“What happened?” Her eyebrows lift.
Shaking my head, I pout. “I got a ticket.”
“No way!” She slaps her thigh. “How’d that feel?”
“Horrible! And guesswhostopped me.“ My mouth presses into a tight line.
“The hot deputy?”
“My luck is impeccable.”
“Maybe you should play the lottery.” She opens the door to the shop, and I walk in.
“Should I play lucky number thirteen?” I quip.
“It could work.” She smiles.
“Sorry I’m late. You could’ve started looking around without me.”
“It’s okay. I need your eye for design.”
Dani recently bought her first home, and she wants a whole new look than her previous decor. In her eyes, I belong on HGTV decorating houses. I’m not that great of a decorator, but it’s so much fun to mix and match different styles to create a unique one that fits someone’s personality. If I made more money, I’d be like those women I see on social media videos that redo their decor every few months to match the season. All my savings is going to grad school though.
“So, how was Mr. Hot Deputy? Hot as ever?” Dani asks as we browse, breaking me from my thoughts. She chuckles when I side-eye her.
“Unfortunately, yes. Fortunately for me, I didn’t look like a hot mess this time.” I wave a hand in front of me.
The first time we met, I was in scrappy pajamas and a bruise on my leg with my bun falling off the side of my head.
“You do look cute today. Maybe you were the bright part of his workday. You getting a ticket is all a sacrifice to make his day better.” She holds up a vase.
“You’re ridiculous.” I grab the vase and hold it out in front of me. It’s a matte white cylinder with a narrow neck that would look great with pampas grass.
“I like this.” I nod in approval.
“I can put it on my bookshelf. It’d even be pretty without flowers.”
“I agree. I love the boho feel of it,” I tell her.
We continue to shop, adding an eclectic combination of home decor into the shopping cart. I’m distracted by the memory of Nate attempting to joke. His lips didn’t even quirk to give away that it was laced with humor. The man needs a lesson in joke-telling. Not that I’m any good at it. My idea of jokes is at a seven-year-old level.
My students think I’m funny. Adults do not.
“Earth to Lizzy?” Dani is looking at me expectantly. Her eyebrows have climbed into her hairline.
“Huh?” I look at her with wide eyes.
“You look like you’ve left our planet and are traveling in a different universe.”
“Sorry. I was thinking.” I shake my head and look at what she’s holding.
“What do you think about this for the living room?”
I look at the abstract flower painting and scrunch up my nose.
“I don’t like it.” I purse my lips apologetically.
“Too colorful?”