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He glanced down at the ground where her feet were hidden under the chair.

“If that changes, you’ll tell me.” It wasn’t a question. It was an order, and she simply replied with a nod.

He lowered his chin and walked down the street. The meeting wasn’t a win but not a complete loss. She’d be left to do her own research on the case, but at least she had something to look forward to in a few weeks.

Imogene spent the next fifteen minutes eating her breakfast. Dining alone was nothing new for her. She’d been doing it for a long time. Some people talked about it being liberating to eat independently. Imogene found it immensely boring.

She paid her check, and when the waitress brought her change, Imogene left a generous tip and shoved the remaining five dollars in her pocket.

She strolled down the street, checking out all of the shops and restaurants. She’d been in Lawry for months but hadn’t explored this side of town yet. It was nicer than her section. She initially looked at an apartment not far from here, but the rent was outrageous.

Unlike earlier, she didn’t attempt to cross until the signal changed. She stepped onto the curb and peeked up at the building on the corner. It was a boutique. The clothes were displayed in the window with perfect jewelry accents. Years ago, it would’ve been somewhere she’d shopped. It was amazing how much life could change in a few years. Imogene hadn’t been exactly rich, but she’d made good money, had her grandparents’ inheritance, and owned a condo that she loved.

Now, it was all gone.

Judging by the clothes alone, she knew this place was beyond anything she could afford. But…rules were rules. She’d parked in designated “Customer Parking.”

Do the right thing.

She walked inside and drew in the scent. It was a soft, sweet, flowery mix. The retail space wasn’t large by any means, which made it all the more welcoming. She wasn’t much of a browser, but she took her time walking through. The setup was carefully curated to showcase the beautiful clothes. It was as if each piece had been hand selected. She circled around a carousel of scarves and knitted hats. There was a lime green bucket hat that caught her eye. She’d always been a fan of headwear. Newsboys, ballcaps, beanies, but the bucket hat was her favorite. She pulled it from the bin and shook out her hair before putting it on. It was soft, shielding her eyes perfectly. She turned to the mirror behind her and smiled. It was the perfect fit.

She took it off and flipped over the price tag. She sucked in a breath and widened her eyes. What the…

Ninety-two dollars for a knitted bucket hat? The quality and material were definitely more expensive than the average fabric, and it was obviously hand crafted. But…oh my God! She swallowed the knot in her throat. She was halfway to the bin when she heard footsteps from behind.

“You have to get that!”

Imogene spun around and froze. The man was probably in his seventies, professionally dressed in a suit, and funnily enough, a hat. He was like a throwback character in a 1960s movie. He moved closer, smiling and pointing to the hat in her hand.

“It was made for you, honey.” He waved his finger, gesturing to her face. “The red hair, the bright eyes.” He snapped his fingers and pointed again. “Green is your color.”

A heat rushed across her face, and her heart pounded at double speed. It had been a long time since she’d gotten any type of compliment. Even if it came from a man old enough to be her grandfather, it was welcome. Thank you, sir.

“Aw well, I appreciate that.” She loosened her hold on the hat and gingerly placed it in the bin. “But it’s um, a little out of my price range.” She snorted. “I mean, who pays ninety-two dollars for a bucket hat?”

His jaw squared, and she got the sense she’d somehow insulted the hat. Or the store?

“I’m sure it’s worth it though,” she blurted.

The corner of his mouth curled, and a boisterous laugh bounced off the walls. “My girl knows great quality, so I can assure you it’s worth every penny.”

Oh great! It was no wonder he seemed insulted.

“Your daughter owns the store?”

His gaze softened. “Something like that.”

Imogene stepped back and waved her hand. “Well, tell her it’s beautiful, and I’ll definitely be back.”

Yeah, if I hit the lottery.

“You just got here. Don’t want to look around some more?” He extended his arm, reminding her of a gameshow host. Strange.

She knitted her brows. “Do you work here?”

He grinned, and his eyes shifted past her.

“Sal doesn’t work here, but he does enjoy harassing the customers.”