Free Sealed with a Kiss by Mae Nunn Page B

unconventional lifestyle. He was virtually camping in the tiny apartment, going for broke with his business, and seemingly had not a care in the world about the financial outcome. The fact that he had so few material possessions yet seemed so rich in life experience drew students to his door like kids to an ice-cream truck.
    â€œHe’s like the Pied Piper,” Tara muttered.
    â€œHuh?” Lacey scrunched her brow. “I thought we were talking about the new espresso machine.”
    â€œI’m sorry.” Tara whacked the crown of her friend’s head with the small paper manual. “I got a little distracted there for a minute. Okay, I confess, I’m nervous about the opening.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œHas it escaped your notice that folks are treating Sam like a conquering hero while I’m not exactly getting a warm reception?”
    Lacey crossed her arms and tilted her head in concentration. “Well, if you think about it, he’s an easier fit than you. They don’t have to stretch too far to embrace Sam. You, however, always were on the quiet side and you’ve changed so much since you moved away that they really don’t know you.”
    Tara snorted at the observation. “Oh, right, and Sam’s the same today as he was nine years ago.”
    â€œTruth be told, yes, he is. Sam may be physically different, but in his heart he wants the same things. An uncomplicated life, respect, friends.”
    Tara suspected she was the one person in town who saw through the good-old-boy act. Was she also the only one who remembered he had a Master’s Degree in Economics? “Please don’t tell me he has the hook set in your lip, too?”
    â€œMaybe he does. And maybe you need to dangle a little bait of your own.” Lacey swirled the ice in her plastic cup.
    Tara slapped the manual on the surface of the bar. “Meaning?”
    â€œMeaning, get to know everybody again. You make zero effort to fit in. For starters, look at yourself.” She waggled fingers up and down at her friend’s dark apparel.
    â€œI sold you that great outfit and you wore it once the day you bought it. You insist on shrouding your body in long black pants and skirts even in the heat of the summer when everybody else is in shorts.”
    â€œThat’s not fair. I don’t tan like everybody else. I’m fish-belly white when you’re all brown as cocoa beans.”
    â€œAnd that won’t change if you don’t get out of those fancy pants and into something short and cool,” Lacey insisted.
    â€œThere are a couple of very good reasons why I don’t dare.” Tara held up two fingers. “One, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve put on about twenty pounds. My thighs are more dimpled than a golf ball. And, two, the glare from my skin is enough to put somebody’s eye out. So I’m doing us all a favor and keeping my fancy pants on.”
    Lacey gulped the last of her latte, crunching ice from the bottom of the cup as she considered her response. “If you’d spent any time reconnecting with the few high-school friends you had, you’d have noticed that none of us look like we did when we were teenagers. And most folks don’t care. Appearances may be everything on Madison Avenue, but down on Beardsly Square we like to think it’s what’s inside that counts.”
    â€œYou sound like my grandmother,” Tara conceded.
    â€œThat’s because most of our grandmothers tried to teach us the same thing. I know Miss Miriam didn’t bring you back here to hurt you. She had to believe you’d figure out how to fit in or she’d have made it easy for you to stay away.”
    â€œYou think?”
    Lacey rounded the bar. “I’m positive.” She draped her arm around Tara’s shoulders. “So stop worrying about what’s wrong with you and let’s focus instead on the stuff that’s a