Page 17 of Beg, Borrow, or Steal

“That it’s strictly forbidden. Which honestly makes it a hell of a lot more fun to do, Harriet, so you have to quit bringing it up if you want me to stop,” she says, giving me a little wink.I like her.

“When’d you come in here? I never heard you,” asks Phil.

Mabel extends her foot between us. “New loafers. They’ve got those fancy memory foam insoles. Makes me stealthy as a cat so I can sneak up on Harriet and frustrate the shit out of her.” She grins. “Good for gathering gossip too.” She hitches her thumb in my direction. “It’s a shame about this one, huh?”

I open my mouth to ask what she means by that when Phil speaks up with a sad shake of his head. “Really is. I just know he’s over six foot too. Would’ve been perfect for her height.”

A new voice enters the mix. “Mabel, I swear to god, you have to quit spiking the tea at poker night,” says a dark-haired guy emerging from the aisle just behind us. Probably in his early thirties—he’s wearing jeans and a black short-sleeved tee. Flower tattoos wind all the way down his arm to a butterfly that’s inked on top of his hand. “I’m tired of waking up with a hangover.”

“I thought you were made of stronger stuff than that, William. Sweet tea just isn’t the same without a splash of Jack Daniel’s.”

“I’m pretty sure you mean Jack Daniel’s with a splash of sweet tea.”

Mabel waves dismissively. “Tomatoes potatoes.”

I’m in a conversational hurricane with no end in sight.

The guy turns to me and sticks out his hand. “Hi, I’m Will Griffin. Fellow Rome circus member.”

“Jack Bennett. Newest circus member, I guess?”

“Oh—you’reJack,” he says, as our handshake finishes. “Sorry about the wedding.”

Was it printed in the damn paper or something?

But then he looks at the others and lifts his brows, joining their previous conversation like I’m not even standing here. “Pretty eyes and a good sense of fashion? It’s a damn shame.”

Okay, what the actual hell?

The group continues to size me up very openly, commenting on my features and personality (in a surprisingly complimentary way but almost like I’m…dead?). I tune out for a second, though, as I feel my phone buzz again and open it only to find a series of texts from my contractor who I’m supposed to meet with later today. (Note to self: There’s a bar of service right in front of the checkout counter.)

Darrell:Hi Jack. Sorry to do this so late in the game but the project I’m currently working on is running longer than anticipated.

Darrell:I’m not going to be able to take on your house next week after all.

I fire back a text.

Jack:That’s unfortunate. How much later are you anticipating the project running? It’s not ideal but I’m willing to wait and book you and your crew for when you’re finished with your current project.

Darrell:Well…actually…I can’t help you after this project either.

Huh. That’s concerning.

Jack:Do you mind if I ask why?

Darrell:Because I’m moving.

Darrell:To another country.

Darrell:Have a nice day. Sorry I can’t help.

I might have actually thought he was genuinely booked up until those last two texts. I clue back into the conversation around me right as I hear them speculating that I would have been a great resource for the local softball league too.

I shove my phone back in my pocket. “Okay, I’ll bite. Someone tell me what’s going on. Why are you all talking about me like I’m already one foot out the door when I just moved to town?”

Harriet’s lips press into a line. Phil’s gaze drops to his sneakers. Mabel elbows Will in the side. He grumbles a little but then looks at me. “We may or may not have been warned to give you the cold shoulder because there’s someone here who doesn’t want you sticking around…”

“What?Who would do something so…” But then it all clicks into place, and I remember the little furrow between Emily’s eyebrows. All the comments about the town’s loyalty to her too.

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