Dear Boss,
Sara was too hasty in asking me to delete her brother’s Tumblr account. I have archived the content in a safe storage location. If she ever changes her mind, she can easily retrieve it.
She invited me to stay with her under the night sky. Permit me to express how very much I liked that quiet hour. She shared more memories of her brother. While she has far to go to heal, perhaps today she is a solid step closer.
Sara needed a trusted friend tonight and reached for me. Although I have appreciated all three assignments in Magnolia Grove, it is with Sara that I have felt most like a peer. I find that utterly appealing.
Regards,
Grant
14
Both More and Less
My eyes opened slowly. I was lying in my bed in a quiet house, cocooned by the sense that I was awakening to a hopeful day.
The need to look good gripped me. I would try. Really try. After my shower, I put on a skirt, lacy top, and coordinating accessories. Then I returned to the bathroom to seek a healthy balance between effort and results. Makeup applied. Hair anchored on top of my head in a knot.
I went to find Grant before I had my first cup of coffee. Tapping lightly on the lantern, I said, “Photos today.”
There was a faint hiss and a puff of blue smoke. “Are you on the schedule at the shop today, Sara?”
“One to five.”
“Do you wish to review the photos after you return?”
“Later is good.”
He bowed his head. “See you then.”
The shop wasn’t busy. There were a few people who were purely browsing and an older woman who bought beachwear for her grandkids. The most fun came from a lady who had to put an outfit together for a mother-daughter tea party. The mother was supposed to wear a hat—which she’d been dreading until her gaze landed on a vintage hat of starched lace. And from the smile on her face when I pinned a cameo brooch to one side, I’d say we had a new and faithful customer.
Once she’d left, I made a mental note to add more vintage accessories to our inventory. They had turned into a hit.
It was nearly time to close when the bell jingled over the door. I stifled a groan. Since shoppers had been light today, I had begun to close out already. Now I might have to start over.
Spinning around, I pasted on my best service smile, turned to my late customer, and blinked in surprise. “Hello, Monica.”
“Hi.” She smiled shyly, her eyes shifting past me to look around.
The Crystals & Lace shoe collection must have caught her attention because she crossed to its display case, her attention riveted on our best-selling shoes.
“Those are some of my favorites, too.” I lifted a pair of sneakers, hand-painted with crimson poppies. “The artist is Lacey Linden.”
“Oh, yeah. I know her.” Monica’s gaze raised to mine. “Is everything in your shop on consignment?”
“Mostly. Some items we find at estate sales or the flea market to sell outright, but we really enjoy featuring local vendors.”
She picked up a pair of bejeweled flip-flops, frowned at the price tag, and put them down again. “Are you friends with Scott?”
So here was the real mission of her visit—discovering what his relationship was with me. Would she ask me to step out of the picture? I wouldn’t agree. I liked being around Scott. How could I explain how important our conversations had become? If anyone could tug me out of my daze, it would be someone who’d suffered like I had.
As I straightened the shoe display, I gave a vague answer. “We’re friendly.”
“So you’re not dating?” There was desperation in her voice.
Pity warred with reticence, and pity won. I smoothed my face into a pleasantly curious expression. “I’m not dating anyone.”
