Jess demanded as she came through the front door of the boutique, two drinks in her hands, each one covered with a lid, a straw poking out of the top. “We brought lunch,” Liza said as she followed Jess in, carrying her own drink and a large brown bag practically bursting at the seams with what smelled to be juicy hamburgers and salty fries from the diner across the street. Setting aside the sheet of stickers she was using to add sales prices to some of her inventory, she sighed and asked, “Who told you?” The other women set the cups and sack on the cashier’s desk as Ginger dragged two armchairs over and positioned them on the opposite side of hers, all three boasting the same richly colored wood as the other furniture and round backs with plush ecru insets and seats. Jess plopped down and said, “We were just at the diner. Melodie was taking our order when she told us. She also said she hadn’t seen you come out of your shop all day—she and the other girls have been keeping an eye on your door, looking out for you.
