“You can leave now,” Cooper said, looking amused. “We can start over. Once I get my pants on.”
I backed out of the dressing room, tripping over my own feet before knocking a mannequin into the lingerie. Flustered, I righted both the mannequin and myself and worked on my deep breathing.
“Relax,” Allie said, coming to stand next to me. “He wasn’t showing any more skin than you do in a bathing suit.”
“It’s different,” I argued. “He’s the chief of police.”
“He’s also your client,” she pointed out. “Don’t stylists see their clients in various states of undress all the time? You were just doing your job. What a sacrifice, am I right?”
She had something of a point, but somehow, this time around felt different. When I was employed in Hollywood, working with movie stars and actresses, it was part of the territory to pin and tape and hike up outfits into place. I’d put tape on boobies and glue places I didn’t dare name. Nudity was a part of the job. I’d just never had to tape things onto a real-life chief of police. One who happened to have a very, very personal interest in me.
“I’ll tell you what.” I called through the changing room door to Cooper. “I’m running up to the Mall of America tomorrow to go shopping for the day with my friend. I’ll find you something to wear there. No payment necessary. On the house.”
“But—” Cooper began before Allie cut him off.
“I’ll come with you,” Allie said. “As your assistant.”
“Can’t you find him something here?” my mother said. “That’s... sort of the point.”
“Just...” I sighed. “Fine. Yes. I’ll pick out something later. I need to go get a coffee. I’ll be back.”
“Honey!” My mother called after me as I headed to the front door. “Your shift doesn’t end for another several hours. Plus, we’re going to be busy today. We’ve got the best seats in the house to watch as they get set up for filming.”
“I’ll bring you all back a coffee,” I said. “Tell Cooper to set up another appointment, and I’ll prepare a few more things in advance.”
My stomping lasted all the way to Blueberry Café—a quaint little coffee shop owned by Matt Bridge’s grandmother. I toned down my stomping as I pulled open the front door and called my order to a waiting, smiling June.
“I need a coffee, stat,” I said, collapsing onto the counter. “Black. Strong. As strong as you can make it. And a couple of other coffees to go for my mom and Allie.”
“Rough day?” she asked kindly.
“Don’t get me started,” I said. “I don’t know how to recover. I’m not sure I’ll ever recover. I’m not sure it’s possible to recover.” Another image of Cooper shirtless flooded my thoughts. “I’m scarred for life.”
Chapter 3
The next morning found me awake much earlier than I’d been in a long, long time. I danced my way out of bed and pliéd into my newest pair of Jenny Hope shoes. I knew everyone would say they were impractical for a day spent walking around the Mall of America, but I didn’t care. Today was a shopping day. Shopping days were cause for celebration.
I tied my hair back into a quick and easy topknot, then added a flourish with a violet floral scarf. The one thing I didn’t have time to mess with was hair in my face while I was on the prowl for a bargain. A girl could only focus on so many things at one time, and it wouldn’t be on my hair getting stuck to my lip gloss.
I added a cute pair of jeans and a ruffled tank top that had plenty of stretch to it. I needed to be able to reach high and low, left and right, forward and backward. I added a touch-up of nail polish to my toes until a happy shade of pink poked through my peep-toe heels. I’d gotten a manicure at Butternut Babes salon the night before after my shift had ended. I was as ready as I’d ever be.
I hopped downstairs, humming a song that had no actual tune to it. No pitch for that matter, either. It was impossible to keep my excitement under wraps. After months living in Blueberry Lake, I was finally making it up to the famed Mall of America.
Some might be surprised by the fact that I hadn’t been to the mall yet, but I had a plethora of good excuses. First off, I’d only recently secured a car, and therefore my freedom. Then there was the fact that most of my waking moments thus far had been dedicated to the two murder cases I’d found myself wrapped up in since my arrival from LA. Helping get my mother’s store get back on track had also needed to be fitted in there. Last, but definitely not least, was the whole teensy fact that I didn’t have money.
I still didn’t have a ton of money, but it wasn’t exactly my choice to go to the mall. If a girl got called to show another girl around the mall, it would just be rude to say no. And I was becoming Minnesota Nice. I was practically under contract to show Cassidy a good time.
Once downstairs, I pretended to scrounge through my kitchen cupboards in search of coffee, knowing I wouldn’t find anything of the sort. I snatched a darling purse with cute yellow ruffles along the side and a bright orange shoulder strap that added a nice contrasting pop of color as well as functionality. Nobody was going to get that purse off my shoulder, and it left me hands free. Safety and style.
Making my way to the front door, I peeped out the windows and found an unfamiliar car parked on the street. Actually, that part was a lie. The car wasn’t exactly unfamiliar, I just didn’t want it to be there. A purple monstrosity purchased from the only car dealer who would sell bullet-riddled vehicles in the State of Minnesota. I knew this because I’d purchased my car from the very same guy.
That vehicle could only ever possibly belong to one person. However, that person was nowhere to be seen. I glanced around, but I couldn’t find Allie. I wondered if she’d gone across the street to visit her living and breathing calendar, Angela Dewey.
With a shrug, I picked my way across the front lawn toward my neighbor’s house. I had a one-track mind, and that track was headed straight toward Caffeine Central. I could’ve taken the sidewalk but decided time was of the essence, so I chose to blaze my own trail to Matt’s for the morning coffee run through our yards.
“Gross,” I commented, pushing Matt’s unlocked door open. “Did you see the dirt out there? It’s all... wet. Not a good look on these shoes.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be running a garden shop?” The voice coming from the kitchen was female, and it stopped me cold. “I don’t think gardeners are supposed to think dirt is gross.”
A second later, the female behind said voice came into view. Allie was seated at Matt’s kitchen table, and the result threw me for a loop. She was in my spot at Matt’s table. Her hands were wrapped around my mug of coffee. It was unsettling.
Matt looked up from his perch behind the counter, holding his traditional mug up to his lips. He smirked at the look on my face.
“Don’t worry,” he said easily. “I saved you some coffee.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I stuttered, wiping the look of surprise off my face. “Good morning to both of you.”