“Oh, come on,” Charity urged. “Alex usually dates, or sleeps with, anyway, people who come to the bar. She’s notorious. But none of us had ever met you before you came in that night. So, how’d it happen?” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, looking eager.
“I met Alex down at the farm,” Elly said, relenting. “She was riding, and there was a thunderstorm. She came knocking at my door for a place to rest while the storm passed.”
“Oh…” Charity drew out the word, waggling her eyebrows. “And I’ll bet she made an impression. I tell you, if I swung that way, I’d totally tap that.”
“She did impress me.” Elly cut her gaze down to the table and topped up her cup of sake to have something to do. “But I think it was the bike she was riding.”
“Last year, that would have been her Harley, I think,” Charity said. “I always liked that one better than her new one. But that’s just me. So, did you stay in touch, then?”
Elly shook her head. “Just coincidence, we ran into each other when I moved here.”
“Some coincidence,” Charity remarked. “And now you’re working together. How funny is that?”
It seemed like a rhetorical question, so Elly didn’t answer. Funny? Maybe, but she hadn’t realized what Alex was really like. She’d known so little of Alex, had built up all these fantasies about seeing her again, but she hadn’t expected Alex to have a boyfriend, or whatever Will was, or so many girlfriends.
“I think she likes you,” Charity said, interrupting Elly’s thoughts.
“As a friend,” Elly replied. A friend with benefits, she added silently.
“F-T-F,” Charity said, and Elly frowned.
“What?”
“Friends that…well, you know.” Charity grinned.
“That’s not really my thing,” Elly said, sure her face was beet-red by now.
“Not mine either,” Charity confided, “but serial monogamy’s not all it’s cracked up to be, either.”
“I thought you had a boyfriend.”
“I do, but I get tired of them pretty easily. They always turn out to be jerks,” Charity said. “This one’s better than most, but…” She shrugged.
“What about Eric?” Elly asked, thinking about how the bartender had seemed sweet on Charity.
“Oh, Eric. He’s a doll, but I don’t date people I work with. Makes life a lot easier.”
The waiter came by with the extra rolls, and this time Elly was first to the plate.
“Aha, I’ve created a monster,” Charity crowed.
“It’s good,” Elly protested.
“Oh, I know. The best food in the world.” Charity scooped up a tuna roll. She popped it into her mouth, making a sound that should have been in a bedroom. Between them, they inhaled the rest of the rolls and finished off the sake. With a groan, Charity sat back. “That’s me done.” She patted her stomach.
“Me too.” Elly felt stuffed, but pleasantly so. “Why don’t you ask Eric out anyway?”
“Don’t want to ruin a good thing,” Charity said. “Work things are tough. There’s no rules against them, and if there were, it’s a restaurant and not an office, but I just don’t want to screw things up. He’s cool, you know.”
“Yeah,” Elly said, thinking more of Alex than Eric. Alex was cool. Confident, poised, and tough. And totally not her type.
“And a total babe. Be still my heart.” Charity mock swooned, and laughed.
“You should try that, next shift you have with him,” Elly suggested. “See if he’ll catch you. Then you’ll know if he’s a keeper.”
“A lot of advice from a girl who looks at Alex like a starving woman looks at a meal, El,” Charity teased.
“Two peas in a pod?” Elly offered.
“Maybe, but it’s an awesome pod.”
The waiter brought their check and they split it. Charity rose. “The day’s still young, and now that I’m not hungry, I think it’s time to shop.”
“I’ll just browse while you shop,” Elly said, following Charity out of the restaurant.
“A bit tight for cash?” Charity asked. “No problem. We’ll go to some consignment stores instead—they’re way better anyway. You can pick up stuff that no one else owns, and look totally original.”
Elly didn’t think that Charity had any problem looking totally original, no matter what she wore. She envied Charity her sophisticated and sexy style, and her confidence.
*
Alex strolled down 17th Avenue, enjoying the sun on her face and the slight breeze. She’d parked her bike on a nearby side street and packed her leathers into her saddlebag, and now she was enjoying the beautiful afternoon. She still wondered if she should have gone riding out to the mountains on her own, but with the sun shining, she didn’t mind so much.
Feeling indulgent, she’d stopped for a small bowl of gelato, and she savored the last spoonful. She licked her lips, then brought her fingers up to her mouth, lightly rubbing at the corners to make sure she hadn’t left any chocolate. Heading farther east, thinking of stopping to sit and enjoy the band playing music in the gazebo, she passed a consignment clothing store. On a whim, knowing she needed a couple of new shirts, she turned and went in, climbing the half flight of stairs up. The proprietor, a curvy blonde wearing a gray blouse and dark skinny jeans, gave her a wide smile and cheery greeting. Alex grinned back.
“Hey, Amanda.”
“Long time no see,” Amanda said as she attached price tags to a stack of new items.
“Too much work,” Alex said, “and it’s riding season.”
“And no leathers to show off?”
“Next time.”
“I hope so. Purple dots are twenty-five percent off, and black ones are fifty.”
Alex nodded and continued on, heading first to the rack of jeans. They were her weakness, and she flipped through the ones in her size, not really looking at color, but feeling for softness. Her hand hit one dark-wash pair that was nearly as soft as cashmere, and she pulled them out, putting them to her waist to check the length. Perfect. She slung them over her shoulder, two fingers hooked into the hanger. She looked for a second pair, but nothing caught her attention, so she moved on, heading to the rack of black shirts, with the row of white shirts beneath it. Amanda sorted by color instead of just size, and Alex appreciated it, given that her standard wear was jeans and a white or black T-shirt outside of work. Never bright colors if she could help it.
Once she’d picked out a few shirts, two black, one white, and one striped just to mix it up, she headed for the change room. Most likely everything would fit, but she liked to double-check. Money was better spent on her bike instead of ill-fitting clothes.
“Oh my God, that is perfect on you.”
She heard the trilling, cheery voice before she saw the speaker. It was familiar. Then she came around a corner, and Charity stood there, her hands on her hips, looking at a woman who stood in front of the tri-paned mirror. She wore a dress in a lacy deep purple; it clung to her like it was made for her alone.
And then Alex saw who Charity was with.
Elly.
And Elly dressed up. Elly out of her trademark jeans and chambray shirt. Elly with her strawberry-blond curls mussed, her face flushed.
Alex felt a rush of attraction but shoved it back. Elly just wanted to be friends. She forced a smile, trying not to look like she was ogling Elly. However, she wasn’t about to let this go, not entirely.
“Gorgeous dress,” she said, stepping up to an empty change room.
In the mirror, Elly’s cheeks went bright red, but she smiled back. “Thank you. I don’t think I’m going to get it though. Just a bit too expensive, and not very practical. I didn’t think you’d be here. You’re not riding?”
Alex shrugged. “Change of plans.”
“Oh, come on, El,” Charity urged. “It’s so worth it. That dress is brilliant.”
“I don’t know.” Elly shifted her weight from foot to foot and Alex hung up her clo
thes before leaning against the wall, making a show of looking her over.
“It suits you, El,” she said. “It’d be a waste not to get it.”
“It’s just…” Elly groped for the price tag that hung by the back of her neck, poking out of the back of the gown. Alex stepped forward and snagged it, her fingertips brushing against Elly’s warm, bare upper back.
Her mouth went dry.
“How much is it, again?” Elly asked, trying to twist and see.
“Hold still,” Alex managed to say, her voice a bit hoarse. She turned the price tag over in her hand: $120. But then she saw the black dot. “Regular price, one twenty. But this one’s on sale. Half off.”
“El, you have to get it,” Charity urged again. “Half price, and it fits you like a glove.”
Still Elly appeared to debate with herself, her eyes downcast, biting her lip. “I can’t. It’s too much right now. I can’t afford it.”
She looked up into the mirror, her smile gone, her shoulders slumped. She went back into the change room and pulled the curtain.
“But it was so perfect,” Charity moaned, though quietly. “You thought so, didn’t you, Alex?”
“Totally. But if it’s too much, it’s too much. Are you two hanging around long?”
“A little while longer, I think. I have stuff to buy.” Charity indicated a pile folded on top of a shelf of shoes. “Just waiting now for Elly to change back out of that utterly fabulous dress.”
“I have a few things to try on, so I guess I’ll talk to you later,” Alex said, indicating her change room.
Charity leaned over to peer in. “Jeans and boring shirts? Oh, Alex, surely you can do better than that.”
“No dresses for me, Char.”
Charity stuck out her tongue. “Lame, Alex. Totally lame.”
Alex ducked into the change room and pulled the curtain. She stripped off her jeans and white T-shirt and pulled on the new pair. Perfect fit, and almost cozy in their softness. The shirts she tried on one after the other, and it was only the striped one that fit the way she liked. It was boat-necked and reminded her of Audrey Hepburn. She changed back into her clothes and pulled open the curtain, wondering if Elly and Charity had left yet.
At the counter, Charity scooped up her bulging silver plastic bag and smiled at Amanda. Elly stood nearby, looking at a flowery pair of Doc Martens.
“Those would be cute on you,” Alex said, coming up beside her.
“You think?” Elly sounded doubtful.
“Not as fantastic as that dress, but they’re cute. A bit rough and tumble, but girly.” Alex moved over and placed her selections on the counter in front of Amanda.
“You’re too predictable,” she said. “But only one shirt this time?”
“The other ones didn’t fit as well.” Alex shrugged and pulled out her wallet from her back pocket.
“Stripes are a good choice,” Amanda said. “Classic. Your total’s forty-five.”
Alex paid and accepted the bag Amanda handed her. “Thanks.”
“Have a good one,” Amanda trilled, then she waved, greeting a new customer. “Diane, how are you?”
Alex turned, not seeing Elly or Charity. She headed out and nearly bowled Charity over coming out the door. Charity was digging in her purse.
“There it is.” She pulled out her phone. “I need a smaller purse.”
“Hey,” Alex said, “what are you two up to?”
“Char’s going to meet her guy,” Elly replied, watching Charity texting furiously.
“And you?”
“Home, I guess.” Elly shrugged. “I’m not working tonight.”
“Have you been down the strip yet?” Alex asked, “Or had a pint at The Ship?”
Elly shook her head. “What’s The Ship?”
“Only the best pub in the city,” Alex said. “It’s nice out—we should find a spot on their patio and get a tan.”
“Sounds fun.”
“You two don’t mind me,” Charity said, not looking up from her phone. “I’ll be meeting the boy shortly.” She glanced up momentarily. “Have fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She giggled.
Alex snorted. “That’s an almost nonexistent list.”
“I know.” Charity waved them away. “Go on.”
Elly put her hands in the pockets of her jeans and they began their walk down 17th.
“What do you think of living down near here?” Alex asked when Elly didn’t start a conversation. She wondered why Elly was so quiet. It wasn’t like they were strangers. Maybe Elly hadn’t wanted to join her, but had felt she had to.
“I haven’t been out much,” Elly admitted.
“But you’ve been here a couple of months, haven’t you?” Alex said, confused.
“I know.” Elly’s shoulders scrunched and she looked embarrassed.
“You’ve had a couple of months of nice spring weather and haven’t been out to sit on a pub patio?” If she lived closer, she’d be on a patio every day off, soaking up the sun. Except when she was riding, of course.
“I don’t like going out alone.” Elly flushed and looked away, down the street ahead of them. Alex wondered at her statement, then considered. Downtown teemed with people; it was noisy and a bit dirty, and there were always a few panhandlers begging for change. It was a lively place, but it was a city thing. Main Street in Elly’s town probably had tumbleweeds on it.
“It’s safe here,” Alex said, trying to keep her tone positive. “Not as quiet as the farm, but safe, nonetheless.”
“It’s a bit overwhelming,” Elly admitted, though her shoulders straightened.
“It would be. Let me show you one of my favorite spots. To The Ship!”
Chapter Thirteen
Elly felt her phone vibrating in her pocket, and she pulled it out, frowning at the display. Across from her, Alex took a sip of her pint of beer, her sunglasses on, the light glinting off the dark plastic.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” The number was unfamiliar, but it seemed local.
“Answer it anyway. Maybe you won the lottery.”
Elly snorted. “Doubt it.” But she did answer. “Hello?”
“Eleanor Cole?” a man’s voice asked, confident with its deep baritone.
“Yes. Who am I speaking to?” She had to put a finger in her other ear in order to hear him over the chatter on the patio.
“This is Bernard Hamilton, Ms. Cole. Your neighbor gave me your number, since I hadn’t heard from you. Do you have time to chat?”
“I do. I had meant to call you, but time got away from me.”
Alex gave her a puzzled look. She mouthed buyer for the farm and Alex nodded.
“Perfectly all right. Now, I’d like to offer you half a million for the land, all the quarter-sections you own.”
“Really?” Elly wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.
“That’s right.”
“I’ll have to think about it,” Elly said. Her mind whirled, and the half a pint of beer she’d just drunk now churned in her stomach. With half a million dollars, she could buy a place in town, find a job better suited, and she wouldn’t have to worry.
“Don’t think too long,” Hamilton warned. “We want to move fast on this deal. We have a few other ranchers nearby under consideration, but we’d prefer your property. It’s much better situated.”
“Situated for what?”
“Close to the highway, with access, good flat stretches, barring the farmhouse plot itself, of course. We’d likely use that as an office, if it’s in good shape. What do you say?”
What would she say? Elly fiddled with her glass, turning it on its cardboard coaster.
“Ms. Cole? You still there?”
“Still here. Sorry, you’ve just caught me by surprise. Can I think about it and get back to you?”
“Call me whenever you’ve decided,” he said graciously. “But the sooner the better. You can reach me at this number at any time.”
Elly hung up the phone and set it shakily on the heavy varnished wood of the picnic table. Her beer sat before her, but her desire to enjoy her drink had fled. Selling the farm. It was for real now. She had to decide.
“You all right?” Alex asked, reaching across to pat her hand. “You look pale.”
“That company offered me half a million dollars for the farm,” Elly said, her voice barely a whisper.
“Holy shit.” Alex gripped her hand instead. “That’s a lot of money. You going to sell?”
“I don’t know.” Elly looked up at Alex, who gazed back at her with an excited expression.
“Hard to turn down half a million,” Alex said. “Think of what you could do with that money, El. You could buy a place in Calgary, set yourself up good.”
“I could. But it’s home.”
“It is, but you could get a better home. A newer one.”
“I don’t know.” A newer home didn’t have character like the farm did, and it wasn’t where she’d grown up, where her family had lived. Nothing could replace that.
“Sleep on it,” Alex advised. “There’s no real rush, is there?”
“I can’t wait too long on it, though. He said they’re looking at other farms.”
Alex squeezed her hand and let go. “Don’t worry about it right now. Enjoy your beer, then we’ll go wander along the avenue some more. You need to go to the candy store.”
“What kind of candy?”
“All kinds. You’ll see. Let’s order another round.”
*
As they sat with their second drinks, Elly’s phone rang again. “Damn, it’s Jack.” She answered the phone, though warily. “Jack?” Elly listened, and then her face flushed a dark pink, and her brow furrowed. Alex wished she could hear what he said, but the noise of the traffic on the road opposite them drowned out any sound from the phone’s tiny speaker. What would a guy like Jack be calling for now? And how would he know she’d talked to the corporate guy? That seemed awfully quick. Elly really should sell, especially if she was having all this interest.
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