Page 36 of In This Moment

She’d bought the brand a few years ago because it reminded her of home, and it wasn’t overpowering. “But you don’t like it.”

“Never said that.” Type, type. More refusal to look her way.

“Sounds as if you don’t like it.”

“I do.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

Grinning, she pulled pages from the printer and attached them to the blank corkboard on the wall with push pins.

“What’s that?”

So, he was paying attention. “Wordsearch topics.”

“Huh. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Thoroughly amused by the interaction, she went back to her desk.

Twain followed.

She sent a bunch of copies of the archive articles they’d sold in frames to the printer to replace stock, then glanced at the clock. It was only three. “Do you mind if I take off at four? We have the bookclub meeting at Scarlett’s tonight and I’m in charge of snacks. I can buy more frames for the magazine racks while I’m at it.”

“Not a problem.”

“Thank you.”

A grunt came by way of acknowledgement.

Shaking her head at the dog, she sighed. “Ornery men.”

A few more stragglers came in, looked around, and bought some prints in sleeves. While she was up front, she made sure the plants in the bay window were hydrated, Plucky II had enough food and water for the weekend, and changed the pan liner on the bottom of his cage.

Back at her desk, she checked social media again, and read a couple blogs. Which gave her an idea. “Do you mind if I send you a piece for Monday?”

“No. Just get it to me by five.”

She’d have it to him by four since that’s when she was leaving, but okay.

If they were trying to keep the Gazette thriving and townsfolk from getting bored, they’d need to incorporate various topics by way of trends. One of the articles she’d read was how to refurbish old clothes into usable things, and which fads were making a comeback.

Using the blog as a source, she got ideas and put her own spin on it, then did a search for other items in that category and added it to her piece. Not a long editorial, but it was something fresh. A quick skim for edits, and she emailed it to Graham.

Shutting down the computer, she grabbed her laptop bag, manilla folder with copied archives, and rose. “I sent you the piece. Need me to do anything else before I go?”

“Nope. I’m good. Thanks for everything. Have a good weekend.”

“You, too.” She frowned, petting the dog one last time.

Graham still hadn’t looked at her, and she wondered if it had to do with their almost kiss. Was he mad at himself? Her? Embarrassed?

Not certain how to address the climate change between them, she left, her stomach in knots.

She hit the thrift store and cleaned them out of photo frames, then dialed Scarlett on her way home. “Hey, how many people are we expecting tonight?”

“Not a clue, girl.” Voices muffled in the background. “Aden Abner, you could piss off the Pope. Git outta here.” A beat passed, and Scarlett sighed. “Ugh, that man makes my ass itch.”

---