Page 149 of Back in the Saddle

I thought about the sleeveless, black lace dress with the deep, to-the-midriff vee bodice and flirty, understated ruffles at the shoulders and on the long skirt that I scored on sale to go to a friend’s black-and-white wedding. Only to have said friend call off her wedding three weeks before it was supposed to happen because she figured out she was more in love with the best man than her groom.

An aside: I was no longer her friend. That wasn’t the first time she was a total flake in the worst way. I’d liked her fiancé, he was a good guy, so after that, I was out.

Another aside: since then, I’d heard she eloped with the best man.

The last aside: their marriage lasted four months before the new groom filed for divorce.

Wait, no, this was the last aside: the other last aside was no surprise to anyone.

To answer Eric’s question, I simply said, “I think you’ll like it.”

“I bet I will,” he murmured while getting out a sauté pan.

I set the flier down and reached for the box.

There was an envelope resting on top that had my name on it in handwriting I’d never seen before.

I slit open the envelope and pulled out a piece of notepaper. I unfolded it. It was from one of those freebie notepads you got at hotels.

And it said,

Jess,

Don’t give up on him.

He’s working through some shit.

He took it too far. You were right to be pissed.

I didn’t know he was going to go there with you.

I’ll give him time and have a word.

Sorry about the hood and zip ties.

Also the kidnapping.

Be careful out there,

~~Javi

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

“What is it?” Eric asked.

I handed him the note, folded open the unsecured flaps on the box and peered in.

I couldn’t help it.

I gasped.

“What?” Eric was right at my side, peering in with me. “Well…damn,” he muttered.

Damn was an understatement.

With reverence, I unearthed the sleek, stainless-steel cocktail shaker with copper accents. Then I pulled out the set of bar tools in their stand that included muddler, double jigger, tongs, spoon, bottle opener and strainer. More stainless-steel with copper accents, but the muddler was a phenomenal, polished walnut and had a marble tip.

“This is insane,” I whispered reverently.

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