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“Will you stop pestering her?” a gruff voice said from across the hall. Mr. Petrovski stuck his head out of apartment 306. The old man’s ice-blue eyes looked out from a network of wrinkles. His bushy white-and-silver brows quivered as he frowned.
“I’ll stop bothering her when your ratty mongrel stops trying to diddle Her Majesty,” Mrs. Gordon spat, whirling around faster than Amelia thought she was able. The old woman hobbled across the hall and lifted her cane like she wanted to whack it against the old man’s shins.
“Mongrel! Amongrel! My Winston!” The door slammed just in time for Mrs. Gordon to hit it with her cane, then opened again. “He’d stay away from your beast if she didn’t come to my balcony and start rubbing her rear all over the window. She’s nothing but a two-bit hussy. I wonder where she learnedthat.”
Mrs. Gordon lifted her cane again, and the door closed. She scowled at it for a moment, then straightened, picking a bit of lint off her shirt. She met Amelia’s wide-eyed stare and lifted her chin. “The grain-free version, dear. Don’t forget. It has the yellow label.”
“Got it.” Amelia made a mental note to call maintenance again. She lived in an apartment building constructed in the 1970s that was only a five-minute walk away from Main Street. It was a fantastic location and the rent was cheap, but the building itself was falling apart. That was probably why she’d gotten such a good deal on a two-bed apartment. The elevator had been out of order for three days, and she didn’t want to know what would happen to her feuding neighbors if it went on much longer. They were clearly going stir-crazy, and Mrs. Gordon’s cane packed a wallop, judging by the dent it’d left in Mr. Petrovski’s door.
Grateful for the break—and wanting to get away from the walking stick before Mrs. Gordon decided to do more target practice—Amelia grabbed her purse, locked her door, and headed out into the sunshine. Spring was beautiful in Stirling, but the town welcomed most of its tourists in autumn, when the leaves turned a thousand different jewel shades and painted the landscape with their vibrance. For now, the town was bustling with locals but still relatively quiet.
Amelia stepped onto the sidewalk and nodded to a couple pushing a stroller, then turned left and headed toward town. Smiling to herself, she decided to stretch her legs and enjoy the weather. She did a loop behind the gothic church where Maggie and Emory had been married on Saturday and followed the riverbank to the main bridge that joined both sides of the town. From there, she crossed over and wandered toward Camilla’s bakery. Camilla would be closing up soon, and she’d have almost-stale pastries Amelia could devour.
The houses here were a bit smaller than the further outskirts of town, mostly colonial-style residences with well-kept yards and white-painted window sashes. She paused to admire a flowering tree and waved at the woman pulling weeds in her garden bed, happy that she now worked for herself and had the flexibility to enjoy these moments. It had taken a lot of effort to strike out on her own, but she finally felt like things were coming together with her business and career.
Amelia was good at accomplishing goals. When she put her mind to something, it got done. As the sun warmed her shoulders and the multitude of flowers around her filled her nose with their lovely perfume, she felt a rush of confidence.
How hard could it be to find a partner? Leo had shown her just how easily he turned on the charm. That proved it was a skill, and it was learnable. She wasn’t unlovable, she just hadn’t built the skills to attract a mate. But now, she’d found the perfect teacher. She smiled to herself, tilting her head to listen to a bird twitter.
“Amelia?” Turning toward the voice, Amelia was startled to see Ben approaching at a jog. He must have finished his shift at the bakery, because he was coming from that direction. He grinned at her, pushing a strand of blond hair off his forehead. “Hey.”
“Hi,” she said, and her voice mostly came out normal. That was a relief.
In the sunlight, Ben’s hair glinted, but he didn’t have the kind of otherworldly beauty she’d admired in Leo. His smile widened, and Amelia was surprised to feel only the slightest thump in her chest. She looked down, confused with herself. Where was the rush of emotion? Why wasn’t her tongue suddenly three sizes too big for her mouth?
She felt entirely normal in his presence, which was decidedlynotnormal for her. She’d had a crush on Ben for two and a half years. Why did he suddenly seem so…human?
“Um,” she said, scraping her mind for something to say. Her eyes alighted on his footwear, and she remembered last night’s lesson. “Nice shoes.”
“Oh, these? Thanks! My mom picked them out.” He stuck out his leg and tilted his foot so she could admire his footwear from another angle.
“Your mom still buys your shoes?” Amelia blurted, frowning, then tried to recover by smiling extra wide. “Lucky you! She has great style.”
He nodded, then took a deep breath. “I saw you at The Shed yesterday.”
Her eyes widened. Had he seen her marching toward him and then veering off at the last minute? Oh, no. Oh,no! How mortifying!
But Ben just smiled at her and said, “You were with someone, so I didn’t want to bother you.” He cleared his throat while Amelia tried to process his words, then continued, “Was he… Are you… Was that your boyfriend? He was at the bakery with you the other day too.”
She blinked. “Who, Leo?” She laughed. AsifLeo would deign to be anyone’s boyfriend—least of all hers. “No, not my boyfriend.”
“Oh, good.” Ben smiled wide again.
“Good?” she repeated, increasingly baffled.
“Well, no, I mean…” He huffed, and Amelia was amazed to see someone else fumbling with their words. Was this what she looked like when she spoke to guys? How awkward! Howfascinating. She felt like an anthropologist getting a rare glimpse of heretofore unobserved human behavior: her own, reflected right back at her. Ben recovered by pulling out his phone. “Do you use Signal? I don’t think we’re connected yet.”
Signal was a social media platform that had taken the world by storm. Everyone was on Signal…and Ben was wanting to connect with her there?
“Oh. Sure!” A rush of pleasure swelled in Amelia’s chest as she pulled her own phone out. They exchanged information, and Ben gave her another sweet smile. He waved and walked away, wishing her a nice day.
She clutched her phone to her breast. A million butterflies fluttered in her chest, tugging her lips into a smile. Ben had asked her for her social media! He wanted to connect with her!
That…had never happened before. As soon as Ben was out of sight, she let out a little squeal and did a dance on the spot. Thishadto be a good sign. And Leo was right—all she had to do was tell him he had nice shoes!
This flirting stuff waseasy.After a few days under Leo’s tutelage, she’d be a pro.
Phone still in hand, she let her thumb hover over Camilla’s name…then kept scrolling. Before she could think too hard about it, she found Leo’s number and called him.
