“I like a hard copy when we go over the numbers. I see things clearer when I have real paper in my hands,” he said, just like he did every three months at this meeting.

“Okay, then, let’s get started so we can be done at noon.” She nodded. “I bet you like a book in your hands better than a digital one, too, don’t you?”

“You got me.” He grinned.

He focused on everything Lauren said and even took a few notes to go over later, but in the back of his mind, all he could think about was Mitzi. He wanted to tell her about Rita coming to the office before the gossip spread through Celeste like wildfire. By the time he got home that evening, folks would have him and Rita making another trip to the courthouse.

The meeting lasted past noon, so Vivien brought in a light lunch for them, and they ate while they finished up. Lauren packed up her laptop and shook Graham’s hand. “I hear that you and your ex-wife are talking. It’s none of my business at all, but . . . well, just be careful.”

“May I ask why you’re saying that?”

“I knew her right after y’all’s divorce. My advice, for what it’s worth, is that if you do get back together that you make her sign a prenup, and that you get your company lawyer to draw it up.”

“Thank you, but there’s no way in hell I’m ever taking a chance with Rita again,” he said.

“That’s great news. See you in three months.” Lauren waved as she left.

He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Should things ever get really serious with Mitzi, would she be willing to sign a prenup?

Mitzi was walking across the parking lot to the party store when her phone pinged. The text was from Graham: Call me, please.

She sat down on a bench outside the store and made the call.

“Hello,” Graham said. “I’m glad you called back. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure. I’m in town to pick up part of the supplies for the bridal fair. What’s going on?” she asked.

“Could I meet you somewhere so we can talk in person?” he asked.

“I’m sitting on the bench outside the party store. It’s not far from you. Want to join me?”

“I’ll be there in five minutes. How do you take your coffee?”

“Black and strong, but I’d rather have a tall sweet tea,” she told him.

“I’ll stop by Starbucks on the way,” he said.

Five minutes didn’t give Mitzi enough time to get the supplies that they’d ordered for the bridal fair, check them to be sure everything was correct, and take them to her van. It did let her watch the people come and go, and that was something she’d always enjoyed, even as a child. When she’d go with her folks to the lake, she’d make up stories in her head about the people she saw, and she still did the same today.

An older couple, both gray haired, holding hands, and neither getting along with much speed, stopped for a moment and said hello to her before they entered the store. In her mind, they’d been married for more than sixty years. The lady had dark hair when she was young, and Mitzi imagined her wedding dress was white silk with a high neckline and butterfly sleeves.

A younger couple passed her next. They were arguing about the money the woman had spent on the decorations for their son’s first birthday party. Neither of them even looked her way. From the huge diamond on the woman’s finger, Mitzi would guess that the woman had worn a designer dress. The wedding had been huge, and then she found out that the man had spent all his money on the ring. The woman thought she was getting the lifestyle of the rich and famous, and then she realized that they were living on a shoestring and he still owed four years of payments on the ring.

The perfect dress, she thought. We’re in business to provide the perfect dress. Too bad it doesn’t always mean that we can guarantee that dress will bring them a wonderful life full of rainbows and unicorns.

She had no idea what Graham would be driving, but when she looked up and saw him getting out of an older-model pickup truck, she wasn’t surprised. It fit him more than a fancy new Caddy. He waved with one hand and lifted a four-cup holder in her direction. She couldn’t see anyone around him and wondered why he’d have four cups and not just two. Would someone else be joining them? If so, why?

“Good afternoon.” Graham sat down on the other end of the bench and put the drinks between him and Mitzi. “I got two iced teas for you. One for now and one for you to have on the trip back to Celeste. It’s good to see you, Mitzi.”

“Good to see you, too, and thank you for the teas.” She picked one up and took a long sip through the straw, relief washing over her because they would be alone. “You look tired. How’s your day been going?”

“Good in some ways. Had a meeting with the CPA about quarterly taxes, and everything about the business is stable and growing. But not so wonderful in others.” He took a coffee from the holder and sipped it. “Rita came to the office again. She’s like a wart. Just when I think I’m finished with her, she shows up again. What do you suggest I do?”

“Go to the doctor and have it surgically removed.” Mitzi wasn’t sure at that moment whether she was his girlfriend, his friend, or his therapist.

“How do you do that?”

“Shoot her, I guess,” Mitzi said. “I don’t think wart remover comes in a big enough bottle.”