Harris said, “JoJo, I bet we can find something for Uncle Noah in here! Can I look?”
Josie touched the top of his blond head. The swirl of hair at his scalp still made her breath catch, even after all these years. His father had had the exact same whorl. “Sure,” she said. “But what’s the rule?”
“I have to stay in your line of sight.”
She nudged him away from her and he ran off, around the bench, past the Christmas items and toward the men’s section, careful to look back and make sure he could still make eye contact with Josie.
Claudia turned her body and watched him go. When she turned back, her expression was wistful, almost pained. “He’s very sweet. Very smart.”
“Yes,” Josie agreed. “He really is. Mrs. White, please let me do something for you.”
Claudia took off her other heel and handed it to Josie. “Can you make this one match the broken one?”
Josie stared at it for a moment, uncomprehending.
“Please,” Claudia said. “I’ve got to be able to walk back to my car. I can’t do it with one shoe four inches higher than the other.”
Josie would have rolled an ankle in four-inch heels. “This looks expensive.”
Claudia sighed but her easy smile was still in place. “It is, but the other one is already ruined. I’d do it myself but…” She looked around, as if searching for something she could use to break the heel off. Her gaze landed on Josie’s feet. “You’ve got boots on. Maybe…?”
Josie took the shoe from Claudia. Leaning down, she slid the heel under one of her boots.
Harris ran over, a tie in hand. “Look!” he exclaimed. “For Uncle Noah! He wears ties to work sometimes.”
Josie eyed his selection. “I think he would like that.”
With her other foot, she kicked twice, hard, and split the shoe from its heel. Harris’s eyes went cartoon-wide. In a low, shocked voice, he said, “JoJo, you broke Claudia’s shoe.”
Claudia took it from Josie and slid it onto her foot. Then she put on the other one.
“It’s okay, buddy. She gave me permission.” Josie took the tie from Harris. “This can be from you.”
Harris looked to Claudia, who stood up and took a few steps back and forth. Satisfied that she was fine with Josie breaking her shoe, he turned back to Josie. “I’ll go look for something from you!”
“Oh well, I don’t—” Josie started, but he was already off, weaving through the Christmas displays back to the men’s section.
Claudia said, “Shopping for your husband?”
“Yeah. He’s really tough to shop for.” She ran a finger across the tie.
“Many men are,” said Claudia. “What does he like?”
The answer came to her quickly and without thought. “Me.”
Claudia laughed. “That’s very good.”
Josie said, “I didn’t mean that to sound—well, he just—actually, he’s really obsessed with astronomy. I was thinking of getting him a telescope. Taking him up to Cherry Springs state park in the spring. You can see the Milky Way from there, from what I hear.”
“The telescope is great, but the experience is always a better way to go. Time with you under the stars?” She winked at Josie. “What gift could be better?”
Harris returned, a triumphant grin on his face. He held up a box of bandages in the shape of bacon strips. “This is the perfect gift!” he announced. “Uncle Noah loves bacon.”
ONE
JANUARY
An icy drop of rain splashed onto the back of Margot’s neck as she sprinted from her car, across the street, and toward the jewelry store. More drops followed, the sound of the rain going from an uneven patter to a steady roar as she pulled open the door to the shop. A gust of cold January air lifted the edges of her skirt and propelled her inside. Glass display cases formed a square in the center of the store. More glass countertops lined the walls. A white-haired man in a collared shirt stood inside the square helping a couple choose a diamond bracelet. Margot strode past them, her heels clicking against the white tile, and found a young female sales associate near the back of the store. Margot didn’t wait for her to ask if she needed help. Instead, she announced, “I’m here to pick something up for Beau Collins.”
The woman’s fingers tugged lightly at her dark blue turtleneck. She gave a tight smile. “Do you have a receipt?”
“He said he called ahead to make sure you would release the ring to me,” Margot said but she already knew she wasn’t getting the ring without producing the receipt. That was just the kind of day she was having. With a theatrical sigh, Margot plopped her large purse onto the glass counter between them and began riffling through it.
Voice smaller now, the sales associate added, “Sorry. Store policy.”
The vibration of Margot’s phone made her entire bag buzz. The glow of the screen illuminated the inside of the bag. Eve Bowers.
“Of course,” Margot muttered. Literally nothing about this day was going right. She should be sitting at the bar at Sandman’s Grill right now, white zinfandel in hand, chatting up the hot older guy from the TV station she’d been low-key seeing for the last few months. Things were heating up between them. Lately all she could think about were his hands.
“Miss?” said the sales associate.
Ignoring her, Margot sighed again and reached to the bottom of the bag, pressing Ignore. Eve would have to fend for herself. She’d only had one job today: help Claudia set up the anniversary dinner and make sure it was both television- and social media-worthy. How hard was that?
“Just a minute,” Margot snapped, shuffling the contents of her purse once more. Her fingers closed over the crumpled receipt her boss had given her earlier that day. “Here it is!”
She passed it to the sales associate, who used both hands to smooth it out on the glass top. She must have been new because when she saw the price, her eyes widened. She made a quick recovery though, smiling brightly at Margot. “Is this for the Beau Collins on TV? Beau and Claudia Collins?”
Margot suppressed a scream of frustration as her phone buzzed again. Eve Bowers. Ignore. Plastering a smile on her face, she said, “Yes, that’s right! He’s my boss. I’m his personal assistant.”
“I’ve seen their show,” said the sales associate. “It’s fun. My mom is obsessed with their book. She says it saved her and my dad’s marriage.”
Automatically, the words came from Margot’s mouth. Beau’s manager always wanted them to push the podcast with the younger demographic. “They’ve got a podcast, too. You should check it out.”
“Maybe,” mumbled the sales associate. She waved the receipt. “Let me go get this for you.”
She disappeared into a back room. Margot’s phone went off again. Eve Bowers. Plucking it from her purse, she made a noise of frustration loud enough for the other people in the store to hear. Ignoring their stares, she swiped Answer. “What is it?”
Eve’s perpetually sunny voice asked, “Are you there yet?”
Margot’s fingers tightened around the phone. “No, I’m—wait, you’re not at the house? Eve—”