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Warren’s smile lit up the room. “Alright. Well, let me take some pictures, check if my client is interested, and I’ll get you some comps. I should be able to figure out a fair price for the building by Friday, at the latest.”
I showed Warren around and left him to take pictures while I resumed my post at the front door. Despite still being in the planning stage, the deal had fell into place with such ease that I couldn’t help feeling like fate had brought it about.
Maybe this was meant to happen.
“I think I have everything I need. I’ll call you later this week after I talk to my client and I have some suitable comps for you,” Warren said as he breezed back through the shop. “Hey, are you still doing that Singles Social Club at Bob’s?”
I nodded. “Yep. Every Wednesday.”
Originally a get together for the single members of the greater Franklin Notch community, the rapid coupling of seemingly everyone had turned the weekly gathering into strictly a social club. I didn’t mention that part, though.
He pulled out his phone. “Can you share this with the group? The Chamber of Commerce is putting on a speed dating event. I know you’re seeing someone but—”
“Oh, actually, we just broke up.” The admission slipped out of my mouth, like I would somehow betray Ben if I said Chase and I were still dating.
“Oh,” Warren looked up from his phone, studying my face for my reaction. “Well, sorry about that.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“So, I’ll see you there, then? It’s Saturday at the Hops and Barrel.”
“Um…” I hesitated, not really sure what to say. I hadn’t talked to Ben about what was going on between us. I certainly wasn’t about to tell Warren.
“You have to come, as a local business owner and all.”
“Are you going?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I planned it.”
Sighing heavily, I pulled my phone from my pocket, opening up the invitation. The pink hearts littered the background of the flier and a list of sponsors covered the bottom half.
“I could really use some more participants. I want this to be big. Huge.”
I swayed on my feet, eyes moving between the flier and Warren’s expectant smile. “How can I say no to that?”
* * *
The lunch crowd at the diner had reached fever pitch, but Ben and I somehow snagged a booth in the back. The clatter of silverware and loud conversations made me lean across the booth to be heard.
“Fate, Benny.”
He snorted, placing his arm over the back of the booth. “Fate?”
“Fate. I was sitting in the shop, bored out of my mind—”
“And Warren stopped in to say hi? That’s fate?”
“No,” I groaned, trying to collect my thoughts into a coherent narrative. “But he was looking for a shop with kitchen hookups and the thrift store has them.”
“Any chance he had that information and was just subtly probing whether you wanted to sell?”
On reflection, that actually sounded plausible. I shook my head. “Okay, fine. Maybe not fate, but a sign?”
Ben took a sip of his coffee. “A sign of what?”
“A sign of what I should be doing. Where I’m going.”
“And that’s speed dating?”
