The woman—Shale, her name tag said—waved that off as she moved toward the dessert case. “So, are you here for the… beach?” she asked, glancing at my get-up.
I didn’t know there was a beach.
But I wouldn’t mind seeing it.
That, at least, would be a safe place to visit for me.
“No. I’m just passing through, really.” It wasn’t a lie. “I was hoping to connect with an old friend. But I have no idea how to find him.”
“Oh, yeah? Who are you looking for? I can’t claim to know everyone in town. But I’ve met a lot of them.”
“His name is Nave,” I explained.
“Nave?” Shale asked, popping up to look at me with a raised brow and a more appraising look.
“Yeah, I knew him a long while back when he was… passing throughmytown. He mentioned meeting up if I ever passed through his. But I lost his number.”
Okay, that was a lie.
There had been no way for him to give me his number.
In retrospect, I was pretty sure that was why he’d mentioned the name of his hometown so many times. Back then, I thought it was just homesickness making him say it so often. And maybe that was part of it. But now I thought it was so that he was sure I could never forget it.
“You lucked out. He moved back to town a few years ago. And he can almost always be found at the same place.”
Shale walked up to the counter, putting the brown pastry bag down, then tapping in the order.
I reached for the cash and passed it to her.
“Where’s that?” I asked, keeping my tone light and breezy, not wanting to come off as some crazy ex or stalker.
“The Henchmen clubhouse.”
Shale passed me my change.
“On the main strip,” she explained. “Long, low building. Big fence. Tons of bikes. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.” The smile was genuine and I just hoped she didn’t see the relief in it.
“Of course. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. Both of you,” she added with a little smile toward my purse.
“Sorry,” I said, wincing. “It’s too hot to leave her in the car.”
“Don’t be. I would bring my dog in here every day if I could. She’s not walking on the floor or anything. I don’t mind. Can I get a peek at her?”
I was quick to unzip the bag, and Edith was just as quick to pop her tiny head out.
“Oh. My. God. She’s so precious.”
“She is. I mean, she’s incredibly high maintenance, but the cutest thing ever.”
“Okay. Hold on,” Shale said, scurrying over toward the case again. When she came back, there was another pastry bag, seemingly full. “Doggy cookies. She clearly deserves all of them. On the house.”
“Thank you. She will love them.” Edith’s nose was already wiggling as she sniffed hard.
“Hope you can find Nave. He’s a good guy.”
I was praying that was true as I made my way back to the car, setting Edith down on the passenger seat with one of her fancybaked cookies before opening my own bag. To find Shale had given me the full-sized chocolate croissant.
