Page 43 of Operation: Chosen

“I know.” Lacy smiled. “Cute top, by the way.” She made an offhand gesture at Ali’s cotton designer tee.

“Thanks.” Ali hoped her face didn’t show her confusion. “Was there something you needed from me?”

Lacy glanced around the room again and crossed her arms. “Look, I know we may never be besties. I know you and I are very different, but I shouldn’t have let that determine how I treated you and what I said. I can have a short fuse sometimes and I’m completely unequipped to fake anything. I’m sorry.”

Ali shrugged, still not sure what she should say. “It’s fine. You are who you are, and I am who I am. It’s not like we’ll be sharing emails after I leave.” She laughed, hoping she hadn’t gone too far.

“Maybe.” Lacy glanced behind her.

In the short times Ali had been with Lacy, she’d gotten the impression that Lacy was always in control in every way, very much like Ali herself. She knew what to say and how to manage anything that came at her. But Ali was different than Lacy expected, and that made Lacy uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to stay. I don’t hold your words against you,” Ali said.

Lacy laughed. “Good. Look, there are a few cute places in Cheyenne that I thought you might like. After more than a week of being away from the big city, you probably need to breathe some car fumes or have your view blocked by some tall buildings.” Lacy laughed again, letting Ali know she was teasing.

Ali couldn’t stop herself from joining. The scenario was so absurd. “I always did like stifling architecture.”

“Well, then grab your purse. We’ll go look at the best ‘stifling architecture’ Wyoming has to offer within an hour of Piper’s Ridge.” Lacy headed for the door.

“Are you serious?” Ali asked. Lacy wanted to be confined to a car with Ali for a few hours?

“I don’t really joke around.” Lacy turned the knob and opened the door. “You getting your purse, or am I going alone?”

“Nope, give me thirty seconds.” Ali ran for the kitchen chair holding her purse, shoved her phone inside, then rushed for the door. She slipped on some comfortable sandals and followed Lacy out the door.

What in the world could she talk about for an hour-long drive with a woman who wouldn’t like anything she’d done in her life? Then again, until the case with Gene, when had she ever backed down from a challenge?

* * *

Ridingas a passenger in the car with Lacy was strange. Ali’s life was full of independence and definitely sitting in the driver’s seat. Learning to be independent of and from those who’d hurt her was a skill she’d honed to perfection. The passenger seat was oddly unsettling as they barreled down the freeway without any control from Ali.

“I never thought a lawyer would be so quiet.” Lacy glanced over at her from the driver’s seat.

“I still don’t know what to talk about.” Which also left her unsettled. Her life was a series of orderly events. Nothing surprising. She could be at the top of her game if she knew what was expected of her every minute.

“Well, you won’t need to talk when we’re there.” Lacy pulled into a parking spot along the street. Cheyenne didn’t look like it should be as large as it was. It had a feel of age, like it had been there for over a century and just didn’t like to adjust that much. The fronts of the buildings were brick, and some showed wear and crumbling facades while others looked bright and new.

“Is this what the whole town looks like?” Ali stepped from the car and slung her bag over her shoulder.

“This part. There’s a newer part that might be closer to what you’d think Cheyenne would be like, but it doesn’t have this.” She waved to a pretty sign above the door:Cherry’s Consignment.

Ali held in a flinch. Used clothes. Had people washed them before bringing them in for donation? Was she going to have to embarrass herself by being worried over touching anything? She wasn’t OCD. Far from it. But she hated a mess and having things out of order. Order made situations easier.

Lacy headed for the door and held it open. “Come on in. My friend owns it, and she’s just the sweetest.”

Holding in her reservations, Ali headed inside the cool store. Racks of dresses and slacks speckled the floor in the front. About halfway through the store, long racks were marked with signs that said things like “casual shirts – small.” The store smelled of roses, and everything looked orderly.

Ali took a moment to take it in and just breathe. The first thing that caught her eye was a shirt she already owned. How could a store out in the middle of nowhere have designer clothes?

“You shop here?” Ali didn’t mean to offend Lacy, but this didn’t seem like her vibe at all.

“I do. There’s a whole section in the back for jeans and flannel.”

A woman in Jimmy Choo shoes and a floral Oscar De La Renta dress that hit just below her knees headed their way. “Lacy! It’s been months.” She wrapped Lacy in a hug. “How are you?”

Ali had never had a friend like that, and the show of affection made her even more uncomfortable. Apparently, today was the day for feeling out of place. Maybe this whole month would be a lesson in what life should never look like.

Ali flipped through shirts as the two women caught up. She flicked through item after item she would never wear, but casualwear had never been something she’d invested in. Why bother? Her hand stalled over a pink structured tee with bright rhinestones in the shape of a cowboy hat. She picked it up and held it in front of her, catching a glimpse of her reflection in a nearby mirror.

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