Free Hottie by Demi Alex, Tia Fanning Page A

window planters on the railings.
    Leaning the bicycle against a tree, not a bit concerned she didn’t have a chain and lock, Phoebe glanced over her shoulder to check who the older lady was waving at from inside the shop. Finding no one behind her, she smiled back and lifted her hand. The woman was waving at Phoebe. How cute was this woman Phoebe wished was her grandma? Actually, everyone in the town seemed to know each other, and everyone seemed very friendly.
    She made a mental note to ask Hottie to bring her back for Happy Hour at the Bluebonnet Café across the street. Block letters on the yellow sign advertised a slice of their famous homemade pies and a cup of coffee for $3.95. Licking her lips, she imagined warm apple on her tongue, and kept smiling. She smiled so big she felt the strain in her cheeks, so she cracked her jaw and went into the little mom and pop market.
    “Welcome, sweetie,” Mrs. Desired Grandma chimed. “Take your time looking around, and let me know if you need any help.”
    “Thank you, ma’am. Do you have a basket for the groceries?”
    “Down to the right of the door, honey.”
    “Thank you.” Bending to retrieve the wicker basket, Phoebe took a deep breath of the dried herb scent. She tried unsuccessfully to place the amazing aroma. Warm, welcoming, yet spicy, the heavenly smell lured her toward the back of the store and to the bins full of fresh vegetables. She picked up four potatoes, one onion, a bunch of fresh—green leafy parts still on—carrots, and then she walked to the meat showcase.
    Desired Granny followed behind the counter. “Making a special dinner?”
    “Lunch,” Phoebe replied with a smile. Damn her face muscles were out of shape. “I was thinking of some chicken to go with these veggies.”
    “Nice healthy lunch,” Granny agreed and slid the back window on the showcase. “White or dark meat?”
    Phoebe scanned the case, did the math in the money difference between the two options, and made her decision. “How about some thighs and legs?” That way, she could get two pieces for Hottie, rather than one, and still have money for a loaf of bread and the lush-looking blackberries by the front. “Three pieces, please.”
    With the help of some tongs, Granny lifted the three quarters onto the brown wax paper and expertly wrapped the chicken into a neat package. “Anything else, honey?”
    “Some of those delicious looking blackberries on the front counter, please.”
    “Meet you there.”
    Phoebe grabbed a loaf of bread out of a basket, and detoured past the veggies for a lemon before making her way to the front of the store.
    Granny placed a nice amount of berries in a brown bag and scooped some whipped cream into a container. “Dessert is on me. Welcome to Deer Creek, our little slice of heaven, sweetie.”
    “Thank you,” Phoebe breathed past her heart swelling in her throat. “It really is nice over here. I like what I’ve seen so far.”
    “Thinking of making it permanent?”
    “If I could find a job and an affordable place to live, it’d be a real possibility.” Dare to dream, Phoebe added in her mind, her heart sinking to the depths of her stomach as her city pessimism continued the thought with logical objections. Jobs were impossible to come by in small towns. Hence, assertive people headed to the cities for employment.
    “Mrs. Jenkins is looking for some help,” Granny offered. “Can you type?”
    Phoebe nodded, hope fluttering inside her. “Yes. I’m really good at it, too. I’m familiar with every kind of word processing program out there. Plus, I’m a whiz on spreadsheets. Do you think that will be of interest to her?”
    “I’m not sure.” Granny shrugged. “But you said you can type, right?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Warmth spread through Phoebe, and she wanted to hug the granny real tight and inhale what she imagined to be the vanilla scent of her snow-white hair. She was so cute. So nice. And so wonderful. And Phoebe wasn’t