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“Okay, but this is delicious,” Bia said, giggling. “You get eye candy at the store!”

Lucy frowned. “No, it isn’t. He’s the worst. It’s hard to find someone hot when he’s criticizing my outfit.”

Bia’s gasp filled Lucy’s ears. “Ew! He did that? Give me his name, I’ll bury him. One of our MDs is getting investigated for fraud anyway, I’ll get this man attached no problem.”

Lucy laughed. She felt better, talking with Bia. “It’s so weird to me that he’s here now,” Lucy continued. “After all these years! And he was acting so weird around Charles, like he’d never been in any relationship with a person before. I get that they haven’t seen each other in forever, but he was still so … stiff.”

“You sound suspicious,” Bia said, laughing.

“I am suspicious! What if he’s just here for the bookstore?” Lucy asked. “It is a profitable business, you know. And he was walking around as if he owned the place.”

“Why don’t you talk to Charles, then?” Bia asked. “I’m sure he’d send Grayson away if he knew you were worried.”

“I thought about it, but it would break Charles’s heart,” Lucy said. “He really believes Grayson is here because he’s worried for his grandfather. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“Well, maybe we need to do some research,” Bia suggested. “Have you tried looking him up?”

“Wait, that’s so smart.” Lucy perked up. “No, I haven’t yet, but I will do that ASAP.”

Bia laughed. “Okay, tell me what you find. Also send me his name; I’ll try and do some research, too.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Lucy said. “We probably won’t find anything, but I doubt he’ll last that long, anyway.”

She would make sure of it.

“If you say so,” Bia sang.

Lucy waved a hand. “In the meantime, I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lucy

When Lucy arrived on Main Street in Little Brook the next morning at nine o’clock, she was in a decidedly better mood. The sun was shining against the colorful storefronts, making the blue, yellow, and pink pop as though they were freshly painted.

Charles would be back at Crawley Books today. He had sent her a text this morning to let her know he was stable and was getting discharged that afternoon.

All would be well. Feeling bright as the sun shining down above her, Lucy stepped out of her car, bracing against the cold morning wind. She looked up and waved at Simone through the clear windows of Pilates Club, the local Pilates studio that was next door to Crawley Books. (The women of Long Island loved their Pilates.)

A Black woman in her mid-fifties, Simone wore a matching legging and tank set and stood behind the counter in the studio. When she saw Lucy, Simone quickly grabbed her coat, slipping it on and coming outside to greet her with a smile.

“Girl, where have you been?” Simone asked. Lucy abandoned her car with the door still open and hurried over to give Simone a hug. “Last few days you’ve been walking with your head down.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Lucy said, squeezing Simone’s hand. “With Charles in the hospital, I’ve just been so out of it.”

“How’s he doing?” Simone asked. “Michael’s been missing him at poker.”

Lucy laughed. Simone’s husband, Michael, was part of Charles’s game group in town, along with three other old men: Francisco from the Mexican restaurant next door, William from the pub across the street, and Patrick from the convenience store next to the pub. It was nice to have a little community.

“Tell Michael Charles’ll be back soon,” Lucy said. “He’s getting discharged today. I made his favorite apple fritters— Oh! Let me get you one!”

Lucy rushed to her car and grabbed a napkin, pulling an apple fritter out for Simone.

“You spoil me,” Simone said, taking the dessert from Lucy’s hand. It was perfectly glazed, and she took a big bite, making a soft sound of enjoyment. “Delicious. I’m gonna have to do an extra session after this, but it’ll be worth it.”

“It’s winter!” Lucy said, waving a hand. “Calories don’t count in winter.”

“Is that how it works?” Simone laughed. “And speaking of delicious, who was that fine man I saw you leaving with yesterday?”