Chapter 12

I even considered calling Lincoln—I had his number on his order form—and asking for Monroe’s. But that felt like a breach of professionalism I couldn’t bring myself to cross. So instead, I just daydreamed, remembering our time together, and hoped I’d find a reasonable excuse to reach out.

Zoe and Lenore were just about to leave for lunch, and I had decided I was going to close the shop for the lunch hour, when Zoe stuck her head through the door to the back room and cleared her throat for my attention. When I turned, her expression was worried.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, standing and crossing to her.

“There’s a customer here, a little frantic, and asking to see you.” She bit her lip. Zoe wasn’t one for confrontation, and something about this customer had set her on edge.

“I’ll take care of it. Head on out. See you in an hour.” I patted her shoulder as I swept by her, and didn’t miss her sigh of relief.