He had on his usual slightly mismatched coat-shirt-tie combo, so I figured he’d just come from work. She was tall with high-school-length blond hair, and had on jeans and a sweater. They were standing in the accessories department, in front of a display of scarfs, hats, and gloves. She was giggling and making a big show of handling the merchandise, and Shuman looked completely enthralled, as if he’d never seen a knit hat in his entire life. Then it hit me. Oh my God, was this the girl Shuman had been talking to on the phone the day I’d met him outside Starbucks at the Galleria when he’d seemed positively giddy? Was this Shuman’s new girlfriend? I froze—completely abandoning my stealth approach—and looked harder at her. She was young—I mean, really young, like maybe not even twenty yet. Shuman caught sight of me and turned, and I saw the same big goofy grin on his face I’d seen at the Galleria. “Hi, Haley,” he said. He took her elbow and turned her toward me. “This is Brittany.”
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