“Sure.” Pushing aside worry about my increasing balance, I handed her my credit card, which she walked over to the front desk for processing. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to use my hands for a while, I peeked at my phone. There was a notification from OkCupid:

Your profile is about to become inactive. You haven’t been online in a bit, so we’ll stop showing your profile soon. Still want to connect? Log in today.

I slouched in my chair with a low whimper. Why had I allowed my hopes to soar that Finn could be more than a temporary hookup? Would I be chained to these hellish dating apps forever? If given the choice right now, I’d rather walk Main Street body-painted with nail polish than go on another blind date with a city boy, but I knew those pesky needs would rear their evil head at some point. For the sole purpose of keeping my profile active for when the time came, I opened the app and swiped left on the first two bios without even reading. Then I clapped my hands together to be done with it.

When Laura returned with my card, I pushed thoughts of sex, Finn, and sex with Finn to the side and beamed at her. “Your success story is super inspiring. Would you mind if I mentioned it in my piece?” I signed my name on the bill and leaned in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, I’m not sure what the story is about yet. I want to talk to some locals. Maybe other business owners’ dreams coming true in this relatively unknown town can be the common thread.”

Laura’s friendliness inspired confidence that others would do the same if I took my desperation down a notch. At this point, I put minimal stock in an angle involving Andrew Hanes, but I wouldn’t be a good journalist if I didn’t bring it up again in this more casual atmosphere. “Are you afraid a salon going up in The Hollows will affect your clientele?” Perhaps her original answer from the week before would change now that we’d bonded.

“Not really. These hands”—she wiggled them—“are magic.” Her eyes glinted. “I give the best manicure in Orange County, probably Dutchess too. I even have clients who drive in from Albany and Schenectady for my fillers!” She jutted her chin at my own newly sparkly nails. “You’ll see what I mean in a few weeks when this manicure is still going strong.”

My manicures were lucky to last five days before chipping. Whether the culprit was continuous tapping of computer keys or excessive sweating in my spin classes, I didn’t know. Either way, I kept my doubts to myself.