resolve. “Nine thousand dollars, but that’s my final offer.”
The trio of older ladies looked from Blair to Maggie with interest. Nine thousand dollars was not a number you heard tossed about in St. Stanley.
“No,” Maggie said. “And that’s my final answer.”
“No? To nine thousand dollars?” Mrs. Oliver asked as she glanced around the shop. “Are you quite sure, dear? What does she want to buy?”
“My boyfriend,” Maggie said. She gave Blair a dark, forbidding look.
“Oh, honey, you can have my Gerald for half that,” Mrs. Oliver said to Blair.
Blair gave her a disgruntled look. “Thanks, but no. I’m looking for someone a bit more spry.”
“He’s got a prescription,” Mrs. Oliver said with a wink. “It gives him plenty of spry, if you know what I mean.”
A snort burst out of Maggie before she could stop it. Mrs. Oliver’s friends were chuckling as well, but Blair just looked irritated.
“I can see that this is all just a big joke to you,” she said to Maggie. “We’ll just see who’s laughing when Sam throws you over for Summer.”
“Say what?” Mrs. Oliver’s friend Patty Trudeau asked. “That’s ridiculous. That boy has been following Maggie around for months. It’d take a crowbar and some serious elbow grease to get him off of her.”
Maggie smiled at the woman, who had just earned herself fifty percent off.
“Thank you, Mrs. Trudeau,” she said. Then she turned to Blair and said, “I think we’re done here. Now, good-bye, and I really do mean that from the bottom of my heart.”
Blair glanced at her jewel-encrusted watch and heaved a sigh. “Fine. It’s just as well. I have a hair appointment anyway. Think about what I’m offering.”
She gave Maggie a superior look, stuffed her checkbook back into her purse and sauntered out of the shop. Maggie had the feeling that she had not seen the last of the vile woman. Something had to be done. She simply could not keep dealing with this ridiculousness.
She rang up Mrs. Oliver and company. They had all found hats for their tea and were looking forward to their trip to Dumontville. She was happy for them, but she had a trip of her own in mind.
Grabbing her keys, Maggie retrieved her coat and locked up the shop. She waited for two cars to pass and then hurried across the street to Summer’s shop, Second Time Around.
Maggie had never been in Summer’s store before. The window display, a full-size cardboard cutout of Summer dressed up in a gaudy cupid outfit, was off-putting to begin with, and she really had less than no interest in seeing what Summer had done with her shop.
The bells jangled on the door as Maggie pulled it open. She stopped in her tracks to take in the scene before her. She felt her mouth slowly slide open, and her power of speech evaporated. Twice in one day—it was definitely her new personal best.
With the walls draped in silk hangings and the scent of incense on the air, Maggie felt as if she’d walked into a scene out of
Arabian Nights
.
“Holy wow,” she breathed.
“Can I help—oh, hi, Maggie,” Sheri Sokolowski greeted her as she stepped out of the back room.
Sheri was wearing a clingy red jersey dress that hugged her generous curves as if hanging on for dear life. Sheri kept tugging up the front of the dress, which seemed to want to reveal as much of her cleavage as was possible.
Sheri let out an impatient sigh and then grabbed a scarf off a rack nearby and draped it over her shoulders.
“There,” she said. Then she smiled at Maggie. “What can I do for you?”
“I was looking for Summer,” Maggie said.
“Oh, yeah, Scheherazade is out to lunch,” Sheri said drily.
Maggie smiled. “So, I take it you’re not loving this?”
“It’s a job when jobs are scarce.” Sheri sighed. “It would be a bit more bearable if Summer didn’t insist on my dressing like a ho, but as I said, jobs are scarce.”
“I hear you,” Maggie said. “You know, I think Doc Franklin might