Taking my time in the locker room, I’m in no hurry to exit the building. I have nowhere to be, and going back to Willow’s—even when she’s not there—isn’t high on my priority list.
I came to work out my frustrations and somehow wound up with more. I didn’t mean to be an asshole to Pippa, but certain levels of drunkenness are like a trigger for me, and I don’t want to associate Pippa with that memory.
I’m practically dragging my feet as I pass Willow’s shop, and to stop myself from staring through her window, I pull out my phone, pretending I’m interested in something on the screen.
But it’s pointless.
My eyes flash to the door just as she comes running out of it, darting across the road without bothering to look for traffic.
Without noticing I’m there.
She stops beside a car, where an older lady is trying to lift two boxes out of the trunk. At once.
I watch for a second as Willow leans in to help, but when I see more boxes, I rush over to join them.
“Maeve, let me grab those,” Willow says as she lifts the boxes easily. “Are you taking these to the salon?”
Maeve smiles warmly. “Oh, thank you, dear. Yes, I am. There’s another…”
She pauses when I reach the car and grab the four remaining boxes in one go. They’re not at all heavy like I expected, but they’re awkward to carry.
“You’re Pippa’s football guy,” Maeve says, her tone not giving away her feelings on the matter.
“It’s hockey, Maeve. But yes, that’s him,” Willow says with less enthusiasm than she’d have at the dentist. “I could have gotten those boxes too, you know,” she adds under her breath when I move into step beside her.
“I’m sure you could have,” I respond with a shrug because, in honesty, I don’t know why I’m here.
When we get to the salon, Maeve stops, her eyes narrowing as she looks at the boxes in my hands. “I could probably sell those boxes now and fund a vacation,” she says with a chuckle.
Huh?
“You know. Because you’ve touched them. If you signed them too, I’d get even more money.”
Willow laughs, and I wish I could see the funny side to this, but since it’s the story of my life, I don’t. I once had someone try and sell one of my used tissues. It’s fucking insane what people do.
The damn bell chimes as we enter, and the ladies in the shop glance over while they talk. It looks like they’re about to resume their business until they all seem to notice me at the same time and collectively fall silent.
“Ladies,” I say with a nod, while Maeve tells them off. “Back to it. It’s like you’ve never seen a handsome man before. You’re all married!”
They ignore her and continue to stare as I’m led to the back. I gently place the boxes where I’m directed and then turn to make my escape.
“Hockey man,” Maeve calls out as I reach the door. “Do you think you could help me for another minute?”
I close my eyes and inhale slowly before turning around with a forced smile. “Of course.”
Willow bites back a grin as she walks backward toward the exit. “You’re in good hands, Maeve. I better get back to the shop in case anyone’s waiting.”
I glance out the window and can see the front door of Willow’s store. No one’s waiting. I’m not doing this alone. “You’re fine. There’s no one there,” I say, subtly motioning for her to come back.
“They could be inside,” she says happily with a shrug, and it’s then that I remember…
“You left the shop open?”Fucking small towns.
“I trust everyone here.”
My mouth falls open, and I have to stop myself from running over to shake some sense into her while yelling,“That’s your problem. You trust too easily.”
Willow laughs at my expression, probably understanding it completely. “I’m kidding, Jesse. My co-owner, Sara, is there.”