point,” Amber said. “But it would be nice. Yoga is the new coffee, basically.” She smiled at Kristin.

  “There’s money to be made, for sure,” Kristin said. “And absolutely nothing beats being your own boss.” She glanced at Sheryl. “Well, except maybe a cushy professorship at Sydney University.”

  “There’s nothing cushy about that at all, I can assure you,” Sheryl said. “At least not in my department. Maybe it’s different in the hard sciences.” Sheryl’s words were slurring a little, but Martha agreed with every word she said.

  “I was just joking, babe.” Kristin, always a good sport, put a hand on Sheryl’s shoulder. “I keep telling her we should open a second Pink Bean branch, then Sheryl could leave her job and put the hardships that come with being in academia behind her.”

  “What?” That was the first thing Martha had heard about that.

  “She’s just yanking my chain. I will never leave academia,” Sheryl said. “I will be writing research grant proposals and devising new theories on gender until my dying breath. It’s my life. I love coffee just as much as the next person, but it’s not what I live for.” She gave a crooked smile.

  “I do get sick of physics from time to time. Or no, actually, it’s not the physics that bother me, come to think of it. The laws of nature are an endlessly fascinating topic. It’s all the bullshit that comes with it. All the meetings and the fact that there’s never enough money to go around to fund the exact research projects we want to do. And I like coffee as well. I’m particularly fond of flat whites, so if you need a partner, Kristin, I’m game.” Gosh. Martha figured the brandy was quickly catching up with her. “On that note,” she added. “I should probably be going home.”

  Chapter Three

  After three weeks in Kerala, when she only had one week left at the yoga and meditation retreat, Amber found herself in what passed for the center’s head office, examining ways to extend her stay.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” A whisper came from behind her.

  Amber didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Linda, the woman who had arrived a week after her and whom she had instantly befriended.

  “I just don’t feel ready to go back,” Amber said, which wasn’t entirely true, but expressed her sentiments accurately enough.

  “Then stay longer,” Linda said.

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Because of your job?” Linda cocked her head. “They can only benefit from you becoming better at what you do.”

  “Because of the commitment I made. I said I would be gone for four weeks. That’s the deal we made. I can’t tack on more time. Not now, a week before I’m supposed to go back.”

  “Why not?”

  Amber narrowed her eyes and looked into Linda’s serene face. She knew she would keep on asking annoying questions until Amber came to a pleasing conclusion. Amber could easily have this conversation in her head, on her own, while looking into the jungle that backed up onto the room she was staying in. She didn’t need Linda to ask her these questions, yet she welcomed them. Sometimes it was easier to reach a conclusion with someone else, to have a witness to the process, to
validate it more than a few thoughts in her head ever could.

  “It would make me feel as though I’m letting people down.”

  “I hate to say it, Amber, but you’re not irreplaceable. Someone’s been filling in for you for the past three weeks. There’s no reason why they couldn’t do the same for a few weeks longer. None of us are needed as much as we like to make ourselves believe.”

  Amber remembered the last email she had received from Micky. It was a litany of loved-up sentences raving about Robin. Not even her best friend needed her the way she had always done. The only one regularly asking her when exactly she was coming back was her goddaughter Olivia. Because people went on with their lives and Amber had friends and acquaintances and students and neighbors, but none of their lives were drastically altered by Amber going away for a few weeks. It was a thought at the same time so comforting and distressing it constricted something in her throat—maybe it was more distressing than comforting, after all.

  “Thank you for your endless wisdom, yogini Linda.” Amber tried to plaster on a smile.

  Linda shrugged. “We’re all here for one reason only. Well, most of us.”

  “To lose the importance of the self,” they said in unison.

  The truth was that most people at the retreat were there for many different reasons, but the program both Linda and Amber were in promoted selflessness and letting go of the ego specifically.

  There was another reason Amber wanted to go back. The memory of meeting Martha both elated and terrified her. It was exhilarating because of the promise that had crackled in the air between them. But it was frightening in equal measure because of a past heartache that Amber should be over by now, she really should, but that always came back to haunt her when she met someone interesting—someone interesting enough to contemplate truly getting to know them better.