Page 16 of Tangled Up In You

"She has no idea. She just arrived, and, like you said, the store is a mess. Apparently, the late Caroline Montgomery sent half her estate to Phoebe. Which makes me wonder…" He could see the awareness enter Brodie's gaze.

"Whether there's something at the store that's worth stealing," Brodie finished.

"Yes. Or the break-in might have been a crime of opportunity. Everyone in town knew Phoebe was dead, and the store was temporarily unattended. Phoebe's lawyer had the locks changed, and there wasn't another incident until possibly today when the door was open."

"Are you sure you're not just looking for a crime to solve?"

He sipped his beer, then gave him a dry smile. "That's entirely possible."

Brodie grinned back at him. "At least you're owning it. Who's the new owner? Is she another Phoebe?"

"Not even close. She's young, probably late twenties. And she's…" His voice trailed away as he searched for the right words to describe Molly. "She's very interesting."

"As in hot, beautiful, sexy, interesting?"

"Yes," he admitted, seeing the speculative gleam in Brodie's eyes. "But she is not my type. She's into crystals and magical thinking."

"So what? You don't have to marry her. When's the last time you had some uncommitted fun?"

"I have fun," he grumbled.

"That's not what Chelsea and Lizzie say."

"My sisters don't know everything, and neither do you."

"I don't doubt that."

Their gazes moved back to the screen as Dante took his no-hitter into the final inning.

"Three outs and Dante will have a no-hitter," Brodie said. "To think, a couple of months ago, Dante wasn't even sure he'd pitch again. Now look at him. Just goes to show you never know what might be around the next corner—good or bad."

"You never know." He sipped his beer, his gaze on the screen, but his thoughts on Molly. He didn't know if her arrival would be good or bad, but he was curious to find out.

ChapterFive

Saturday morning,Molly went down to the shop a little before ten. She'd planned to get in earlier, but after rolling around on a hard couch for too many hours, she'd finally fallen asleep close to dawn. She really needed to get over her fear of taking over Phoebe's bedroom. She couldn't sleep on the couch indefinitely.

Tonight, she would change the sheets and force herself to sleep on the bed. Phoebe would want her to make herself comfortable. She would want her to look at the apartment as home. In fact, she'd probably want her to look at the store as home, too.

Phoebe had left her a life to step into, the same life Phoebe had lived.

But as Molly gazed around the cluttered showroom, she wondered if she could take Phoebe's life and make it her own.

It was a complicated gift she'd received. The store could be a new beginning or a mistaken detour. She could spend a lot of time and fail. She could spend a lot of time and be a success.But then what?

She was afraid of roots, terrified of commitment. Roots could get ripped up; commitment could disappear; heartbreaking disappointment could follow. She'd seen it happen to her mother, and in turn, it had happened to her. Caring too much could bring pain. She'd started to believe her mother had the right idea: move on before anyone gets hurt.

But she was tired of moving on, starting over. This could be the last stop. This could be the place she was meant to be. But it felt like too big a risk to believe that.

She blew out a breath. She was thinking too far ahead. Plans were for other people, not for her. She lived in the moment. And when change came, she embraced it. She hurried through life, never letting herself linger too long anywhere. Even now, her pulse was racing along with her thoughts. She needed to slow down. She should probably go into the yoga studio and work out, but she didn't have time for that. She had too much to do.

She suddenly heard Phoebe's voice in her head, telling her to stop thinking so much. She didn't need to solve every problem right now. Phoebe had urged her to find the joy in discovery. That's what she needed to focus on now.

She just wished she could have one more conversation with Phoebe, that Phoebe could tell her what to do next, what was most important. Because, along with the store, Phoebe had also left her ashes to her, with a note that the lawyer had read to her over the phone. She needed to read it again, because she'd been so overwhelmed, she'd barely heard it, but she knew that Phoebe wanted her to decide where she should spend eternity. She had no idea why Phoebe would trust her to do that. Nor did she have any clue where that should be, but she could push that off for a few days at least. The attorney had possession of the ashes now and had simply asked her to stop by one day next week to collect them. She'd deal with that problem then.

A sharp knock drew her attention to the door, and she saw the face of the lanky teenager she'd hired the day before. She let him in, relieved to have company. She needed a distraction from her own thoughts.

"Hello, Drew. I'm happy to see you," she said.

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