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“Hello,” came a pleasant and rumbly voice, tinged with a Scottish accent. “Is this Linden Ward?”

“It is.”

“I’m Ramsey Buchanan. I own the condo building. The management company passed along your message, and I’m returning your phone call.”

“Thanks for getting back to me,” I said.

“What can I do for you, Ms. Ward?”

“You have a problem with one of your security guards. Jerry, at the front desk.”

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t done anything illegal, but my mother paid him to spy on me. He’s not trustworthy, and he’s making me extremely uncomfortable being here.”

Ramsey paused on the other end of the phone and then finally said, “I’m sorry at the invasion of your privacy, and I’ll take care of this. Have a great day.”

He hung up on me, and I stared at the phone for a moment and then set it aside.

I left the apartment and drove to Folson’s, a luxury department store that rivaled Neiman Marcus. I walked into the building, breathing the crisp, circulated air. I wandered through the women’s department and found the escalator that would take me to the housewares section.

A stunning blonde greeted me the moment I stepped off the escalator. “May I help you find something?”

“Yes, actually,” I said. “I need an entire set of dishware. And while I’m at it, can you point me in the direction of sheets and linens?”

Thirty minutes later, I’d found several things I couldn’t live without. “Great choice on those bed linens,” Debbie, the saleswoman, said. “Let me see if I have a new set in the stock room for you, otherwise we might have to special order them.”

“Thanks,” I said with a genuine smile.

Debbie left me in the bedroom furniture showroom as she went to the back.

I took a seat on the four-poster bed and took my phone out of my purse. I dialed one of my closest friends, who still lived on the East Coast.

“Help,” I said the moment she answered the phone. “I’m about to buy the entire housewares department at Folson’s if you don’t stop me.”

“Why should I stop you? Folson’s is great,” Quinn said. “Crap. Helena just threw up on me. Yup, it went down my shirt. Hold on.”

I snorted.

“Okay, I’m back,” she said after a few moments. “Why are you at Folson’s anyway? Did you finally decide to decorate your condo? You really should consider buying, if you’re planning on staying in Dallas long term.”

“I don’t know if I plan on staying in Dallas,” I admitted.

“No? How are you liking the change of scenery?”

“I’m liking it.”

“So, no regrets about leaving Durham?”

“No. It was time.”

“Hmmm. So, let’s get back to why you’re at Folson’s and buying the entire store.”

“I broke every single dish in the condo.”

Quinn paused and then asked, “Did you?”

“Yes.”


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