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It was a point now of really figuring out what that was.

And… doing it.

“Dacia and Pen will be happy to know you called. They’ve been asking every other day. You do have their numbers, right?”

I sighed. “Yeah. I do.”

“Just making sure. Since I asked them both to give you space to make first contact, and… I dunno, talk? Be friends?”

I let out another sigh. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Maybe if they didn’t remind me so much of what I’m trying to get away from…

“Don’t let me pressure you,” Alicia insisted. “Just… remember that you’re not as alone as you might feel. Or rather… you don’t have to be.”

“I hear you.”

“That’s all I ask.”

We said our goodbyes from there, and I got off the phone… feeling good that I’d called. Was I going to call or text Penelope or Dacia, both of whom I’d been at theGardenwith?

No.

At least, not today.

But itwascomforting to be reminded that I had the option.

I spent some time cleaning, and researching more about this whole candle thing, and obsessively tracking my supply orders. Finally, once an acceptable hour for it had been reached, I donned someactualclothes and made my way across the street to the coffee house for the tea I’d taken to getting every morning.

Even though I should probably know better than to form a routine.

My lack of sleep had caught up with me, and I needed a remedy for that.

The weather was much improved over what it had been for the last week or so. The rain had finally broken, giving way to beautiful sunny weather that had people out breathing it all in – including, apparently, my neighbors.

“You must be the lil’ cute weirdo Keem was telling me about,” I heard shouted at me, as soon as I stepped from underneath the awning.

Shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand, I peered around until a raucous chuckle drew my attention upward, to the balcony above the store front next to mine, where a fair-skinned man was sitting, shirtless, cocktail in hand.

It’s not even seven in the morning yet.

“Um… I guess so?” I answered, making a snap decision to actually follow Alicia’s advice and try to engage people more.

And since I did know who “Keem” was.

I’d met him pretty shortly after moving in – inevitable, since he owned the storefront directly next to me – an atelier and styling service. I knew from personal experience that could go one of only two ways – men who cared about clothes were either insufferable orgreat, no in-between.

Luckily, Keem seemed great.

I could only guess that the shirtless, light-skinned man of obvious leisure on the balcony was the husband he’d mentioned when he introduced himself.

Carlos.

“Nothing wrong with being weird – these regular motherfuckers are boring,” he called down to me, then took another sip of his drink. While I watched, he sat forward, lowering his shades to peer at me. “He was right. You’re gorgeous. You’re not wasting that face and bodynotbeing somebody’s sugar baby, are you?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “As a matter of fact, Iamwasting this face and body on exactly that.”

“Mmm,” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “Damn shame. If I looked like you, I wouldn’t pay for shiiiiit.”

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