A smile wound up her face and Lexi flipped her long hair behind her shoulder. “Ah, you mean Mr. Mysterious. Where did you run into Reno?”
“Oh, we didn’t speak. He was walking outside a store.”
“Did he talk to you?”
What she really wanted to know was if I went flying over a newspaper stand or knocked an old lady down.
“No, I was in the car.”
Lexi folded her arms. “What car? You don’t have one.”
“Trevor’s. He’s a close friend of mine. He’s been in the store a few times. You complimented his belt and he liked that. Nobody ever notices stuff like belts and it was one of his favorites.”
“Yeah… I remember now. The belt is probably the first thing I notice on a guy, kind of a habit. He was pretty cool—sexy from what I recall, but polite. You two, uh…” She pursed her lips and her eyes slid down.
“Jeez, Lexi. Can’t I just have a male friend and it not be a thing?” I peeled off my shoes and tossed them to the side. “You better grab those sandals for me; I don’t want to keep our customers waiting.”
Her smile waned. “Charlie made a good choice hiring you, April. Thanks for not bailing on me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I sat on the bench, watching Lexi cut through the store.
When Charlie died, he’d left her a mess of legal documents to sort through. Lexi had e-mailed me some of the files since she wasn’t sure what she was looking at. I’d found the inventory records as well as the vendors he worked with. Over the past few nights—perhaps out of boredom—I’d been examining those files a little closer. There were odd withdrawals in the account I couldn’t find any explanation for. Maybe it was for charity, but it was always the same amount every time. Lexi had been given access to his house to pick up a set of keys and anything else she needed. Charlie had left a comment in his will that everything in the office was hers for the taking. She’d found a ledger, files, and a few extra flash drives I’d copied to my computer. It felt good to know she trusted me—partly because of my education, but mostly because Charlie had always touted that I was going to make waves someday with my skills.
He was the closest I’d had to a father figure in a long time. I’d enjoyed our afternoon conversations in the shop before he started working more from home. Charlie had a great laugh and loved to talk about history. My real dad was the most amazing man I’d ever known, but he’d died in a car accident when I was fifteen.
“I think that’s a sexy look; barefoot really works for you.”
I glanced up at Denver. He smiled at my feet and nibbled on his bottom lip. My first reaction was to pull my legs under the bench since I hadn’t painted my toenails that week and the blue polish was chipping.
I frowned when I noticed his cupped hand holding a colorful assortment of sour candy.
“Where are your shoes?” he asked.
I tipped my head toward the corner of the room and he noticed the dirty pile.
“So you walk to work. No car?”
“The transmission died. At least, that’s what the mechanic told me. I don’t know anything about cars except how to turn them on.”
“Hmm,” he pondered, popping a green candy into his mouth with a sly smile. “I’d say knowing how to turn something on is pretty important.”
Dang, I was staring. I lowered my eyes to his flat sneakers and noticed his legs. He had on a pair of knee-length cargo shorts and jeez, what calves! Denver must have spent time outside because he had a warm tan and strong legs. His frame was average, but he filled out just right.
“Are you here to save the day again?”
“I might,” he contemplated, nibbling another piece of candy and staring at my legs.
“Denny! Lexi said I could have a bag of candy, but I can’t reach the big round ones,” a blond-haired girl whined, tugging at his shirt.
“No hard candy, Peanut,” he said in a firm voice. “What did I tell you about that?”
“But it doesn’t hurt.” She pointed at her new missing tooth.
Denver rubbed a worried look off his face.
I’d met Maizy a couple of times; she was Lexi’s six-year-old little sister with a candy obsession. She was charming and sweet, so I couldn’t help but sneak a piece to her now and again. Maizy appeared so innocent compared to some of the kids who wandered in our store. She sometimes played by herself in a corner while her mom talked to Lexi, and a few times she’d brought in a wand. It seemed a little immature for her age, but I found it endearing. It’s a sad day when children realize magic doesn’t exist and they have to grow up.
“Hi, Miss April.”
“Hi, sugar. You’re getting so tall,” I said with a dramatic gasp. “You grow faster than a wildflower!”
She laughed and ran back into the shop.
“You’re good with kids,” he said, complimenting me.
“Is she okay?”