I'll Keep Her Safe- Excerpt​

Chapter One

 

Poppy

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Never have I ever been so disappointed by a salad. The leaves are wilted, the dressing is too oily, and why is there so much basil?

These people should be ashamed of themselves.

I push the plate away with a wrinkle of my nose, turning my attention to my laptop. Granted, salads have never been my area of expertise, but even I could do better than that.

Bringing up the draft of our new website, I tune out the hum of the cafe to focus. Even without the atrocious food, this isn’t a great place to work. It’s busy, which isn’t surprising given it’s 2 p.m. on a weekday, but at least I have a view over Broadway from my table in the window. And if I crane my neck, I can catch a glimpse of Columbus Circle. Manhattan always inspires me. It also helps that I’m surrounded by at least five other people working on their laptops as they sip their coffee. That’s New York for you.

I catch sight of my best friend Bailey through the glass and give her a wave. Today, we’re finalizing a few last minute details for our digital marketing business before it launches next week. My stomach gives a nervous ripple at the thought.

Though that could just be the salad.

“Hi,” I say, as Bailey slides into a chair next to me.

“Hey.” Her amber eyes scan the street through the window as she rakes a hand through her short, platinum-blond-dyed hair. “It’s so hot out. I need an iced coffee, like, now.” With a flick of her wrist, and not a single ounce of self-consciousness, she summons a waitress.

I snort a laugh, changing the font on the front page of our website. That’s Bailey—even at three years younger than me, she knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid to make it happen. That’s how she scored her boyfriend of two years, Dean. She spotted him walking down Fifth Avenue in a crisp suit and told me, “I want him,” then walked right up and introduced herself. They went on a date that night. He could have been an asshole, or some kind of creep for all she knew, but somehow, Bailey found the one guy in Manhattan who is as down to earth as her. She moved into his apartment a month later, and they haven’t looked back.

The waitress scurries off, and Bailey rests her hands on the table, watching as I change the font back with a frown. I’ve been tweaking this website for nearly a month now, and it’s still not right.

Bailey motions to my plate of soggy leaves. “What’s wrong this time?”

I exhale, fiddling with the color of our logo. “Too much dressing, there’s no crunch, the kale isn’t fresh… I could go on.”

My friend snorts into her hand. It’s not the first time I’ve complained about the food in a cafe, and definitely won’t be the last.

“Remind me again why we couldn’t do this at home?” she asks, watching me lighten the shade of teal in our logo.

“We decided that we need a separation between home and work, remember? It’s the only way this will feel like a real job and not a hobby.”

“Right,” she murmurs. She’s quiet while I change our logo back to its original color, then says, “Poppy… we need to talk.”

“I know.” I grimace, nudging the picture of Bailey and I that sits at the center of our homepage a little to the right. “It’s not ready, and I said I’d have it done. But—”

“It’s not that.”

I move the image back, frustrated, and close the lid of my laptop with a sigh. She’s been unbelievably patient with me, and not only with the website.

The truth is, I wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for Bailey. She’s been my rock over the past few years; the reason I graduated from business school last month, the reason we have the business we’re launching, and the great apartment we share. Well, the apartment I share with her and Dean.

But more than all of those things combined, she’s the reason I finally ended things with Kurt. She and Dean took me in, letting me move into their spare room. It was Dean’s workout space, but he graciously moved all his equipment into the living room without so much as a complaint. And since Dean earns three times more than Bailey and I combined, he’s been nice enough to cover the lion’s share of the rent. Without those two, I would probably still be in that tiny apartment in Queens with Kurt. And if not there… Well, suffice it to say, I wouldn’t be in a good place.

I shake off the thought of my ex and focus back on my friend. There’s a line of worry along her forehead, and my gut pinches.

“What’s going on?”

The waitress deposits Bailey’s iced coffee on the table in front of her, but Bailey doesn’t move. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

Unease prickles along my skin. Despite the July heat, I shiver. “About what?”

“Ugh.” She drops her head to where her hands rest on the table. “I got offered a job.”

“That’s it?” A relieved laugh escapes me. “Why would I be mad? We always knew we’d need jobs while we grew the business.”

“Yes, but…” She finally lifts her head to meet my gaze. “It’s in San Francisco.”

Oh.

The smile slides from my lips. “Right. Wow.”

“I don’t have to take it,” she says quickly, reaching for her coffee.

“What’s the position?”

She fiddles with her straw. “Digital marketing strategist. It’s with Hawthorne and Associates.”

“That’s huge,” I mumble. They’re one of the biggest marketing companies on the West Coast. I shouldn’t be surprised, though. Bailey was top of our class and graduated summa cum laude. She might not have been looking for jobs with a big firm like Hawthorne, but they found her. Of course they did.

My lungs constrict in my chest. It’s a familiar feeling, like I’m treading water and not quite keeping my head above the waves. For years I’ve felt like I’m one step behind everyone around me, ever since I switched from culinary school to marketing. I’m twenty-five and I’ve only just graduated, still living with my friend and her boyfriend. Meanwhile, Bailey has already met the love of her life and scored her dream job… at the ripe age of twenty-two.

“I know.” She sips her coffee, her brows dipped. Her gaze comes back to mine, resolute. “But we agreed to start the business, so I’ll—”

“No.” I shove my self-centered thoughts away and force a smile onto my lips. “You should take it. You need to take it. It’s an incredible opportunity.”

“What about the business?”

I take a beat to contemplate this. We finished our business plan a few days ago, and I’m this close to having the website ready. I really don’t want to give up now. Besides, it’s not like I have a marketing job of my own lined up.

“I think we should still build it. On the side.”

“We should totally do that.” A gleam of hope lights Bailey’s eyes. “You really think I should take this job?”

“Yes.” I can tell she really wants it, and there’s no way I’m selfish enough to stop her. I ignore the churn in my stomach as I add, “You deserve this, B. I won’t let you turn it down.”

She reaches across the table for my hand. “Thanks for being so understanding. You’re the best.” With a squeeze, she lets go of my hand and releases a long-held breath. “I guess that means I’m moving to San Francisco.”

My heart sinks at the thought of my best friend moving thousands of miles away. Her boyfriend’s face flashes through my mind, and I ask, “What about Dean?”

“He’s going to transfer to the West Coast branch.” Bailey saws her teeth nervously along her bottom lip. “So that means…”

A rock drops into my stomach. I’m losing my lovely room in their apartment in Sugar Hill, upper Manhattan. The first place I’ve truly been able to relax in years.

I shouldn’t be surprised. That was always supposed to be temporary. Besides, Bailey and Dean could use some time alone. I’ve been cramping their style for far too long, and it’s time to move on.

“Yeah, I get it,” I murmur, reaching for my glass of iced water. It’s been sitting out so long in the heat that it’s no longer cold, all the condensation pooled on the table around it. 

I straighten my spine, determined to stay positive. My friend has been given an amazing opportunity, and so have I, in a way. Now is not the time to dwell on the fact that I had my hours cut at the coffee shop where I’ve worked for the past year.

And there’s no point in even thinking about the money Kurt stole from me.

“When are you leaving?” I ask around a sip of tepid water, and Bailey grimaces.

“Uh, three days.”

Alarm races up my spine. “Three days?”

“I know. It’s all happening so quickly. Maybe I shouldn’t even—”

“You’re going.” I swallow hard, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll… figure something out.”

“Like what?”

“I’m sure I can find a room on Craigslist,” I say, mentally trying to calculate how much I’ve got saved and how long it will last me.

And then there are the student loans I’m supposed to be paying off…

Bailey’s brows pinch in concern. “I don’t want you to move in with some random off Craigslist.”

I lift a shoulder, pretending it’s no big deal. “That’s what everyone else does.”

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Bailey shakes her head. “I’d offer for you to keep the apartment for a while, but Dean’s already found someone to sublet. He was worried if we didn’t…”

“It’s okay, I understand. I’ll find somewhere.” What I don’t say is that I could never in a million years afford to stay there, even if I wanted to.

“And I don’t know if you should be there alone,” she adds, a shadow crossing her face.

I give what I hope passes for a playful roll of my eyes. “Kurt hasn’t showed up for months. I’m pretty sure he’s over it.”

She frowns, opening her mouth to say something, then seems to think better of it. Bailey and Dean have had my back over the past year while my ex dealt with our breakup in his own unique way. Lately, though, he seems to have calmed down, and I could not be more relieved.

Silence falls over us as Bailey sucks on the straw of her iced coffee, her gaze trained on the street outside. I sip my luke-warm water, the reality of the situation hitting me. I have three days to find a new place to live, or… I don’t know what.

Shit.

Anxiety needles my chest as I consider my options. I can’t even move home, because my parents sold their house to travel through Europe the minute I left for college. They’ve always been more interested in themselves than me, so I’m fairly certain I haven’t been missed. Besides, I’m from a tiny town in Indiana, and I cannot describe the triumph I felt at leaving that place when I finished high school. Of course, I wish I hadn’t done it with Kurt, but I can’t change the past. The point is, I love living in the city. Even if I could move back home, I wouldn’t want to. Giving up New York would be like giving up completely.

And there’s no way in hell I’m going to do that.

“I guess I should say congratulations.” I coax a smile onto my lips, trying my best to tamp down the panic rising inside me. This isn’t about me—it’s about my friend and her exciting news.

Though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling a little blindsided. We were going to work together to grow this business, and I hadn’t planned on moving out quite so abruptly. Even with my best efforts to remain calm, my chest grows tight and hot. It feels like I can’t keep my head above the water anymore. The waves are coming faster, I’m floundering, and I don’t know which way is up.

“We’ve got three days,” Bailey assures me. It must be obvious I’m spiraling, because she puts an arm around my shoulders and tugs me into her side with a wry smile. “I’m not going to leave you homeless. You wouldn’t last five minutes on the street.”

Despite everything, a laugh seeps from me. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, inhaling deeply to pull myself together. “We should be celebrating your big news.”

“We will. But first we need to figure this out.”

I look gratefully at my friend. You know what? She’s right. Stroking a finger across the lotus tattoo on the inside of my left wrist, I remind myself of what I’ve been through over the past year—of all the strength it has given me. I refuse to let this defeat me. I will figure this out.

I have to.​

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​© 2025 Jen Morris​