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Why did I run like that? He was just saying a cordial goodbye, like his grandma taught him.I’ve been going over it in my mind, but that rarely gets me an answer. Sometimes, it’s easier just to consider that it’s something nonsensical—a knee-jerk reaction that will pass. Besides,mygrandma would’ve been thrilled to hear that chivalry was still alive in some corners of the world. I suppose I’ve gotten so accustomed to sleazy pick-up lines, catcalling, and toe-curling schmooze that I forgot manners even existed.
“Is this the end of the line for your strut of pride?” a voice calls out, drawing my gaze up the street, where three beauties walk side-by-side, their arms linked as they stride through the shimmering air.
I get up and dust off the seat of my skirt. “My what?”
If it wasn’t for the three muses, as I like to call them, I doubt the Chevalet would be anything close to what it has become. Daisy, Jada, and Serena have been my lifeline more often than I care to admit, and though I’m supposed to be their superior, they’re more like family to me: the three daughters that, at my age, I couldn’t possibly have had.
“We don’t call them walks of shame anymore, Boss,” Serena explains, flashing a wink. Theydocall me “boss,” but it’s more of a nickname.
“Okay… and why am I doing a walk of shame or a strut of pride?” I notice the purse slung over Jada’s shoulder and my confusion deepens. It’s identical to mine. She’d cooed over it a few months ago, after Cybil gifted it to me for reasons that are still unknown, but I know I don’t pay Jada enough for her to have bought one of her own. I wish I did, but running a gallery is more expensive than you’d think.
“We met your fancy-man,” Daisy interjects, grinning and hopping up and down.
Serena nods eagerly. “At first, we thought he was some creep trying to hit on Jada, but then he explained that he knows you, that you left his place this morning and forgot to take your purse with you, but that he’d promised to drop it off on his way to the office.”
“Call us your go-betweens.” Jada slipped the purse off her shoulder and clasped it to her chest. “You picked a good one, Boss.Verygood-looking and a real nice car, too. A little strange, but in a cute way.”
Daisy nods and plops herself down on the front steps, where the other two soon join her, all three staring up at me like I’m on trial. “How come you didn’t tell us you were seeing someone?”
“Because I’m not,” I reply, taking back my purse. My mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to catch up with what the girls are saying.
“Is that why you left early on Friday night?” Serena seems determined not to listen to me. “Did you spend the whole weekend with him?”
Daisy gasps. “Did you introduce him to Lyndsey and Grace? Is it thatserious already? Youhaveto make him come to the gallery, so we can all cast our judgments on him. He seems nice, though. Good first impression.”
“And he got you something from your favorite place,” Jada sighs dreamily, presenting a pretty cake box, cream-colored and decorated with filigree vines and fastened with a golden ribbon. I know where it’s from, I just don’t know how or why. “Said it was an apology,” Jada continues. “Also said you’d understand what he meant.”
Serena wraps her arms around her bent knees, leaning forward with a stern look in her eyes. “So, what did he do wrong—that’s what I want to know? Do you want us to put his email on a ton of mailing lists, so he gets spammed twenty-four-seven? Ooh, or maybe we could swing by his office, if you know where it is, and glare at him from the street? Or is it something you can forgive him for? He reallydidseem nice, once we realized he knew you.”
I shake my head, hoping my thoughts will disperse and somehow jumble back together. “I’m sorry,whogot me this andwhohad my purse?”
“Rowan,” Daisy replies, waggling her eyebrows. “Look at you, pretending you don’t already know.”
It’s too soon to hear that name again. My cheek is still warm where he kissed it. My chest begins to seize, like fingers are clawing through the past toward me, sliding around my lungs to grip them tight, wringing them dry of any breath. It’s too hot, but I’m shivering, and all because of one name, one encounter, one act of old-fashioned chivalry that has my brain in a tailspin, the crash imminent with no chance of survivors.
“Are you okay, Boss?” It’s Jada, getting up and coming to my side, putting an arm around my shoulders. “You don’t look too good.”
Serena flanks me on the other side. “Did we misunderstand? Is this someone you’re trying to avoid?”
The three girls look guiltily at one another, but I don’t know how to explain. Rowanissomeone I’m trying to avoid, just not for the reasons that are probably swirling around in their heads.
“I haven’t been feeling well all morning,” I say, extricating myself from their concerned arms. “Thanks for getting the purse back, or we’d have been spending half the day out here in the sunshine, getting nothing done.”
Daisy chuckles nervously. “Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”
“Nor to me,” I admit, relaxing as the sunlight tingles my skin and the scent of sweet licorice drifts down the street toward me, from the white blooms of the potted magnolia trees that spill over the blue-painted balustrade of a nearby balcony.
“So, who is he, or do you not want to talk about it?” Serena asks, putting up her hands in mock surrender. “It’s totally fine if you don’t. You know what we’re like—our own love lives are in shambles, so we hoped you had some good news.”
Jada nods. “We’ve got to live vicariously throughsomeone.”
I turn to the arched wooden door of the gallery and fumble for the keys, while trying to balance whatever is in the cake box. I take a deep breath to gather myself. I’m not exactly old, and in the two years I’ve been running this place, there’s been no romantic gossip for the girls to indulge in. Not from me, anyway, though they usually have plenty to lament about. They know about Ben, to a degree, but they’re like the rest of the people closest to me—they’re all eagerly waiting for me to move on, so they can stop treading on eggshells. Even Cybil has started to gently enquire about me dating.
“He’s Lyndsey’s brother,” I say, at last, opening the door wide. The hinges squeal, and I make a mental note to oil them. “And he’s not any kind of… romantic figure. You must’ve gotten your wires crossed. I woke up alone, in my own apartment, as always.”
Jada slips through the door after me, cutting me off as I step into the cozy space that smells of sandalwood and Elmer’s glue, of all things. “But why did he say you left your purse at his place?”
They’re not going to let this go, and if they don’t, I might actually have to put my boss hat on for once.
