Before she could spend any more time thinking, she grabbed her purse and phone and headed for the door. Not wanting to lose her nerve, she kept her head down as she walked through town. On the way, she passed Tiffany’s new store, Naughty & Nice, housed in the former home of Abby’s Attic. She experienced a profound wave of regret at seeing another store where hers had done so well. However, she loved Tiffany and wished her all the best with her new store.

“Abby?”

Speaking of Tiffany, she approached Abby on the sidewalk, holding a coffee in one hand and a bank deposit pouch tucked under her other arm. As always, Tiffany looked stylish and amazing in an eye-popping orange print dress that made Abby feel like a dowdy frump next to her.

“I thought that was you! I didn’t hear you were home.”

Abby gave her a quick hug. “The store looks great, Tiffany. I hear you’ve made a tremendous success of it.”

“After a few bumpy weeks, it seems to be catching on.”

“Congratulations. I never had a doubt that you’d be great at it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. I was filled with doubts. So how’s Cal?”

“That’s…um…over.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard that either.”

Abby shrugged off the pain and disappointment. It’d been over months ago, if she were being truthful, so every day seemed to get a little easier.

“Do you have time to come in and take a look at the store?”

Even though she was anxious to get to the tattoo place, she was curious about what had become of her store. “I’d love to.”

Abby followed Tiffany into a space that in no way resembled Abby’s Attic. Where her store had been sweetness personified, Tiffany’s was all about sex—and in some cases, raunchy sex. Abby’s senses were overwhelmed by the scents, the textures, the sheer volume of choices. “It’s incredible, Tiff. Truly.”

“You really think so?”

“I do. I love it.” Abby didn’t say what she really thought—that the store brought home all the many ways she felt inadequate as a woman. She’d have no idea where to begin among the many choices Tiffany had provided for her customers. She was lost in a sea of femininity.

“Why do you look so sad?”

Startled by Tiffany’s astute assessment, Abby forced herself to make eye contact with the other woman. “I feel out of my league in here.”

“How so?”

Abby ran her fingers over a lacy garter belt and nodded. “I’ve never been one for sexing things up.”

“Well, isn’t that too bad? A body like yours ought to be shown off.”

Abby uttered a most unladylike snort of laughter. “Sure.”