Page 15 of Flirting with Forever

They’d both sprung at the chance like hyenas on a limping gazelle. As a member of the chronically single club, Mary had learned that if there was one thing that happily coupled people could never resist, it was playing on the dating apps of their single friends.

“Just let yourselves in upstairs, order some tacos, make some margaritas in my new blender, and I’ll be up in a couple hours when I close up the shop.”

“Yeah, right,” Fin scoffed, resting half of her beautiful face on her closed fist and making her cheek stretch. “No woman left behind. We’ll hang here until closing time.”

“Here, here,” Via called from the ground. “But my feet have swollen from a week of hell at work, and I can’t get my heels back on. So, I’m just going to participate from down here.”

The bell on the door rang and Mary looked up. But it was just a late-night shopper in a long silk scarf, who seemed to be browsing, though Mary would bet a hundred bucks that the woman had already picked out whatever she was there to buy on the website.

Right on the woman’s heels, though, happened to be Estrella. Her face brightened when she saw Mary. “Mary! I didn’t expect to see you here on a Friday night. I thought for sure it would be Sandra.”

“She didn’t show up for her shift,” Mary said gloomily. “What can I do you for, Estrella?”

“Fin, my love,” Estrella greeted her before she turned back to Mary. “I’m just here to drop off those picture frames I told you about.” Estrella held out a tote bag to Mary and grinned over the counter at Via. “I didn’t realize you had a stowaway back there.”

“Hi, Estrella,” Via said with a big grin on her face. “We’re supposed to be having a girls’ night where I’d ideally be draped across Mary’s couch, but I’m settling for the floor until Sandra gets here.”

“I’m sorry your girls’ night is ruined.”

“Oh, it’ll still be fun. Let’s order the tacos now and eat them behind the register while we hide from customers,” Fin said with a little grin on her face.

The one customer in the shop sniffed and didn’t smile from where she stood comparing the embroidery on two separate pillows.

“You wanted tacos from Ish, right?” Mary asked, absently watching the snooty customer. “They don’t deliver, unfortunately. But Rocko’s does.”

“Rocko’s?” Via piped up from below. “No! I refuse! I got food poisoning from there once. I’m on a Rocko’s strike.”

“Ish is that place down by Borough Hall, right?” Estrella asked.

“Yup.”

“Oh, they’ll deliver to me.” Estrella had a glint in her eye that Mary couldn’t quite interpret.

“You’ve got the magic touch?” Fin asked with a wry expression on her face.

“Let’s just say I’ve got connections all over this city.” Estrella wasn’t doing aGodfatherimpression, but Mary felt she might as well have been.

They told Estrella their order and then Mary worked her own particular brand of magic on the customer. She could clock what kind of shopper a person was from a mile away. And she knew that this particular lady was not one who wanted to interact with the sales staff. But she also knew that once she’d arrived at the shop, she’d started second-guessing which of the side lamps she actually wanted to purchase.

Mary made some subtle changes to the lighting in the store and decided that now was the perfect time to unpack those afghans that an artisan in Boulder had finally shipped to her. Their tones were deep and rich, not her usual summer decor, but they would set off the ruby lighting of those lamps and help make her sale, she predicted. And sure enough, not ten minutes after she’d draped one of those afghans over the armchair next to where those lamps were sold, Mary was ringing up and carefully wrapping the five-hundred-dollar purchase.

Not too bad for a Friday night. If it weren’t for the aching cavern in her belly where food should be, she’d almost be glad that Sandra hadn’t shown up for work. The girl was as likely to people-watch in the picture window as she was to actually try to sell anything.

Once the woman left, Mary briskly folded up the afghans again and readjusted the lighting.

“Didn’t you just set those out, Mary?” Via asked.

“Our sly Ms. Trace did that just to make a sale,” Fin observed, never missing a trick. “You must have known how those colors would perfectly offset the lamps?”

“Mary’s mother didn’t raise no fool,” Estrella called from where she leaned against the counter.

Mary laughed, but that simple turn of phrase made something ancient twist a quarter turn inside of her gut. Because according to Mary’s mother, she had, in fact, raised a fool. An aging, single fool who was going to wake up one day soon and realize that she’d prioritized her life in the wrong direction.

The thought threatened to sour the good mood she’d been brewing, her blood still thrumming from the sale, two of her good friends ready and raring to go for a girls’ night. Mary smiled absently and hefted the box of afghans back into the storeroom, where they’d wait until fall, when the colors were more appropriate.

She heard the bell on the door jingle and Via’s faint cry of “Tacos!” Smiling, she emerged from the room. But that smile immediately quirked into a look of confused curiosity.

“John?”

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