Alice lay back against the headrest. “How’s the play?”
Russ snorted. “It’s fine?”
“That bad?”
“It’s not what I’d hoped.” Russ pulled onto the highway. His mood was growing blustery, like the fall weather.
“You’re probably trying too hard and are too hard on yourself.”
“Probably.” He changed lanes. “The pressure to be funny is some of the worst kind of pressure.”
“So if you’re not excited about the story, start a new one.”
Start a new one.Russ mulled that over. He was definitely starting a new story. Moving to California was a ninety-degree turn.
His eyes cut to her pretty face as she reclined against the headrest. Was Alice starting a story too? He hated the idea of her with a guy, all wrapped up and cozy through the fall and into the winter. He couldn’t even picture it.
Maybe hecouldpicture it—if he were the guy.
The mental movie came all too easy. Except Alice didn’t think of him like that. They were friends. Really good friends. If he wanted more … better not to go down that trail of thought.
When he’d moved to Harvest Ranch, he was beyond thrilled at relocating. This time, he had a knot in his stomach and a dull ache behind his eyes. But like Gabriella said, sometimes you had to plug away at life—pay your dues—before it panned out. He’d had a few amazing years in New York, and it was time to take it to the next level.
“It will come.” Alice patted his arm. She leaned back, content to just listen to the music and be.
Her calming essence filled the car, and Russ’s grip on the wheel relaxed. If she was moving on, finding someone to be with, then he should be happy for her. Should be, but wasn’t.
His gaze strayed from the road to his arm where Alice had touched him. The skin still tingled. He couldn’t bring himself to disrupt the only peaceful moment he’d had in a week by starting a long goodbye. It was selfish and dastardly of him to keep it a secret—and on one level, he felt very much like the con artist who’d walked off with their book.
He promised himself he’d tell her soon and then settled into the drive.
Chapter Eleven
Thursday afternoons were always full of bustle at A Dollar Does It as families procured paper plates and cups, wrapping paper, and tablecloths for weekend birthday parties. Today, a different whisper was in the air as a steady stream of moms with young kids had come through Alice’s checkout line, their baskets full of fall-themed decorations and plastic pumpkins. Children eagerly volunteered their costume ideas with little prompting from Alice. She loved the cherub-cheeked grins of future Princess Leias, Reys, Finns, Iron Men, and Chewbaccas.
However, it wasn’t the upcoming Halloween holiday that had Alice wishing every customer a very happy day. Nor was it the Fall Festival in full swing. What really had Alice in a good mood, despite the lack of progress with Russ, was that today she was going to meet up with Karleigh to put the finishing touches on her English paper.
Russ was radio silent today and she missed the sound of his luscious voice. Not to mention the way everything in the world was brighter when he was around. As crazy as it seemed, the sky was bluer, Harvest Ranch was more festive, and she felt more like herself, like the person she’d always wanted to be but didn’t know how. He unlocked a calmness, a sense of right that allowed her to shine in ways she’d never thought possible.
Following her feminine instincts, and Stacy’s advice, she hadn’t called him. Giving him space defied what her heart told her to do. The small organ could be very persuasive at times, and Alice had resorted to long walks up and down Main Street to provide a distraction from the daydreams.
At the end of her shift, Alice whipped off her green apron and pushed out of the glass doors covered in bargain ads. The crisp breeze bit into her face, as if Mother Nature had eaten a whole package of Tic Tacs before she started blowing. The smell of dried leaves and cinnamon accompanied her as she walked. She’d had the early shift and had plenty of time to do some retail therapy at Threads & Hems before meeting Karleigh at the library during her free period.
Alice slowed as she approached Threads & Hems’s main doors. The window displays were always worth the time to window shop, and today’s were no exception. A scarecrow stood sentry over an array of pumpkins, gourds, and fall foliage artfully displayed to bring attention to the posters advertising the Fall Festival.
With the quick step of her ballet shoes, Alice was through the glass entryway, past the perfume and shoe displays, and into the women’s department. The solid beams in the ceiling and the beautiful brick, as old as the town itself, paired with gray carpet and white paint, gave the shop a modern, edgy feel.
Stunning dresses in pumpkin and spice colors adorned impossibly thin mannequins. Alice perused the display, but she wasn’t here for a dress. She was here for casual chic, so she headed towards the sales rack.
Her and Russ’s time at the estate sale had gone well, but Russ had been distracted. Normally, she would chalk it up to his writing—he could be half in this world and half in the one in his head. But this time, it was different. There was a tinge of uncertainty and a dash of wistfulness when their eyes met. When she thought about it later on, she wondered if he was comparing her to Gabriella. The thought made her blood boil.
She whipped through the hangers, the hooks whooshing against the metal rack. Sure, she bought budget cosmetics and discount shampoo, but her mom had been beautiful before the bitterness sank in, and Alice was confident enough in her natural beauty that she wouldn’t shrink from a little competition. Besides, she knew much more about Russ than some drop-in drama queen.
“Hi, Alice. Can I help you find anything?” asked none other than Jenny Smith, last year’s Miss Harvest Ranch. She had the kind of blond hair that other people bought and clipped to their head—thick and long with barrel curls. Her big blue eyes were outlined with lashes caterpillars would envy, and she stood straight and tall.
Alice was thrown back into junior high, when she’d attempted to cut her own bangs.
She looked around to see if she’d disturbed other shoppers with her constant shuffling of the merchandise and possible muttering of curse words. No one was in the immediate area, and Alice turned her attention back to Jenny. Jenny was well on her way to a degree in fashion and wore clothing like she was a mannequin come to life.
