Page 62 of On One Condition

Wayne? The man who knocked on the bathroom door at Connor’s. “Poor Mrs. Wayne then.”

“I know, right? And Judy Jensen is grumbling over how it’s you who pulled in the new, wealthy, eligible bachelor in town when she clearly has more to offer him than you do.”

“Fuck her,” I say as I point to a cute shirt displayed in a storefront.

“My sentiments exactly,” Nita says as she angles her head to look at it.

We window-shop. This is our thing, the way we spend time together and unwind. When you struggle financially, there’s not much else you can do, so we’ve fallen into this routine where we head here or there and stroll around while we talk.

“Nah,” she finally says as we move to the next window. “That color washes me out.”

“What about Carson?” I grimace. “I need to call him and apologize.”

“He’s fine.” She rolls her eyes and swats at my arm. “He came back into the bar. One minute nursing his bruised ego. The next lying about how he knocked the guy—er, Ledger—out cold.”

“Which didn’t happen, by the way, but if people believe that then they should also believe I was bringing Ledger back to consciousness with a little mouth-to-mouth,” I say coyly with a flutter of my lashes.

Nita bursts out laughing. “Personally? I think every woman in town is jealous of you, so you just keep on doing what you’re doing because you know what? Screw them.”

“I’m not going to argue on that one.”

“So, because there is in fact gossip and you did in fact disappear from Connor’s, can I assume the two of you worked through your differences, then?” She leans in and looks closely at a diamond pendant in the jewelry store display.

“In so many words, yes.”

“And the answers you were looking for were satisfactory and that more than kissing happened—according to Wayne, that is.”

I laugh and point to a yellow diamond ring that sparkles. “Wayne is correct, yes, but you already knew that.”

“So what changed your mind? Or rather tipped the scales for you?”

“I decided that maybe this is what I need right now. Maybe he is. That I’m walking into whatever this is with the knowledge that he has a life, that I have a life, and in two months he’ll be gone.”

“So, enjoy the time you have, void of any expectations?”

“Yes.”

“How very mature of you.”

“Or stupid of me,” I mutter.

“It’s only stupid if you forget to keep your heart locked down. Something that I might add that you’re pretty damn good at.”

At least I have her vote of confidence on this.

“Oh, look.” She tugs on my arm to go inside an apothecary store. There are soaps and lotions and a million other things to sniff and sample and fawn over. “Talk about pamper central.”

I’m mesmerized by the scents running into one another and the décor and the product packaging. I pick up a tin and smell the candle inside. “Definitely pamper central.”

“I could buy one of everything in here.”

“I wouldn’t complain about that,” a woman says as she approaches us, smile big, eyes kind. “I’m Sarah. Owner and jack-of-all-trades here. Just let me know if you have any questions. Everything is locally sourced and made in my own garage,” she says.

“Oh. Wow. That’s incredible.” Nita picks up another sample jar and smells it.

“Thank you. I was laid off from my corporate job and was struggling with how to make ends meet. I fell back on what I knew best to save the day—making soaps and oils. It’s something my grandmother taught me when I was little. It was our bonding time. Who knew it would save the day?”

“It’s amazing how that happens sometimes,” I say. “Congratulations. By the line at the cash register and the boxes stacked for UPS to pick up, it looks like it was the right decision.”