“I sure.”
The sound of the door’s bells jingled. As much as she wanted to stand, Shelby waited until the shopkeeper appeared at the display rack.
“He gone now.” The old woman helped Shelby stand.
“Which way did he go?” She shook out her legs and rubbed the cramping muscles above her knees, staying below the shelving in case he showed up again.
“He go look other shop. I call cops now?”
“No.” Shelby straightened. “Thank you, but I think I’ll use your back door, if that’s okay.” She pointed to a small cooler filled with plastic bottles. “I’ll buy a bottle of that.”
“Žincica?” The shopkeeper grinned, the twinkle in her eyes a warning. “You sure?”
“Uh, yeah.” Shelby shrugged and pulled some money from her purse. “I like to try new things.” She handed the bills to the woman. “Now, the back door?”
The woman moved a large rolling rack to expose a door. It opened into a short hallway. The shopkeeper peeked out the door that opened to a dim alley before letting Shelby go outside.
“Thank you again.” Shelby turned down the alley, away from Grantham Industries headquarters. She’d report in today, as commanded. On her terms. As she began the climb up the tall San Francisco hill, she wished she’d worn different shoes.
***
Wade Masters froze at the sound ofWild Thingfrom somewhere behind him. He found it poetic he should hearthatoldie as a ringtone today, of all days. The instinct to turn around hit him as powerfully as it ever had over the last four years. What if he looked and it was really her? Today, it could happen.
But how many times had he made a fool of himself chasing after that song? Leaning his head back a little, Wade tried to hear if that familiar voice answered it. If someone did, the noise in the crowded shop swallowed the sound. The ring seemed to move away and then stopped abruptly. He looked over his shoulder then, stretching to see over the heads of the people behind him.
“Your hot chocolate is ready,” the clerk said. “Good luck with it.” She winked at him and turned to the person behind him.
Wade stepped out of the way, still searching the crowd. Not seeing the face he sought, he made his way outside into the cool San Francisco sunshine. He checked in both directions but saw no one who looked remotely like Shelby.
After taking a careful sip of the hot chocolate, he paused to savor the strawberry taste for a second. He opened the lid to find melting marshmallows, white chips, and chocolate chips. Just the kind of thing Shelby loved. Or used to love.
If only the owner of that phone had been her. It’d be better to meet her accidentally before showing up at a Grantham Industries business meeting she attended. He paused, picturing himself offering to buy her a hot chocolate.
“Hey, bud, move it,” a strange man said. “You’re blocking the trash can.”
“Oh, sorry.” Wade stepped aside. Daydreaming again. Today he had to be on his toes.
As he drank the hot chocolate, he stared down the street, where the tall Grantham building shone in the bright sunshine. How much had the years changed her? All this time, as he’d tracked what little Shelby posted on social media, he’d imagined her even more beautiful, more confident.
Did she still drive herself like she had some taskmaster on her shoulder cracking a whip over her? He’d always admired the passion she put into everything she cared about. She never did anything halfway. Like how she’d stood up for him that first day at college. It had resulted in him being teased about his “little protector,” but never in front ofher. He grinned. No one had dared to cross her.
Wade’s grin slipped, and he frowned at the building. Not Shelby Nash. ShelbyGrantham. He hadn’t handled finding out about that well. But she’d just unloaded the information on him. Wade had grown up in a home with a father who loathed corporate snakes like the man who’d stolen his life savings. How could Wade have explained to the fam that he’d wanted to marry a Grantham, daughter of the king of corporate snakes?
All those thoughts had flashed through his mind when she’d dropped the bomb on him at their graduation practice. He might have even spoken some of the thoughts aloud; he couldn’t remember. But the look on her face had burned itself into his memory. She’d turned and stormed away. He’d have gone after her then if he’d had any idea he’d never see her again.
Until today.
Wade’s hands turned cold, and he considered the empty cup he still held. Maybe a Love Potion hot chocolate would soften her up. He turned back to the shop. The line now had a good twenty people outside the building. He checked his watch. No time. Alan Bradley had insisted that Wade not be late. He tossed the empty cup into the trash and headed for the Grantham building.
