Page 58 of The Worst Possible Plan

Dottie made a face. “I just remembered. I think I left my rosemary hair-growth serum warming on the stove again.” She winced. “Last time it dissolved a wooden spoon.”

“Powerful stuff.” I made a mental note to never touch any of Dottie’s hair-growth serums. Not if I didn’t want to end up bald.

Dottie pointed at me. “Eat half. Half the carbs is better than no carbs. You’ll need all the energy you can get today. Trust me.”

I frowned at the emphasis she put on the word trust, like she knew something I didn’t.

I didn’t know why, but at that moment, I flipped open Helen’s binder and pulled out Captain Competent’s card. Even wrinkled and slightly chewed, I could still make out his number.

His number…

Maybe I should call him? Like for a preventative measure thing? Nah. Knowing what I knew of him, he’d probably already be there by the time I arrived. Checking up on me… watching me… staring at my lips…

My brain really needed to stop replaying that moment. It refused to let it go.

Still, I liked it. I liked it a lot.

In a blur, a hand moved in front of me and snatched up the business card.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” said a woman’s voice. Only one woman in town who could make eight words sound simultaneously scandalized and delighted.

I turned in my seat to see Lola, dressed in a mini red dress, red pumps, and matching lipstick. It was still very early in the morning, yet somehow she’d already achieved the level of glamorous most people needed a professional stylist and excellent lighting to accomplish. I wasn’t convinced she experienced mornings the same way the rest of humanity did.

“It’s just a business card,” I told her, trying to sound matter-of-fact but failing miserably.

Lola cocked a brow. “Oh, darling, I don’t think so. Why is it all wrinkled?” She looked at me. “What have you been doing with it?” The smile spreading across her face suggested she’d already imagined at least twelve inappropriate answers.

“Don’t be gross.” I snatched it back. “A goat might have nibbled it a bit.” I pointed the card at her. “That sentence sounded completely normal yesterday.”

Lola’s eyes widened with theatrical delight. Her entire face lit up the way normal people reacted to winning vacations or finding twenty dollars in an old coat pocket.

“A goat?” She pressed one hand dramatically against her chest. “That’s somehow even sexier.”

“No, it’s not.” What the hell was wrong with her?

“It is,” said Lola. “Nothing says forbidden romance like a sheriff’s business card that’s survived an attack by livestock.”

My insides did a little flip. “There is no romance.”

Lola sighed dreamily. “Broad shoulders. Nice smile. Calm voice.” She fanned herself with a paper napkin. “The sort of man who could tell you to renew your driver’s license and somehow make it sound indecent.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I’d probably renew it twice. More like three times.”

I nearly inhaled my coffee. “Why is this happening to me?” I coughed into my mug.

“What?” Lola looked innocent. “I’m appreciating public service. There’s no harm in that.”

“He is single, you know,” added Dottie, her eyes on me.

I set down my mug. “How do you know that?” I hated how interested my voice sounded.

Dottie shrugged. “It’s Maplewood Falls.”

That explained everything. Which was both reassuring and deeply unsettling.

Lola nodded solemnly. “We know who’s sleeping with the pool boy and who’s sleeping with the gardener in this town.” She beamed. “And it’s not me.”

“And who’s been borrowing flowers from the town planters,” added Dottie.

I looked from one woman to the other. “That’s actually a little creepy.”