Page 33 of Call It Serendipity

“To write an article?” she teases.

I bump her with my shoulder. “That was some quick thinking on your part.”

“I know. But honestly, while I’m still against the hotel being built…” Claire shoots me a hesitant look as we stop at the intersection for our street. “I think the other night, when he dropped by, it was nice seeing you happy like that.”

“I’m happy.” My words sound hollow, even to me. What I am is distracted, preoccupied, and wrapped in self doubt—ever since Whitcombe Gallery came into my life.

“Sure, we have our moments when we can get you out of that head of yours,” she says gently, giving me a little nudge with her elbow, “but the way you’ve seemed since he came to town, it’s different.”

I’ve felt different, but I hadn’t realized anyone else noticed.

“All I’m saying is, keep an open mind about what this could be.”

The crosswalk signal blinks to the pedestrian figure, prompting us forward. Then with only a few steps until reaching the other side, I feel Claire’s hand wrap around my arm, her nails digging into my flesh through my sweater.

“Or I take that back and instead demand that we run his ass out of town.” Her words are laced with venom as she drags me to hide behind the SUV parked nearest us. “Who does he think he is, two timing you?”

I follow her line of sight to the next intersection down, where Jake is coming from Monroe with a beautiful blonde woman. She looks big city pretty. Perfectly manicured, and model-like thin. Not to mention those long legs of hers strutting confidently alongside him.

A mammoth lump lodges in my throat, and I fight it down to point out, “He’s not two timing me because as we were just talking about, he’s not dating me.”

“Lucy, stop being so logical and admit that at the very least, he’s been extremely flirtatious and leading.”

I watch the glamorous woman throw her head back in laughter, and can’t deny the bile rising in my throat. “We don’t even know who she is,” I mumble, clocking the designer handbag dangling from her arm that probably cost as much as my Subaru.

She doesn’t look like the type he belongs with. Not with his old truck and casual attire and indifference about a slobber covered tennis ball being pressed in his hand from an eager dog.

“We can go find out.”

“No,” I say quickly. “Let’s just go home.”

Claire lets me lead her on our way until they’re out of sight. “We’re cancelling his invite for Pumpkinville, though, right?”

“No, we aren’t. But we will double down on the mission.”

“Fine, but I’m chucking a pumpkin at his stupid handsome face tonight.”

A surprised laugh escapes me. “As long as you don’t make it obvious that you’re aiming for his stupid handsome face.”

“Deal.”

She loops her arm through mine, and I drop my head to her shoulder as we walk towards home. There is a smile on my face, and I want to say, see, Jake isn’t the only one that makes me happy.

It’s half past four when the phone rings. “I’ve got it,” I call out to wherever Claire’s at upstairs—her closet or mine.

With a few quick steps, I bound into the kitchen and grab the handset from the wall. “Hello?”

“Lucy? It’s Jake. I hope it’s okay I looked your number up in the book.”

His voice still has its usual effect on me, causing warmth to swirl in my core despite the knot that I’ve been carrying around all day.

“That’s what the book’s for,” I reply, praying that I sound normal enough.

His chuckle carries over the line, and I lean against the wall and let myself indulge in it without an audience for once.

“True enough, but I’m glad I caught you before I headed your way. I was wondering if maybe my sister could join us tonight?”

“Your sister?” My voice hikes up in surprise.