Free Secrets of the Sisterhood (The Cinderella Society, Episode 1) by Kay Cassidy Page B

name engages them. I wanted the scoop on her Lexy torment and was happy to dip into my bag of new kid tricks to get it.
    Heather, being the nice person she is, froze after hearing her name.
    Gotcha.
    She paused for a second, then turned and came in with a half-smile on her face. “Hey, Jess.”
    “What can I get’cha?”
    “Oh, a bunch of little stuff. Just stocking up, you know?”
    “Gotta keep the good stuff on hand.” I gave her my warmest You can trust me smile. “Want a basket?”
    Heather took the small woven basket from my hand and started shopping. As skittish as she was, I wasn’t pressing my luck. Better to give her some room and see if she loosened up. I’d never seen her keep her distance—at least not from me—so the Lexy thing must’ve really shaken her up. Or she was mad at me about the last day of school, even though she’d totally gotten me back in front of Lexy. Whether she’d meant to or not.
    I wiped down the checkout counter and refilled the tea carafes in the café while Heather filled her basket with wax envelopes of loose tea. A couple of customers came in to pick up orders, and I noticed Heather’s hopeful glances toward the back when she thought I wasn’t looking. It finally dawned on me that she was waiting for Nan so she could check out.  
    Yep. Definitely avoiding me.
    Fortunately, when Nan did come back out front, she was rolling a handcart with the stack of boxes headed for San Diego and carrying her purse. “I’m taking these over to the shipping center so they can go out first thing in the morning. You’ll be okay for a while?”
    “No problem,” I told her. “Take your time.” I’m pretty sure Heather wanted to kick me for that last part.
    Nan gave Heather a little shoulder hug as she passed, stopping for a second to say hi. Nan’s like that. She makes all her regulars feel like the store is their second home.
    Heather’s shoulders sagged when the front door closed behind Nan, and I knew I had her. Not that I let on. I could be plenty patient. Maybe not about getting my makeover going— soon, please! —but I could where Heather was concerned.
    I pulled out a box of mesh tea infusers from under the counter and considered the infusers already on the wall display behind me. I picked through the box for different designs. The one with an engraved star and the one with a peace symbol would round out the collection nicely. I hung them from their chains on the pegs of the wooden display bar, not wanting to venture far from the cash register and give Heather a reason to bolt. You have to pass in front of the checkout to get to the front door. I was holding my ground.
    Heather looked like she was waffling about whether to pay or leave her basket and come back later, so I offered my kindest smile. “All ready to check out?”
    Heather debated for a second and then nodded, reluctantly setting her basket in front of me.
    I hated seeing Heather so hesitant around me. My brain grasped for things to ease the tension in the air. Deciding to play it safe for now, I made small talk about the next mosaic workshop Nan was hosting.
    Adorning the wall of the café is a display of framed twelve-inch-by-twelve-inch mosaic tiles. It started when a customer on her cell phone accidentally knocked over a table of ceramic tea pots crafted by a local potter. The tea pots were so pretty Nan couldn’t bear to throw the shards in the trash. Instead, she created a mosaic tile with the shattered pieces and hung it on the wall that would affectionately become known as the Broken into Beautiful wall.
    Now people brought Nan old plates they found at garage sales or in basements and attics, and the mosaic workshops she hosted filled up the same day the sign-up sheets were posted. Around the holidays, it wasn’t unusual for there to be a dozen people on the waiting list hoping for a spot to open up.
    Heather was a regular fixture on Mosaic Day. Most people took theirs home, but some donated them to