Page 39 of The Fine Art of Faking It
“Budget?” Liz asked, all business. As a flower shop owner, she had her fingers on the pulse of every stupid thing that spouses did to each other.
“Impossible to forgive,” Eden said.
“That’s what I like to hear. I’ll have it ready for you in forty minutes.”
“You’re a gem. A miracle worker. People sing songs about you,” Eden gushed.
“Yep. So how’s it going with Davis?”
Eden drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and came to an abrupt stop at a stop sign. She gritted her teeth and eased through the intersection. “He’s fine. Everything is fine.”
“Such a shame what happened to him,” Liz continued. “He’s the nicest guy.”
“Yeah, he’s peachy,” Eden said dryly.
“Well, I’m gonna get to arranging. See you in forty.” Liz disconnected the call, and Eden cranked up her music. At least Van Morrison wouldn’t insist on telling her how great the man who had dented her teenage heart was. Even if said heart-denter was currently turning over a suite for her. “No!” Eden smacked her steering wheel. She would not allow herself to entertain the idea that Davis Gates might not be the devil incarnate. He was a bad, bad man. And she couldn’t be bought with a half-assed bed linen offering or late night conversations, or her dogs’ obvious affection for him.
Resolve fortified, Eden headed toward Blue Moon.
The universe was working with her today. Eden squeezed into a parking space directly in front of Wilson Abramovich’s jewelry store and hopped out. The damp chill of the November day seeped into her bones, and she envisioned a quiet night by the fire, maybe a hot bath. She’d earn it today. It was days like this that frustrated and energized her. She loved being around people, loved surprising them with things that made their day just a little better. And she would make sure that Forgetful Husband was not only forgiven but revered before he and his wife left tomorrow.
She pulled the glass door open, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
Wilson, the town’s jeweler, was a tidy little man with a halo of gray hair fluffing out under his growing bald spot. He wore a watch on a chain and glasses that constantly slipped down his nose.
“Ah, Eden. How lovely to see you,” he said, rising from the desk with a loop still attached to his glasses. “Oops. Now, I can see you,” he said, swiping the contraption off his head.
“Wilson, I need something that will get a forgetful husband forgiven,” she said, leaning over the display glass at all the sparkly perfection perched on plush pillows and waiting to adorn lucky men and women.
Wilson tapped his chin. “How forgetful was he?”
“Tenth wedding anniversary.”
“Let’s begin with gold and work our way up from there,” he suggested, sweeping an arm toward a case at the front of the store.
Twenty minutes of discerning browsing later, they’d settled on the perfect gift—two, actually. Wilson handed over one of the tiny boxes to an assistant for wrapping and Eden scrawled her signature on the credit card receipt.
“I heard that Davis Gates is staying with you while Calvin’s crew works on his house,” Wilson said. In any other town, it would have been making small talk. But Wilson Abramovich was a member of Blue Moon’s Beautification Committee. Matchmaking was in his blood… and his business. Ninety-nine percent of all engagements in Blue Moon were sealed with a sparkly something from his jewelry store. Wilson was fishing for information.Damn it. She really needed to dig further into that binder.She was on the chapter about laying the groundwork for a solid match. Suggestions included surveilling said couple and watching for flirtatious exchanges and identifying each half’s definition of love.
“Yes,” she said, pasting a smile on her mouth and slipping the unwrapped gift box into her purse. “He’s staying in a guest room.” She put emphasis on “guest room” lest Wilson delusionally believe Davis had moved right into her bed. Davis Gates in her bed. Her brain decided to run with that fantasy and Eden felt her cheeks flush scarlet.
Wilson accepted the wrapped box from his assistant and placed it carefully in a festive gift bag. “I must say, it’s wonderful seeing you step up to offer Davis a place to stay.”
“Because he’s such a great guy?” Eden guessed. The entire town was convinced that Davis was a heart-of-gold sweetie pie with a quick grin and a desire to lend a helping hand. And maybe he was that… to everyone else. But to her, he was a sneaky, cowardly, dog-stealing son of a Gates. Who looked excellent in a suit, even better naked, and was occasionally quite thoughtful. Oh my God. She needed a vacation. Far far away from Davis and his nice ass.
Wilson chuckled under his mustache. “Well, that, of course. But also seeing you take the first step to bury the hatchet in this ridiculous feud is simply wonderful. Blue Moon has long suffered under the bad vibes created by your two families, and seeing it finally come to an end is something to celebrate. People won’t forget how generous you’ve been,” Wilson predicted.
Eden suddenly didn’t feel like stomping her foot so much. In fact, there was a warm flush creeping over her cheeks.
“I’m just doing the neighborly thing,” she mumbled.
Wilson handed over the gift bag. “It won’t go unnoticed,” he predicted, giving a not-so-subtle nod to the two Blue Moon Business of the Year awards on a shelf behind the cash register.
“Um. Thank you… for your help with this and… everything,” Eden said, waving the bag.
“Good luck to your guest,” Wilson called after her as she rushed out.
Eden checked her watch, ignoring the new texts from Layla and Sammy. She had enough time to swing by Farm and Field Fresh, the grocery store. Her personal cupboards were bare. She backed out of her space and drove down Main Street. Even on this gray day, the colorful people of Blue Moon were out in droves. Righteous Subs and Peace of Pizza were doing a brisk early lunch business, and there was a steady flow of customers in and out of Overly Caffeinated on the corner. She turned right on Lavender Street and then headed west on Karma Avenue. Farm and Field Fresh was a large brick building on the edge of town. It was organic and free trade, and it had three entire aisles of vegan and vegetarian foods.
