“Did you not trust her or the art studio?”
She shakes her head. “I trust Claudia with my life. But after what happened in high school, doing something like that freaked me out.”
“You hardly know me. Why didn’t you freak out when I aimed the camera at you?”
She shrugs. “I just knew I was in safe hands. No one else would stay with me in a raging storm and risk their life to bring me down from the ledge I was stepping off.”
My chest expands. Something warm fills my heart. Holy hell, what is that? That’s never happened before.
Poking a finger in my arm, she says with a playful tone, “Those photos canneverbe shown toanyone. Delete them, or I’ll torment you and make your life miserable.”
“They are fucking amazing. The world should see how beautiful you are, but I’ll delete them if that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want,” she insist.
“It will be a shame to destroy them.”
“Promise me you’ll delete them.”
I rub the back of my neck. “I hate the thought of deleting my art.”
“Promise me,” she demands.
“Okay, I promise.”
“Cross your heart.” She smiles.
I take one hand off the steering wheel and make a cross sign on my chest.
When the town comes into view, I make my way to the diner and park out front. We step out of the car and head inside the Hop and Bop. It’s like we’ve literally stepped into the 1950s with its black and white checkered floors and faded, vintage movie posters on the walls. Pastel blue and pink booths fill the room, and white stools line the silver counter. This wasn’t done deliberately to give a nostalgic nod to the past. This place hasn’t been touched since it first opened seventy years ago. We slide into a cracked vinyl booth and pick up the plastic menus.
Penny takes in the restaurant. “I feel like I should be wearing a poodle skirt and bobby socks.” She laughs.
“I have no clue what those things are.” I chuckle.
“And you should be wearing a black leather jacket with your hair slicked back into a ducktail.”
“Never going to happen.”
“It all looks original,” she says, gazing at the restaurant’s décor.
“That’s because it is.”
She taps her fingers on the menu with a contemplative expression. “With a bit of a spruce up, reorganizing, and repairs, this diner would look amazing. People try to replicate things like this all the time. This is the real deal. Something that can’t be copied.”
“I’m sorry to say, I haven’t followed your career and don’t have a clue how you got started.” I know little about her life after I left school.
Penny props her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her fist. “It happened by accident. It’s never what I thought I’d be doing. I wanted to be a nurse.”
“What changed?”
“I went to college to study nursing. I didn’t party, so when I wasn’t buried in my books, I got creative in my spare time and started refurbishing old furniture and reorganizing my cupboards. I baked a lot too. One night, out of boredom, I decided to record myself organizing my closet, and I posted it online after a couple of red wines when the liquid courage kicked in. It did okay, so I posted a few more videos and gained a following. For years I felt invisible—in high school and college—then suddenly people knew who I was. I felt validated, and it felt good. After a couple of years, I dipped my toes into other social media platforms and things exploded. I got flooded with opportunities I could only ever dream about. Eventually I quit college and followed this path instead. I still pinch myself.” She drops her hand in her lap. “It’s probably all gone now.”
“You don’t know that for sure. After the shit blows over, no one will remember what happened.”
“I hope so.” She doesn’t sound confident.
“Good morning, Lucas. I heard you were back in town.” Louise, our waitress, strolls to our table with a notepad and pencil ready in hand. “What can I get you two?”
