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"Becca at the post office tried to go out with him for years, but I think he's waiting for that Jones girl—waiting till she gets older."
"Oh, I know who you're talking about," the customer said. "I know Becca. She's sweet."
"Yeah, the little girl, Corey, she was homeschooled. They lived out in the woods for all these years, and then one day, they moved into that store down the street," Paul's wife said. "I knew they were making jewelry years ago because they have a shipping deal through Becca. She gets her hair cut here. She likes the girl, but I think she's always had a thing for John. I know those women send out multiple packages every day, dozens.They used to do it from their house. I never saw any of their jewelry until they moved into that store."
"I've never been in there, but I want to," the customer said. "My sister has the moose necklace, and I see other people with their stuff."
Owen just listened to all that Paul's wife had to say. He had about a hundred more questions about Corey, but he didn’t ask any of them.
Chapter 2
Corey Jones
I had dabbled in writing. It was nothing serious. I had always kept a journal, and sometimes, my journaling would take the form of a story. I had written some poetry, too, but I loved to make up short stories that were basically good things that theoretically could happen to me. It was never anything as lengthy as a novel, but sometimes I would write stories as my journal entries. Instead of writing about my actual life, which was often quite boring, I wrote about a life I made up.
When we first moved into that store in Philipsburg, I had written a scene in my journal where a handsome gentleman came into the store and swept me off my feet. We fell in love at first sight.
I had fantasized about things like that. I thought about my future husband, and I had imagined he would be someone stunning and gorgeous—some stranger who was just passing through town.
But the truth was far less glamorous. There were no stunning gentlemen. The town was just too small. Stanley hated me going to the store by myself, but he had gotten too old and frail to stop me. He wanted me to shut down the operation and move my workspace back to the house where we used to have it, butI enjoyed driving to Philipsburg every day. I also liked having a life, even if no one came in and I only saw them through the window… at least I was seeing someone besides my mom, Stanley, and John.
I was homeschooled and grew up in the woods. I had gone years of my life seeing only these three people. My life was still relatively quiet, but going to Philipsburg every day gave me something to look forward to.
Also, I had met an unbelievably attractive man yesterday during my trip to town. It was like he was a scene right out of my journal. His name was Owen, and he had come into the store and bought two gold pendants, a chain, and some earrings—a lot of gold jewelry. He just kept saying, "I'll take that one."
I added everything up, and he didn't flinch. It was an unusual sale for us since so much of our business was working with less expensive metals.
Owen stuck out in my mind for that reason, he spent a lot of money. Oh, who was I kidding… he stuck out for other reasons. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen. That wasn't saying a lot since I had seen roughly fifty men total in my whole life, but he was like no other man I had ever seen—not even on television. His face was… I smiled at the thought of how nervous I had been around him. He had asked to see the gold jewelry, and I had to handle it just the right way and brace my hand so I wouldn't shake.
The memory of it made me laugh at myself. I had been thinking about it in my truck on the way to the shop, so I was pleasantly surprised when I found a note from Owen when I got there. It had been slipped under the door, and I opened it knowing who it was from because his name, along with mine, was on the outside.
To: Corey
From: Owen
The words were written on the front of the envelope. I opened it, feeling excited.
Corey,
I was hoping to see you this morning and ask you this in person, but I see that you don't open until ten. I have to work and can't wait until then. I have no cell service in the area where I'm staying, but I check my phone once a day. Here is my number.
It was great meeting you,
Owen
He included his phone number at the bottom of the script.
I read the letter twice. At first, I was excited, thinking he wanted to see me, but the second time reading it, I realized how vague it was. He could be getting in touch because of a simple problem with the jewelry. It was possible that he just wanted to return something.
I gave myself a few minutes to think about it before I composed a text to him. I had a smartphone, but I didn't use it for much. I did know how to send a text even though I hardly ever texted anyone. I typed in his number and composed a message to him.
Me:
Hello, I'm Corey from Betty Lou's jewelry store. I got your message and wanted to get in touch with you. Thanks, Corey
I read it and decided I didn't love it, but there was nothing I could do. My phone dinged a few seconds later, and I smiled as I looked down at it.
Owen:
