“Yes, I am!” Bree cried hoarsely. “And the worst part is, I’ve tried not to be. I even bought a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. But when I looked in the mirror”—she paused, brushing a wayward tear from her eye—“I didn’t look likemeanymore. How pathetic is that?”
“It’s not pathetic at all.” Penny squeezed her hand. “And if you want your entire wardrobe to consist of outfits from the 1930s, you go right ahead.”
“But they’ll make fun of me,” Bree whimpered.
“Maybe,” Penny answered honestly. “But if they have any sense, they’ll realize that decade held more glamour in a single suede glove than our generation can claim in an entire high-end fashion line.”
“That’s true,” Bree grinned through her tears.
“If you’re really worried about it,”—Penny added—“you can try pairing some pieces from that era with more modern clothing. But in the end, you can’t live your life afraid of other people’s opinions. What’s in here,”—she said, tapping her heart—“is much more important than the outside embellishments. And you, my dear, are the sweetest, smartest, most hardworking and caring woman I know. And I promise you, the people of Santa Barbara will come to see that, too. No matter what you’re wearing.”
Before Penny had finished her speech, Bree threw her arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. “Will you come visit me?”
“Try to stop me,” Penny promised.
And to her surprise, the words spilled from her lips without a moment’s hesitation.
* * *
Standing on a bustling street corner in San Francisco left a strange emptiness in the pit of Colt’s stomach. And with each step he took toward the unremarkable antiques shop, he felt Penny’s absence more acutely.
Normally, he’d relish the opportunity for a change in scenery. But being away from the woman he loved seemed to drain most of the enjoyment from the day’s excursion. His thoughts perpetually drifted to what she might be doing in that moment and whether she was thinking of him, too.
Pushing through the front door, he nearly stumbled backward in surprise. He’d expected the establishment to at least hold a passing resemblance to Thistle & Thorn, yet the dull, uninspired space couldn’t be more different. The grid-like shelving units possessed none of the whimsy or magic, although many of the items themselves were similar.
Colt’s chest swelled with pride, realizing Thistle & Thorn was a reflection of its owner. And Penny’s passion and vibrant imagination was something no other shop owner could replicate, even if they wanted to. The store, like its owner, was truly one of a kind.
“Can I help you?” The tired, uninterested clerk barely tore his gaze from the flat-screen TV displaying some low-budget action movie Colt had never seen before.
“I’m looking for this.” He held out a slip of paper with an item number printed in bold letters. “I called earlier to place it on hold.”
With an irritated sigh, the man snatched the paper from Colt’s hand. “I’ll be right back.” Clearly put out, he ducked into the back room, casting one last glance over his shoulder at the TV before disappearing from view.
As Colt waited, he held his breath, nauseated by the unpleasant combination of cigarette smoke and an overly sweet and artificial-smelling air freshener. Penny’s shop, on the other hand, smelled like dried lavender, old books, and unexplored treasures. If he could, he’d wrap himself in the aroma like a comforting blanket.
Recognizing his thoughts had reached romance novel-level cheesiness, he laughed out loud. But his amusement was cut short by the shrill ring of his cell phone. His mind still lingering on Penny, Colt answered without checking the caller ID.
“Finally! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days.” His friend’s irritation echoed through the speakers.
“Sorry, Bryce. I’ve been meaning to call. But I needed some time to think over your offer.”
“What’s there to think about? You’ve been begging me for this job for years.”
Colt winced, guilt weighing on his heart. The new scuba diving operationhadbeen his idea. Which would make his next words all the more difficult. “I know, and I’m really sorry to do this, but—”
Bryce groaned so loud Colt yanked the phone away from his ear.
“What happened? Don’t tell me your girl vetoed the idea. The Colt I know wouldn’t let a woman stand in the way of such a great opportunity.”
“That’s the thing, Bryce. She’s not standing in the way.”
His friend snorted in disbelief.
“I’m serious. It’s not like that. She simply… presented a more appealing opportunity.”
Silence filled the speaker for a long moment before Bryce answered, “She must be pretty special, then.”
“She is,” Colt said with conviction.
