of posole and rice, which tasted like sawdust—I walked by Trudy’s. She was closed, getting ready for the dinner rush, but I waved to her through the window and she motioned for me to come in.
“How’s tricks, Matt?” she asked.
“Okay.”
“You seem blue. That’s not like you.”
“Nah. I’m good.”
“Ha! I’ve known you for too long. What’s going on?”
Telling her I’d fallen for a woman in two days and that she’d left without a trace made me sound ridiculous, so I just said, “You’re imagining things.”
“If you say so. Want some iced tea or something?”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
She headed to the kitchen and came back with two iced teas and then gestured to a table. “Sit.”
“Something smells great. What’s on for tonight?”
“Coq au vin. I got a shipment of burgundy yesterday, so I’m making good use of it.”
“Awesome. Maybe I’ll come by for dinner.” If I was hungry, that was.
“Great! Bring your lady friend.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “You mean Riley? She’s gone.”
“Oh? I thought she was here for the week.”
“She was. Her plans changed, apparently.”
“So that’s what’s got you down in the dumps.”
I took a long sip of iced tea. “Don’t be silly.”
“I could tell the other night you had it pretty bad.”
“I’d just met her the other night.”
“So? Don’t you believe in love at first sight?”
I scoffed, nearly spitting out tea. “Of course not.”
“I do,” she said. “And trust me. That look on your face the other night? I’ve seen it before.”
“On me?”
“Hell, no, not on you. Matt Rossi the heartbreaker. Usually on women you bring in.”
“And this time?”
“I saw it on you.”
“I’ll say it again, Trudy.” I finished my tea and stood. “You’re imagining things. Thanks for the drink.”
“Anytime. See you tonight for supper?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I walked to the door and walked back out onto the street.
Love at first sight. What a crock.
I walked past Bess’s antique shop. Hmm. We’d never ventured in there. I’d meant to, but then Riley tripped and dropped her purse.
Her cigarettes. I’d admonished her for smoking.
Strange. I’d been with her nearly nonstop for two days and I’d never seen her light up.
Very strange indeed.
A few doors down stood the flower shop. I’d bought her a pink rose…which she’d subsequently thrown on the ground and trampled. But she apologized, and I forgave her.
At the time, I’d have forgiven her anything.
Could I forgive her for leaving?
A moot question, to be sure. If I never found her, I couldn’t forgive her. So I’d find her first, and then I’d decide whether to forgive her.
I opened the door to the flower shop, ringing the bell attached to the handle.
“Just a minute,” Kari called from the back.
“It’s just me,” I said. “Matt.”
“Oh, hey, Mattie. Be right out. I need to talk to you.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Give me a minute.”
“Okay.”
What did Kari need to talk to me about? Probably had a job for me. I’d fixed some plumbing for her in the past and made some repairs to her refrigeration unit. Great. I could use the cash.
I perused the flowers she had available today. Front and center was a large vase full of pink roses, just like the one I’d given Riley.
Fuck.
I looked away quickly and checked my watch. A minute passed. Then another. Finally, Kari came bustling out front, rubbing her hands together.
“Thanks for waiting. Did you need anything today, Mattie?”
“No. Just came in to say hi.”
“I’m glad you did. I have something I want to show you.”
“What?”
She walked behind the counter. “Remember when you came in with that woman and I said she looked familiar?”
“Yeah.”
“I figured out why.” She pulled a magazine out from under the counter and set it down. “Take a look.”
My heart raced and I widened my eyes. It was a copy of something called Elle, and on the glossy cover was none other than—
“Riley.”
“Yup. That’s why she looked so familiar to me. She’s a supermodel, Mattie. Riley Wolfe.”
“I’ve never heard of her.”
“Doubtless because you don’t keep up with women’s fashion and makeup. She’s huge. The daughter of a billionaire named Derek Wolfe.”
“Now him I’ve heard of.”
“Yeah. Everyone has. He just died recently. Big murder case in New York.”
I mouth dropped open. “Her dad is dead?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my God. She must be distraught. No wonder she…”
“She what?”
“She went home. She left early from her vacation. But why would she…?”
“Why would she what?”
Why would she use a fake name? I didn’t ask the question. Kari wouldn’t know the answer anyway, except it was becoming obvious to me. She’d wanted to escape for a short time. Escape the sadness and