Page 63 of The Fall Back Plan
“Oh, I’m not going to try. We’re going to shut her up. She gave our store two stars last year and said we’re ‘unskilled jewelers who lack an eye for quality,’ but that’s because my dad graded the diamond in her wedding ring and told her it was a cubic zirconia. Which itwas,” she says with so much satisfaction that Ry laughs, and I have to smile. “I emailed her and let her know she could take the review down or we’d post an owner response to her review explaining she was mad because her husband lied to her about the ring he bought her.”
“Dang, girl,” Ry says. “Remind me never to cross you.”
“I’ve survived two toddlers,” she says. “You think I’m scared of her?”
“I assume the ‘her’ is Sloane?” When Sophie nods, I say, “We don’t know that this was her for sure.”
“Don’t we, though?” she asks.
I sigh. Of course it was. She doesn’t forgive or forget, which sounds a lot like a person I see in the mirror every morning. I’m thinking it’s not such a good look.
“It’ll be fine,” I say. “This is a speed bump. The sheriff’s office is closing in on a suspect, and since it’s not me, when they catch the person, all this can stop.”
“The sheriff’s office meaning your very special friend, the extremely fine Lucas Cole?” Sophie asks.
“I mean the sheriff’s office. Period.”
Ry smiles. “Then why are you blushing?”
“Quiet,” I grumble. “I’m not.”
“Well, I want to launch trivia night,” Sophie says. “I’ve been stockpiling my questions, and I want to start getting the word outnow. We should ramp up, not down.”
I don’t think this is a good idea. My gut instinct combined with experience growing up in Harvest Hollow says it won’t work. But I haven’t had a lot of people sling a bat over their shoulder and fall into step beside me like Sophie is clearly determined to do. And I’m not going to say no.
“Sounds good,” I say. “Let’s do it. Let me know what you need.”
“I need you to check with Bonnie and see if she’s good with cooking for it. It’ll be sooner than she planned.”
“I’ll talk to her,” I say. “What else?”
“I’ll let you know. I’m going to start pulling this together.” She pauses at the exit to thrust her fist in the air and yell, “Goonies never say die!”
Ry responds with his upraised fist, and I finally laugh. “Get out of here, crazy.”
She leaves with a grin.
Despite Sophie’s bravado, it’s an even slower Wednesday than usual.
I try to be positive about Thursday, but after anemic afternoon sales, Ry tells me to go home. “I know you have a scary-good poker face. Go find it, then come back with it tomorrow. Let’s not do any real worrying until we see how the weekend goes.”
“You’re right.” I rub at the space between my eyebrows where my “worry brackets” show up. “I need to think good thoughts. If you can hold it down here, I’ll be back tomorrow.”
He shoos me with a cheerful “Get out of here.”
It’s dinner time, the normal lull for us, one that we’re hoping to bolster when dinner service starts, but things feel less certain than they did last week. I text Lucas to see if it’s okay for me to stop by and visit Brooklyn because I don’t want to interrupt their supper. He tells me to come on over.
Am I hoping he’ll remember he has an update on the case to give me that has slipped his mind until now? Maybe. I really need this to be fixed.
I pull into his driveway—his grandfather’s driveway?—the Cole driveway and park. Today I’m in a pintuck-ruffle short-sleeved blouse in a soft peach color with jeans and my booties. Did I pick it because it makes me feel extra feminine and I sort of thought I might see Lucas today?
It’s a nice shirt. That’s all. Really.
But I pull on my long cardigan and tie it around the waist to remind myself that I’m not trying to look pretty for Lucas. There. Now I’m dressed comfortably for myfriend.
Lucas opens the door before I can even knock. “Hey,” he says, smiling at me and holding out his other arm for afriendlyhug.
Does it feel way warmer than a Ry hug? Does it feel way shorter than I want it to?
