Page 41 of 5 Golden Flings

“Yes. Cool Beans,” Alice said. “I feel like I’m in junior high again every time I say that.”

Foster smiled and nodded, but couldn’t bring himself to repeat the name. “So, is that a yes, you’ll let me buy you some coffee, or just a yes, there is a new coffee shop?”

“Oh,” she said, turning back a moment to look at her half-finished tree, and glancing down at her watch. “Um, both?”

“You don’t sound very sure. I understand if you’re too busy. I’m happy to?—”

“No, I want to have coffee with you!” she nearly shouted, a red flush spreading across her pale cheeks, neck, and what was visible of her chest with her plum-colored V-neck sweater. “I, uh, just need to forward my phone to the receptionist, lock up, and be back here in time for my next meeting.”

Foster watched her move efficiently around her desk, locking screens, dialing a dozen numbers on the phone, and slipping her ever-present tablet into her messenger bag. Every few seconds, he’d catch of glimpse of her watching him through her thick eyelashes before quickly looking away and returning to her task.

When she was finally ready to go, he retrieved the Santa suit and opened the office door for her. She smiled at him as she went past into the hallway and there was the ever-so-slight bit of authenticity in it. That was progress.

After locking up the office, they headed downstairs and crossed the lawn to the sidewalk that ran along First Avenue. For mid-morning on a Monday, the downtown area seemed to be bustling. Cars were coming and going. A couple of women came out of the nearby boutique with a few large shopping bags. Another woman went into the hair salon next door, Curls. The mail carrier was walking his downtown route, passing them in the other direction. He was pushing his mail cart with one hand and eating a delectable looking cinnamon roll with the other.

Judging by the pink napkin wrapped around it, he’d just picked it up from the fancy corner bakery they were approaching. Things were livelier around here than he remembered, which was nice considering how many small towns were dying instead of flourishing these days. Mostly because of people like him growing up and moving away to bigger cities.

“How long has it been since you’ve been back to Rosewood?” she asked as they walked.

“It’s funny you should ask that. I was just thinking about when I left. I’d say ten or eleven years, at least. I made a few trips back during the summers when I was still in college, but after graduation, I stayed in Tennessee. A lot has changed.” He pointed to the sign for Madeline’s Bakery as they crossed the street toward it. “That wasn’t here.”

“That opened last year,” Alice explained. “The previous owner passed away and Maddie Chamberlain bought it.”

Foster couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “There’s a name I haven’t thought about in a long time, but I’ve heard it repeatedly since I arrived. The Chamberlain family. They still run this town, don’t they?”

“They like to think so, although the younger generation is more interested in trying to live their lives than maintain any kind of legacy. Did you go to school with any of them?”

Foster shook his head. “Not really. I think the oldest son might’ve been a freshman when I was a senior, but that’s about it. The father handled my parent’s divorce. I remember that much about them.”

“Of course. Until recently, Norman was the only lawyer in Rosewood. Blake is the high school football coach now. His younger sister Maddie has the bakery.” Alice gestured across First Avenue. “And Woody’s Bar is all new inside, if you haven’t been there in a while. The new owner redid the whole place. He’s actually engaged to Maddie Chamberlain, funnily enough.”

“Small towns,” Foster said, although he wasn’t quite sure if he meant the words to be a criticism or not. Things like that didn’t happen in Nashville. Or if they did, no one knew about it because everything was changing so fast. Considering how little he got out of the house, it was a wonder he knew anyone there at all.

“They are special, aren’t they?” Alice seemed to beam with appreciation. “Our office has done a lot of work trying to revitalize the square and plan activities to bring the community together even as it grows. It keeps me busy.” She punctuated her words by pulling her phone from her bag and typing feverishly with her thumbs as they walked.

She put the phone away just as they passed Nelson’s Jewelry store. Foster held open the door of the dry cleaners for them both to step inside. It only took a few minutes for them to drop off the suit, and then they doubled back toward the new café on the corner.

As they reached the counter to order, Foster turned to her. “Do you have enough time to drink it here, or should I order yours to go?”

She glanced at her watch for the tenth time since they were together. “I have a little time, but please order it to go anyway so I can take it back to the office with me. I’ll sip on it for an hour.”

Foster ordered a black coffee for himself and a peppermint mocha for Alice, and then they took their drinks to a small table near the window. The glass was painted with seasonal images of holly and snowmen, one of which held a hot cup of coffee that would invariably melt him in the real world. The holidays were weird. It just took someone from the outside looking in to admit it.

“Thank you for the drink,” Alice said.

“You’re welcome. From what I’ve heard around town, you’re the hardest working woman in Rosewood. I thought you might need a break.”

Alice’s petite nose wrinkled for a minute as though she couldn’t decide if she was flattered or overwhelmed by the title. “It’s a lot. Otto keeps promising to hire help, but when I press him, there never seems to be enough money in the budget. I think he likes me handling everything because he knows it will get done just the way he wants it.”

“Does your job leave you enough time to be with your boyfriend? Or to spend time with family?” He hoped he wasn’t too obvious in his query.

“No, but thankfully I don’t have a boyfriend to neglect. I think Otto likes that too—no personal distractions. I haven’t had a relationship since I moved to Rosewood, to be honest, and that’s a couple of years now. And all my family live in North Carolina. It’s just me and my job here.”

“I understand that,” Foster said. “I write spy thrillers for a living. Writing is a pretty solitary activity. I just sit there at my desk for hours, looking up to realize it’s dark and I haven’t eaten. Or stood. Or spoken all day. I have a few friends in Nashville that try to lure me out of the house, but usually it’s just me and my laptop racing against another deadline.”

“That sounds pretty lonely. At least I get to interact a lot with people at events and meetings. It’s just superficial, though. I’mnot sure I really know anyone here. Thankfully I’m usually too busy to think too much about it. Especially around the holidays.”

“Why did you move here? I always thought Rosewood seemed like the kind of place people are born in, but no one ever moved to.”

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