Chapter 8
The next morning when I entered the shop, I heard the familiar, mellifluous tinkle of the doorbell above my head. Before it even had a chance to dissipate, another melody from behind the cash register reached my ears, this one slightly off-key, yet also quite familiar.
“Eli’s got a boyfriend, Eli’s got a boyfriend.”
Heat flared in my cheeks. I had guessed my employee would figure things out soon enough regarding my personal life, but not this quickly. I gave her a sour look. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Bert, what are you, five years old?”
“More like seventy-five, kiddo.” She pointed to my face. “And tickled pinker than your cheeks.”
“And why is that, pray tell?”
“Because it’s finally happened. You’ve finally found someone! Eli’s got a boyfriend, Eli’s got a—”
“Oh, knock it off
