“Who’d he go with?” She pushed.
“Do I look like the Spanish Inquisition?” Tuesday glanced at her yellow and blue romper. Only she could make an outfit like that stylish. “I told him to have fun. That’s it. End of story. We’ll hear from him soon. He’s an adult and doesn’t need us baby-sitting him twenty-four seven.“ Tuesday gave her a teasing push. “I need to scoot to theExamineroffice. The next clue should be out soon, and I want first dibs.”
Tuesday was gone in a flash, and Pepper stood alone, anxiety bubbling inside.
Kitty raised her nose, tail wagging.
“Well, looks like it’s just you and me, kid.” Pepper smiled. “When in doubt of what to do next, why not have a coffee?”
Inside Sweet Brew, Elizabeth Martin hunched over a laptop at the corner table and waved her over with a bright smile.
“I’m not interrupting, am I?”
“No, all done. Great timing.” The pretty woman shut the laptop. The afternoon light fell just so through the window, making her thick, black hair extra glossy. “Mayor B asked me to proofread one of his articles. He’s started a monthly column in the Back Fence and takes it very seriously. It’s going live tonight, and he didn’t get it to me until twenty minutes ago.”
“Oh dear. One of those moments where ‘a lack of planning on his part shouldn’t be your emergency’ sort of things?”
“Guuurl.” Elizabeth’s smile widened. Her dentist must love how well she represented their business. “Enough about my boring work.” She leaned closer, her voice taking on a conspiratorial air. “I hope you don’t mind me prying. But it appears that you’ve captured someone’s heart.”
“I have?” Pepper tried playing dumb.
“Rhett Valentine.”
“Oh? Hah. No. He just gives me tips for the dog-walking service,” she responded by rote. “We’re neighbors. It’s a geographical proximity thing.”
“That’s the official word on the street, but I’d hoped that you and I were becoming better friends,” Elizabeth wheedled, dropping her voice. “What’s the unofficial version?”
Pepper hesitated. Elizabeth exuded such a friendly, inviting air. It was tempting to open up, confide. “Rhett’s private.” She hesitated.
“Can’t fault him for that.” Elizabeth smoothed a finger over one perfectly sculpted brow. “The town means well, but they’ve been—how do I put this—enthusiastic about championing his love life.”
“I guess they feel bad that some harpy left him at the altar.”
“Harpy?” Why did Elizabeth squint like that? “Was thathischoice of words?”
“No.” Pepper hesitated. “He didn’t use that exact turn of phrase.” She’d stuck in that flourish to the narrative, because how could a woman leave Rhett alone at the altar? It made no sense. Birdie existed in the background of Rhett’s story, a ghost of lovers past. A series of unexplained questions because there were no photos, no hints around Rhett’s home. Had she been taller, shorter, fatter, thinner? Was she prettier? Sexier? Just…more?
“Good. Because that so-called harpy was me.”
Pepper laughed uneasily. “Yeah, right.”
“Hardest thing I ever did.” Elizabeth sounded serious. “Trust me, girl, when it comes to confusion and love, I wrote the book.”
“But he was engaged to—oh my God…” Pepper stared, gobsmacked. Her breath vanished in a gust. “Elizabeth, wait. Are you Birdie?”
“His old nickname for me.” She shrugged. “Look, it was a long time ago now. I panicked. It was stupid. I don’t regret calling off our wedding, but wish it could have been under better circumstances. I had to do what was best for me. And him. And neither of us regret it.”
A short awkward silence ensued.
“But…” Eloquence flew out the window. Pepper was at a complete loss. “I like you.”
“I like you, too.” They stared at each other. There was warmth there, and friendship, but also that moment of tacit understanding where it’s silently acknowledged that they’d both touched the same man.
“You’re not awful,” Pepper blurted through a pang of jealousy. “In this scenario you are supposed to be a home wrecker or deranged.”
Elizabeth laughed, a trifle uneasily. “Trust me, after two kids, I’m deranged all right.”
“But how do we do this?”
