Carol stopped brushing microscopic lint from her outfit and arched a thin brow. “What’s that? With a stranger?”

“Nothing happened,” Billie shrugged, “at least nothing to feed your libidos. We just talked is all.”

“About what?”

“Well . . . things.”

“Are you seeing him again?”

Billie just shook her head. “We were supposed to go out last night but he called and canceled at the last minute. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Deadbeat,” Carol said, offended. “Isn’t that just like a man, wheel into town and then back out, leaving a woman high and dry?”

“Whoa there,” Sharon warned, “both of you. You act like it’s been days instead of the roughly, what,” she checked her watch, “eighteen hours since he called? Give him time, Bill. He’s not on the clock, you know. He’ll call.” She leaned closer. “Or you could call him.”

Carol huffed. “Well, I wouldn’t. Men don’t like pushy women, Billie, take my word on that. Why, when I was seeing my husband Jim Gastineau, God rest his soul, I gave him a long leash, if you know what I mean, and sooner or later he’d come sniffing around. . . .”

“Roll up your pantlegs,” Sharon cautioned, “the shit’s getting deep. Remember, dear Giggy, that I was around back then. That man couldn’t take two steps that you didn’t have a bulldog headlock on him. The way I heard it, the poor sap only married you so he could get a little rest.” Carol inflated with indignation but Sharon held her at bay with a raised hand. “Billie, you do yourself a favor and go after him. There ain’t many in this town or anywhere else worth a hill of beans, but that one’s special. Take my word for it.” Then Carol couldn’t hold it in any longer and a storm rolled across the counter that probably showed up on the weather radar in Indianapolis.

“How dare you, Sharon Lou Moore, how can you set there and insinuate that I would blah blah blah . . .”

Billie tuned out the festivities. She’d heard it all before; Carol was a regular customer, coming in like clockwork every day to “wait for a potential buyer” who invariably never showed. Billie knew she was trying to rub her job in her old rival’s face, but Sharon seemed quite content with her own store and her job and took none of the other’s guff. So the friendly feud went on, week to week, and sometimes customers showed up for ringside stools just to listen to the meowing and hissing.

Billie’s eyes strayed to the door, though the bell hadn’t rung to attract her. Nonetheless, she found Chris Stiles standing in the doorway, watching her for a reaction before daring a smile of his own.