More curious than ever, I ducked behind a display of tote bags and waited. For what, I wasn't even sure.
But I did know one thing.
I sure as hell wasn't bored.
I was intrigued, like a kid with a puzzle he couldn't figure out – except my puzzle had a name.
Tessa Sinclair.
What was she up to?
And why?
22
I Don't Want Your Fudge
Tessa
By the time I stepped into the ninth shop – yes, Iwascounting – my palms were damp and my nerves were frayed.
My eyes went straight to the shelves. Scanning fast, I saw mugs, sunglasses, and finally, specialty soaps.
I perked up.Please, please, please…
I moved closer, and…no dice.
Or more accurately, no bubble bath.
My shoulders sagged.Shit.
Clutching the plastic bottle tighter to my chest, I moved deeper into the store, passing a display of postcards already curling at the edges. I tried to stay calm, but my chest felt tight, and the longer I searched, the more anxious I felt.
I'd assumed this would be easy. Maisie's brand of bubble bath looked like the kind you'd find at any local boutique. Clearly, I was wrong.
In my pocket, I had eleven crumpled dollar bills, all tips from the morning rush. I exhaled slowly and kept scanning the shelves. Even if I found the right bottle, would eleven dollars be enough? Or would I need to come back this afternoon with a few dollars more?
Yeah, right.
I should be so lucky. If I hadn't found the bubble bath by now, odds were slim I'd find it later.
But I refused to give up yet.
Squaring my shoulders, I approached the sales counter, where a young woman in a lilac apron was reorganizing a display of travel-sized lotions.
With my most hopeful smile, I said, "Uh…hi. Sorry to bother you, but do you carry this?" I thrust the bottle outward, close enough to make her flinch. "Oops. Sorry about that." With an embarrassed laugh, I pulled it halfway back. "So…uh, do you?"
She barely looked before shaking her head. "Afraid not." But then she brightened. "We've got lots of soap though. Those marbled bars are really popular."
Crap.
Unless I could liquify those bars into Maisie's bottle – and make the concoction smell exactly the same – those bars of soap were totally useless.
Still, I thanked her with a smile. It wasn'therfault that I'd tipped that bottle into the tub.
I turned away – and froze.
The bottle hit the floor as I let out a squeak because guess who I was suddenly facing – and up close and personal, too.
