Page 87 of Plays Well With Others

RAIN CHECK

Rachel

Upbeat pop tunes give the sidewalk sale a party atmosphere. Crowds weave along the walkway, stopping at booths, checking out cute clothes from Better With Pockets, quirky gifts from Effing Stuff, cold brew from Doctor Insomnia’s Tea and Coffee Emporium, and Fable’s latest collection of “Treat Yourself” necklaces—sparkly sun, moon, and star pendants displayed on our table.

We’ve sold as many necklaces in the last few hours as we have in the last few days. I’ll need to bring some brownies to Beatrix at the dress shop tomorrow to thank her for this opportunity.

Even though it’s nearing nine, the event shows no sign of winding down. I tuck my phone back in my pocket as a woman in ripped jeans and a cropped sweatshirt walks past my table, then does a double take and hurries back to me.

“Hi,” she says with a curious sort of grin. It seems like it’s leading to something—something good—and I am here for it.

“Hey there,” I say. “Can I help you with anything tonight?”

She tucks a strand of sleek black hair behind her ear, then lets out a relieved breath. “I just wanted to say your farmers’ market advice is so good. I’m seeing a guy this weekend, and I was likeDo I research the farmers at the market? Do I ask if they use pesticide?Do I have to know all the different types of mushrooms?My brain was spinning, and then your video made me realize,Oh, I can just have fun.”

I smile at her. “Dating is hard enough without having to memorize mushroom varieties.”

Fable lifts an opinionated finger. “Chanterelles, honey. Those are the best.”

“Good to know,” the woman says, then turns back to me. “Also, you two are seriously the cutest.”

I bump shoulders with Fable, proud of my talented friend. “Thanks. She’s a goddess at jewelry-making.”

My colleague snorts. “Rachel, I’m pretty sure she’s talking about you and the hottie.”

My cheeks heat. Oops. “Oh. Right.”

“How long have you been together?” the woman asks.

I shake my head, dismissing that notion. I am definitely not trying to present myself as his girlfriend. I don’t want anyone to think I’m trying to ride the coattails of his local sports fame. “We’re just friends,” I emphasize.

The woman snort-laughs.

That’s…bold.

But okay, she can have her opinion. Rachel 2.0 isn’t going to be a jerk anymore.

“Well, everyone is shipping you,” she adds.

“They are?” That’s news to me.

“Especially after the eggplant comment,” she says.

Ah. That makes sense. Carter texted me earlier today. When I first opened it, hisI need to give you a heads-up about somethinghad me worried.

But then he’d sent the clip and added:If they only knew what you plan on doing with my eggplant, just imagine the comments.

Relieved, I’d laughed. Because even though I was making a dick joke, it was still a friendly one. I replied:If they only knew how much you liked a pair of melons with eggplant, just imagine those comments.

The woman pulls out her phone and shows me the latest.

He’d be the best boyfriend.

He is seriously boyfriend goals.

And you two are soooo adorbs.

My heart warms. Heisthe best. But it’s not fair to him to let people presume we’re together. So once more, I say, “We aretrulygreat friends.”

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