Page 11 of Just Best Friends

“What am I going to do about this place, then?” I stood up, losing all interest in the food and only taking my coffee on a walk around the small break room.

The antique shop had been my grandmother’s dream. A place to sell all the treasures she found for someone else to enjoy. She enjoyed walking down a bustling downtown area. She liked being a part of the community.

I did, too, of course, though not in the same way as my grandmother. Or Mrs. Evans, for that matter.

I had a clothing line and I was happy enough sewing handmade garb for re-enactors and retro wear for people who wanted sustainable and trendy clothing.

I didn’t need a storefront. Most of my business was online, anyway.

“You should sell it,” Mrs. Evans said primly, popping a small bite of blueberry donut into her mouth.

Sell it? I had never considered selling the place. I kept the business as it was when my grandmother ran it, giving Mrs. Evans full rein to buy and sell as needed.

“Do you think grandma would have minded?” I asked.

She shook her hand at me. “Of course not. This place was her dream, not yours. You’ve kept her memory alive in other ways. Just try to do something fun after it’s sold. You’re so young. You could use more fun in your life.”

“I have plenty of fun,” I assured her.

And I did.

Didn’t I?

Sure, I crammed it in between work, but I made more time for it than most people.

“Well, I appreciate the breakfast, even though I ruined it with my retirement.” She folded up what remained of her donut into a tiny packet with her napkin, tucking it away for later.

“You didn’t ruin it. I’m glad to hear that you’re finally going to spend more time with your kids. I just wish you would have let me help you pack.”

She moved out of a sprawling four-bedroom farmhouse years ago. Even after downsizing, she packed her current one-bedroom apartment with mementos.

She waved a hand. “Sheila insisted on hiring movers. Most of it’s going into storage, anyway. Or in the trash. She was pretty vague about the details. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s torching the apartment after I move.”

I smiled. “Probably. Anything you want me to store until you come back?”

Mrs. Evans patted me on the shoulder. “You’re a good girl, Theodora.” She shuffled back to her place behind the till.

I stood in the break room, holding back tears and wondering if I should sell the store. If I could.

But maybe this was just another piece of the puzzle slotting into place. The antique store had caused me more headaches than the clothing store, and I had been pouring money into the place for years.

Maybe Mrs. Evans leaving for Ohio would free my time up for something else.

Someone else.

Chase?

We'd planned to meet in Concord this weekend, and I wanted to make it special. The gloom over Mrs. Evan's announcement looming over me, I pulled out my phone and tapped on the reservation for confirmation.

Mount Pierce Resort Valentine's Day Weekend was a getaway as luxurious as it was expensive. I winced at the purchase price, punching in my credit card and quickly closing the computer before I regretted that decision.

Now, with the charge safely on my credit card balance where it wouldn't hurt me for another month or two, I pulled up the itinerary. Candle lit dinners, fancy cocktails, tasting menus, and exclusive spa treatments. It'd be romantic and relaxing. The perfect place to solidify our relationship.

CHAPTER5

Thea

I pushedmy way out of my antique Buick and adjusted my dress. A little red bodycon number that fit me like a glove and looked phenomenal, even if I could barely breathe.

---