“That’s not proper etiquette,” Candice says, who certainly knows her way around etiquette. Probably better than I do.

“Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe he doesn’t understand the basic rules of etiquette.” I tip my head to the side. “You never know what you’re dealing with. He could go rogue.”

“Perhaps.” Candice taps her finger against her pursed lips. “But I’m willing to take the chance. You should be too. I think he’d be good for you. A breath of fresh air, and we all know you need it.”

My friends chime in with their agreement, which makes me feel good but also…

Makes me feel down and out too. I was on such a roller coaster in my relationship with my ex. The ups were far fewer than the downs near the end, and I was constantly threatening to break up with him, yet I never did. Or I always forgave him and took him back.

I stuck by his side far longer than I should’ve. And that’s on me.

I think of Candice’s suggestion long after I’ve come home from the bar. I ponder the possibilities as I straighten up around my already tidy apartment. While I take a shower. Afterwards, as I lather on my special face cream that keeps my skin glowing. While I brush my teeth.

I’m so wrapped up in thoughts of the mysterious Jonesie, I even dream about him, though I have no clue what he actually looks like. In my dream though, he’s short and very hairy, and he chases me around the tree farm like some sort of deranged psychopath. I keep screaming, Jonesie! Jonesie!

As I try to flee, I fall straight into the arms of the man who ran into me at the tree lot. He grabs hold of me, but this time he doesn’t let go. He’s got that baseball cap on, wearing it backwards, which I found oddly appealing when he did that at the store; and when he leans down and whispers close to my ear, “You’re safe.”

…I nearly melt.

I wake up with a startled gasp, my body drenched with sweat, and I almost laugh at myself.

Clearly Stella’s joke about having ridiculous sex with someone named Jonesie seeped into my subconscious, and popped into my dream in a completely different way. Let’s just face facts.

Stella’s right. I can’t be with a man named Jonesie, even if it is something casual. Besides, I don’t do casual. That word isn’t a part of my vocabulary. I’m a serious girl, living in a material world.

Great, and now I’m quoting Madonna songs wrong.

With a huff, I roll over on my side and close my eyes, desperate to go back to sleep. I have to wake up in less than three hours. Work will be busy today. People shop earlier for Christmas every single year, and this one is no exception. And while we don’t have as much foot traffic as we used to, my older brother Palmer has been in charge of working on our website and our social media presence. Something he most definitely excels at, thank goodness. Business has picked up online almost fifty percent over last year.