“Do you have a food aversion from childhood?”he asked, curious.
“Nope.I’ll eat almost anything.”She popped up, and he felt as if the tenuous thread between then snapped.“A lotta years I was broke, so food was necessity—not so much a pleasure.I need to get a box for the other half of my sandwich.Need anything?”
“I can get it.”
“Sit,” she said like he was an obedient dog.“Savor.”
Telford tried to remember the last meal he’d savored.Had food become a necessity for him as well, not a pleasure?
Ayana hadn’t even made it to the counter before she stopped to chat animatedly to two women, both carrying large takeout bags.The women were a study of contrasts.One was an auburn-haired beauty with killer curves, and a throaty laugh that carried across the café.The other was pretty, delicate-looking blonde with twin braids that started at her center part and skimmed her waist.But both dressed like working cowgirls—worn Wranglers, buttery leather boots that looked beat up, and comfortable long-sleeve, soft cotton T-shirts, plaid western-style shirts, knotted at the waist, and barn coats.
Ayana stood up, turned a circle, arms out, head back, an amused smile on her features.The long knitted—no she’d said it was crocheted—vest with leather fringe woven into a vee around her shoulder blades and then fringed at the bottom flared out as she spun.Arms wide, holding the vest out, she executed a curtsy.
It was so unselfconscious, so light-filled, he just stood there staring at her as if she was some fantastic fantasy creature from a storybook come to life.
The two women touched the vest with awe, talking excitedly.Ayana shrugged out of it—held it out to the blonde, whose eyes widened with surprise.Her cheeks pinked, and she looked at her friend, quickly, but then shook her head, saying something, he couldn’t catch.
The three of them pulled out their phones and leaned in toward each other, maybe sharing contact information?Why?They were in a café.Random strangers.The woman with the auburn hair lifted her phone to take a picture, but Ayana shook her head and held out the vest again to the women, holding up her phone.The auburn-haired woman shrugged on the vest and stylishly struck a few poses, and the blonde did the same thing, laughing.Ayana took pictures and smiled her thanks.
The moment seemed so natural, everyone smiling, looking at the pictures.The blonde hugged the vest to herself for a moment before taking it off and handing it back to Ayana.While she put her jacket back on, she asked Ayana something.Ayana nodded, took out her phone, and made a voice memo.
After a few more seconds, they group-hugged, laughed, and Ayana waved them off.The women exited the café, with that fluid stride Telford had always associated with working cowgirls, who’d grown up and worked with horses.His mother had moved with purpose like that.
She sat back down, placed her sandwich in the box and resumed eating her soup.
“What was that about?”he asked, wondering if he was stepping over the line.
“That was serendipity and a potential business lead.”
“Your vest?”
“Yeah, Sherlock.”She grinned.“I don’t make enough to live on with my designs, but it’s a solid side hustle, and since I don’t like to sit around and do nothing and am obsessed with color and texture and being useful… I do a lot of crafting.”
She spooned in the last of the soup.“I’m thinking I’ll have more time to research and create this year so maybe I can come up with some new designs and patterns and sell them online as well—scale up my business model.”
He noted she’d said year, not six months, and that felt like progress.
“I did find out there’s a yarn store in town.”
“I’m sure we’re headed there after lunch.”
She grinned.“You’re not wrong, but approaching those two was also reconnaissance.I recognized the blonde from my Telford family research and wanted to accidently bump into them to get a feel.My duster vest did the heavy social lifting.”
“Clothing as a spy tool.”
She pointed at him and palmed her latte.“Exactly.The two women, who were super friendly, loved my duster vest and wanted to know where I bought it.I blabbed about how we just arrived this Friday and that I’d been so inspired by the whole historic western vibe of Main Street so I’d Amazoned some western-style craft supplies to the Graff, and I asked them where I could find a local supplier for my knitting and crochet designs.People in small towns appreciate it when you shop local.”
He wondered what thread of the conversation he was supposed to grab and pull.
“Why did you give them so much information?”
“To get information.To disarm them.They know I’m newly married, so they won’t worry about their men or see me as a threat.They know you’re loaded because of the suite at the Graff, and I have a useful talent, so they opened up.But they also want to help me.”
He stared at her, bewildered by her unfettered analysis.And the effortlessness and effectiveness of her gift for reading people and opportunity.
“I think I should have offered you Cam’s half of the company instead of me.”
She found that hilarious.“You will never catch me sitting in an urban high-rise crunching numbers.But”—her eyes tilted at the corners as she smiled—“I’ll keep the money-grabbing opportunity in mind and stick with you… for now.”
