“I don’t know about that.” He looked down at the table, scraping at a spot there. “You’re pretty young to be talking in nevers.”

I thought of my father, back in his kitchen. “Some people would say disappointment is a good thing to learn young.”

“True,” he agreed. “But some people are assholes.”

I smiled. “I seem to remember you calling yourself that, not too long ago.”

“True. So you don’t have to listen to anything I say, either,” he said. “But for what it’s worth, Emaline, I’ll tell you this: Life is long. Just because you don’t get your chance right when you want or expect it doesn’t mean it won’t come. Fate doesn’t punch a time clock or consult a schedule. Look at me. Forty-two and talking about showing my art again. Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Which is probably just why it did,” I said.

He pointed at me. “Smart girl.”

So now it was a consensus. Too bad I still felt like a victim of my own dumb luck. Speaking of which, right then, Ivy walked through the door.

“Well, there’s an entire working afternoon shot,” she said, as if she’d been carrying on this conversation without us prior to her arrival. She walked over to the counter, peering across it at the cooler on the other side. “You’d think I would learn. This is what happens when you don’t hire professionals. You sell beer here, right?”

“No,” Clyde said.

“You’re kidding.” She exhaled dramatically. “That is so unfortunate. Because I really need a drink right now.”

I glanced at the door she’d just come through. “Where’s Theo?”

She held up her hand, palm facing me. “Don’t say that name to me right now. Especially if there is truly no beer here.”

“There’s a bar across the street,” Clyde told her. “The margaritas suck. But they are powerfully strong.”

“You had me at margarita,” she replied, turning on her heel. “Let’s go.”

Clyde and I looked at each other, and he got out of the booth. “The woman wants a drink,” he said with a shrug. “As a Southern gentleman, I must oblige.”

Ivy was already halfway out the door, the sun now slanting through into the dark room, making the dust in the air dance.

“Do you need me to lock up or something?” I called after Clyde.

“Nah. Just shut the door tight if you leave,” he replied. Which, in downtown Colby at least, counted as a basic security measure. Add an actual lock or alarm system, and you were in full-on bunker mode, as far as anyone was concerned.

Now, alone, I looked at my watch: it was ten after six. Something was definitely up. I picked up my phone and texted Theo. A moment later, he replied.

Change of plans. Boardwalk and bikes in ten.

Bikes, I thought. Well, that explained the flat shoes. I told him I was on my way and left, giving the door a good yank behind me.

It was still early for the boardwalk, the crowds a mix of people wrapping up a day at the beach—toting bags, umbrellas, floats, and pink-cheeked children—and those out for an early dinner. I picked my way through the crowd, towards Abe’s Bikes. About halfway there, a beefy guy in a tight black T-shirt thrust a piece of bright pink paper at me.

“Ladies’ night at Tallyho!” he said. “Quarter shots! Bring a friend for the most fun on the beach!”

I shook my head—no, no—dodging around him. As I passed Clementine’s, I looked in the open door to see Auden and Maggie folding jeans at a clearance table. They waved, gesturing for me to come in, but I motioned up ahead, mouthing I’d see them later. I had just caught sight of Theo.

He was in front of Abe’s, wearing his sport coat and jeans, scanning the crowd. Awfully dressy for a bike date, I thought. I didn’t see the bags at his feet until I was right in front of him.

“There she is!” he said, stepping forward and picking me up off the ground, one big swoop. Startled, I lost a shoe. I heard it hit the ground with a thwack. “Ready for our Best Outside Date Ever That Has Now Become Even More Epic?”

“Um, yeah,” I said, trying to gracefully find my footing again. Behind him, Wallace, who worked at the shop, was standing next to a pair of bikes, watching us with a bemused expression. “Are you okay?” I asked Theo.

“Fantastic.” He put me down, then smiled at me. His cheeks were flushed, a faint sweat visible on his brow. “Just had the biggest blow-up with Ivy. Whew! You should have seen her. She was livid.”

“Are those yours?” I asked, looking down at the large duffel and backpack on the ground between us.

“Yep. Got thrown out.” He laughed. “That was part of the whole livid thing.”

“She threw you out?” I asked.

“I’ll explain everything. Let’s just ride first, okay?” He turned to Wallace, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “So that’s . . . two-hour rental for the bikes, right? And I can leave this big bag behind the counter?”

“Sure,” Wallace said. Theo handed him a few bills. “Let me get your change.”

“Keep it,” he told him. Then he took the smaller bike and wheeled it closer to me. “Your chariot awaits.”

Wallace looked at me again. I was pretty sure I knew what he, all the guys at the shop, and everyone at Clementine’s would be talking about after work that night. If not the second we were out of sight.