He swallowed and nodded at her as his heart kicked into high speed—Please let it be sunny for her tomorrow— before she grinned, turned, and walked into the office.
***
Jane lay in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. She had finished all of her emails, sent several texts and made the few phone calls that required immediate attention.
Sara had evening plans tonight and tomorrow—a vodka launch tonight and a gala at the MoMA tomorrow—which usually made her happy, but less so with Laney unavailable to join her. Though she loved to be on display, Jane knew Sara preferred to attend these events with a wingman. Jane talked to Sara’s agent, Sebastian, who was traveling with her on Tuesday morning, and he said he’d offer to join her for the launch tonight. Sara wasn’t a fan of Sebastian, but Jane knew she’d probably say yes to his company and end up ordering him around all night. Jane had two thoughts. First, Poor Sebastian, quickly followed by, But, better him than me!
She tried to sleep, but she was exhausted. Beyond exhausted. She checked her phone: eight o’clock here was ten at home. If she were at home, she would pad out to the kitchen and put a cup of milk in the microwave as her mother used to do when she was little and had trouble sleeping, but there was no milk and no microwave in her hotel room.
She got out of bed and flicked on a light, putting her cap back on and grabbing her bag. She glanced in the mirror at her black fleece yoga pants and Boston College t-shirt, and shrugged—she wasn’t about to change for a quick walk to find warm milk, and anyway, besides Lars, she didn’t know a soul in town.
She hadn’t seen a Starbucks during her sightseeing tour of Gardiner, but she was fairly certain she had noticed another coffee shop, and if she wasn’t mistaken, it was just down the road from her hotel. She slipped her feet into flip-flops and locked the hotel room door behind her.
At the front desk, she was told that yes, the Prairie Dawn Café & Book Shop was a five to seven-minute walk from the hotel. Perfect, she thought. A short walk and a cup of hot milk should put me to rights.
The streets of Gardiner weren’t buzzing with activity, but they weren’t dead either. Jane saw a few tourists out and about, having dinner or getting the supplies they needed for their outdoor adventures in the morning. She saw a little boy and his father walking along with new fishing rods resting on their shoulders, and a group of four women in bikini tops, short shorts and hiking boots, headed for a local bar.
It didn’t take long to get to the Prairie Dawn, and when Jane opened the door, she gasped lightly in pleasure, her lips turning up as she stood in the doorway with delight, taking in the quirky little bookstore/café.
It was one large open space, with wooden columns scattered throughout the room at intervals and brightly colored throw rugs covering parts of the wooden floor. Bookcases and windows lined the walls from floor to ceiling to her right, and there were jauntily upholstered couches and chairs, mismatched, waiting for a reader to find a book and get comfortable. Small, ceramic tiled bistro tables, each with two or three chairs, were scattered in cheerful bunches, and a shiny copper coffee bar with six stools took up most of the wall to her left.
Several of the tables and couches were occupied, as people of all ages sipped tea or coffee and flipped through newspapers, magazines and books. Soft music was piped in too, and Jane recognized the mellow voice of James Taylor singing about sweet baby James, which Jane’s mother had always changed to sweet baby Jane.
Walking into the Prairie Dawn felt like an embrace, like walking into a dream, like connecting with the past…and Jane breathed in deeply, smelling the books and the coffee beans, profoundly content with her decision to get out of bed and go on a quest for warm milk.
A petite, redheaded barista stood behind the bar with her elbows on the counter, deep in conversation with a blond man sitting on a stool at the end of the counter. They were practically head to head, and Jane didn’t wish to disturb their conversation, so she pulled out a stool two down from where he sat.
The redhead looked over at Jane and smiled.
“We have a visitor, Paul.”
The blond man looked over at Jane and smiled too.
“From Boston, no less.”
Jane raised her eyebrows.
The woman pointed to her t-shirt and the man pointed to her cap at the same time.
“Originally San Francisco. Then Boston,” Jane admitted. “Now New York.”
The woman moved to stand in front of Jane and offered her hand. “Maggie Campbell.”
“Jane Mays.” She shook Maggie’s hand and turned to Paul, who gestured to the stool beside Jane. She nodded, and he moved over to sit beside her.
“Paul Johansson.”
“Heya,” Jane offered, smiling at each of them in turn.
“Heya!” Paul looked at Maggie and smiled. “Only one family in Gardiner greets everyone with ‘Heya’. Which of the Lindstroms were you hanging out with today?”
“Lars.”
“Magazine shoot,” said Paul.
“What am I thinking right now?” Jane asked in a rush, eyes twinkling.
Paul looked confused.
“Well, you must be clairvoyant!”
Paul chuckled. “Nothing so glamorous. Best friend to Lars.”
“Ahhhh. Just-Lars’s best friend.”
“So you work for Samara Amaya,” said Maggie, and Jane picked up on a soft burr. Irish maybe…or Scottish? “D’you want coffee?”
“Um, yes, I do. And no I don’t. This is a little strange, but I was wondering if I could have some warmed milk?”
“Havin’ trouble sleepin’?”
“A little.”
“Comin’ right up, then. Want a wee bit o‘ sugar too?”
“Sure, Maggie, thanks.”
“Samara Amaya dated the Vikings QB, didn’t she? Last year? Year before?”
Jane shrugged. “The media makes a lot out of these things.”
“Huh. Vikings fans around here were pretty steamed when she dumped him. Blamed her for the next two losses.”
Jane wasn’t comfortable talking about Sara, and her cousin would blow a gasket if she suspected Jane was gossiping about her with the locals. “I can’t actually…”
Maggie interrupted smoothly, giving Paul a look. “She can’t talk about her boss, now, Paul. You want yer milk boiled or steamed, Jane? I’m thinkin’ steamed, right?”
Jane nodded at Maggie gratefully, then turned to Paul, feeling bad that she’d been so cagey.
“Think about if you went on a date with somebody, and it was nice, so you went on another, and it was nice again. But then he went home. And home was a six-hour plane ride away. And you realized you were in New York and he was in Minneapolis, and you were both on the road all the time, so as much as you enjoyed each other, well, it just probably wasn’t going to work out. So, you broke it off. And since it didn’t hurt either of you very much, you knew it probably wasn’t meant to be.” She tilted her head to the side and glanced at Maggie, who set a steaming mug on the counter in front of Jane. “But suddenly there are all of these pictures of you together, magazines are photoshopping wedding dresses on you, and Cartier calls to offer you whatever diamond engagement ring you want. I mean, you were just a girl who went on a couple of dates with a guy. The world isn’t supposed to explode over that.”