She snapped a piece off with her teeth, slapped it on the sign and rubbed it vigorously. She did the same three more times, ducking down in front of him to get the low corners, allowing him a glimpse directly into the cups of her black bra at the tops of her areolas before she turned and stood, catching him with a coy grin.

"Martin Savage, as I live and breathe."

"I wasn't sure you recognized me."

"Are you kidding? Small town boy makes good. I've read every one of your books. They're good. A tad salacious." She grinned again. "But good." She laughed, brushed a tress of hair over her ear and stuck out a hand. "I'm Nadine. You probably don't remember me—"

"We went to kindergarten together," he said, shaking her hand.

She smiled. "Wow. I'm impressed." She held his gaze a moment too long, looked down at their entwined hands and laughed again, letting go. "Look at me, gushing all over myself. I guess you must've seen my little shrine to you in the window there, huh?"

He grinned. "I could give you a lock of my hair if you need a holy relic."

Nadine laughed. "But then you'd have to worry if I'm gonna use it for a voodoo doll or to clone you from your DNA."

"Good point. You never know these days."

They shared an awkward smile.

"God, so what brings you back after all these years, Marty? I kind of thought you forgot all about little old Barrows Bay. You never mentioned it in your interviews." She rolled her eyes. "Not that I blame you. I mean, gawd. What's there to say, right?"

"That's a long story."

"Say no more. I know how the book market is." She chuckled, running the tip of a finger over her freckled collarbone. "Do I ever."

"It's not that, it's—wait, is that why you're closing up shop?"

"No, no. Business is as slow as ever. But that's also a long story."

"Well, maybe we can discuss our mutual woes in the book business over drinks."

As he said it her attention drifted toward the front windows, her brow furrowing.

"That old fucking cunt." She brushed past him, racing to the door, twisted the lock and jerked down the door shade.

Martin spotted the back of a mint 1959 pink Cadillac idling across the street, spewing black smoke. Then Nadine pulled the drapes down over the shopfront window, blocking it from view. Cracks of sunlight barely allowed him to see her face. She looked both frightened and angry.

"Is someone harassing you, Nadine?"

Yeah, harassed by her local Avon lady, he thought, berating himself.

She turned with fire in her eyes and her hands on her hips. "Do you wanna fuck me, Marty?"

"What? Like now?"

She unsnapped the buckles on her overalls and let the bib fall, exposing her bra and the slope of her breasts as she breathed quickly, anxiously. "Oh, Smartypants," she said, looking up into his eyes. "Do I really need to paint you a picture?"