The air was still chilly but the promise of spring popped up like daffodils on a warm day. While I washed off the sweat from my jog, I thought about Spencer's assignment. How much of a coincidence was it that out of all the weekends, this was when he wanted me to explore the story on Violetta. Why out of all the places she could've stayed, she showed up at my hotel. And out of all the hotel rooms, she was assigned the one next to mine.

But that didn't matter. At least...not until I had more information to go on.

The steam of the shower brought a sleepy buzz back to my eyes; all the more reason to go out and get a pick-me-up for lunch.

And this time, it would be a mango smoothie no matter what anyone else tried to do or say.

I walked away from the hotel in the direction of the shops, just about a quarter of a mile down the road. My hair was just barely still damp from the shower. The tiny hotel hair dryer was no match for my thick dark locks, so I managed to use as much power on it as possible before toweling the rest of it dry.

The downtown was quiet, but still quite a few people milled about. In the center of town was a fountain. On warmer days, the tiny sprinklers embedded in the bricks would spit out water for children and adults alike to splash around in. But since it was only February, the only sounds were from the steady rise and fall of the flow of water inside of the fountain.

The lunch place I was looking for was just beyond, tucked between a shoe repair and a nail salon.

The Sweet Escape: Smoothies, Sandwiches & More, the sign flashed in neon pink. A bell dinged over the door as I entered, and I was greeted by the sweetness of fruit and the savory aroma of freshly toasted sandwiches and quiches.

"Reagan!" the woman behind the counter greeted me. Her blonde hair sported grey streaks and her plump arms reached out toward me for a hug. "Haven't seen you in a minute, darlin'. What has my favorite Southerner been up to these days?"

I smiled. "Good to see you, April. I finally gifted myself a vacation. Can you believe it?"

"My stars, it's finally happened." April clutched dramatically at her chest then let out a laugh. "You deserve the rest, Reagan. After Marianne ended your engagement..." she trailed off, clicking her tongue.

The only downside to running into old friends was opening up old wounds.

"She wasn't wrong to end it," I said. "We're both moving on in our own ways." Still, the mention of my ex did little to ease the tension that bubbled up in my throat.

April shook her head. "Hell of a thing to do. But! Enough about her. Come, let me buy you lunch."

"That's sweet, but you don't have to do that. I was actually going to just take a smoothie to go."

She nodded. "A busy day for a busy woman. I see how it is." April walked back behind the counter and typed something out on the cash register. "Mango Twist, right?"

"My favorite." I beamed.

April offered me a toasted ham and cheese on ciabatta bread to go with my smoothie, then rang up the purchase. Despite my protests, she paid for the meal herself, claiming the 'friends and family' discount. I argued that 'discount' usually meant still paying something.

"The way you can pay me is by coming back sooner than two years," she said. "Don't be a stranger. See you around." April gave me one final hug before I left.

I thanked her for the purchases, promising it wouldn't be so long between visits next time, then went back to the fountain to eat. The toasted sandwich was just what I needed to pair with my smoothie. The sun had warmed the air even more since the lunch shop, so it felt good to sit outside.

When I finished my sandwich and, much to my disappointment, drained ninety percent of my smoothie, I walked over to Flare & Solstice for some well-deserved retail therapy. And of course, research for Hayden. Row upon row of clothes in every color and style imaginable greeted me the moment I stepped through the door.

It was clothing heaven.

I headed for one of the racks that sported sleeveless high turtleneck sweaters. My gaze gravitated toward the pink tops. I picked up a hanger for a soft rose-colored top and held it up to my body, glancing at my reflection in the mirror at the end of the aisle.

"That color really suits you," a voice commented. Violetta stood behind me with several hangers perched over two of her slim fingers. She wore a large brimmed hat that covered most of her face to avoid recognition from the typical passer-by.

Inwardly, I groaned. She was like a mango pit: stubborn and impossible to avoid.

"You think so?" I turned around to face her, keeping hold of the sweater against my body.

She nodded and stepped forward. "The pink complements your tanned complexion well. Pair it with some ripped jeans and brown boots and..." Violetta brought her fingers to her lips for a mock kiss.

I cocked my head to the side, imagining how that would look like put together. "Flare or bootcut?"

Violetta smiled. "Let's see what we can find."

Together we roamed the racks of the store, the clank of hangers a soothing aesthetic for an equally as comforting environment.

In this moment, we were two acquaintances exploring the same racks together, as if last night and this morning never happened. 

We settled on a pair of medium wash bootcut jeans with minimal distressing and dark brown ankle boots. Then Violetta pushed me toward the dressing room.

"Go try it on!" she urged. "If I'm helping you with your fashion choices, you have to at least test it out."

I chewed on my lip. "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? This morning you wanted nothing to do with me." I hoped this wouldn't set her off, but I needed to know.

Violetta cocked her head to the side. "This morning was a lapse in judgement on my part. I'm...sorry for what I said. It wasn't fair to you, especially after you helped me so much." She tucked one ankle behind the other. "Can we call a truce to start over?"

"Truce." I nodded.

"So," she said, her eyes filled with excitement. "Will you try on the clothes?"

"Okay, on one condition." I waited for her approval for me to continue. "You have to get something too. That's my one rule when it comes to clothes shopping. It's a tradition I—well, it's something I like to do."

"Wow, it must be so great to have the option to shop alone. I don't even get to dress myself alone most of the time," Violetta said, winking at me.

I blushed. "About that...I'm sorry for the comment about your team and dressing yourself."

"Don't worry about it. God knows I've said my share of awful comments. And for that, too, I'm sorry." She squeezed my arm. "Look at us, empowered women empowering other women."

"It's what we do best."

Violetta nodded. "Let's do it then."

Once more, we wandered through the store after agreeing we would only try on the outfits once Violetta found her own perfect combination. We shoved clothes at one another, teasing silly looks with sunglasses, scarves, wide-brimmed hats, whatever we could get our hands on.

Even spending just a few minutes with her, it was clear our tastes were complementary. While I went for a sleeveless top and covered neck, she went for covered shoulders and tastefully emphasized cleavage.

"On three," Violetta called from her dressing room after we returned to finally try on our outfits.

"One," I said.

"Two."

"Three." We emerged, grinning as we stood side-by-side in the paneled mirrors by the fitting rooms.

Violetta settled on a grey deep v-neck top with a black wraparound mini skirt. Just for try-on purposes, she added a pair of knee-high boots.

"What do you think?" she asked, fiddling with her hair. She'd undone the twist and was now playing with the style.

"May I?" I gestured to her hair.

She nodded and parted her hair down the middle. I curled my fingers around each section, twisting slightly before letting her auburn locks cascade in slight waves over her shoulders.

My fingers brushed lightly against the exposed skin by her collarbone, and I swallowed. "There, perfect."

She held up her phone, angling it so we were both in the camera frame, then beckoned to me. "Don't be shy, I want photographic evidence of this moment. My first real shopping trip in god knows how long."

I paused. Did she really want me in the photo? "Okay," I said finally. I stood by her side. The height difference was only a few inches, me the taller one of us, but she still wrapped an arm around my waist.

Her fingers brushed my sensitive skin, sending tingles down my spine. She pulled away.

"Oh, sorry. Is that ok? Or should I not...?" she asked, her lips pulling into a frown.

"No, no, it's fine. It's not you, I'm just ticklish," I told her. It seemed stupid, such a trivial thing. I liked the closeness, the touch of another person even in friendly moments. But they always seemed to pull away at the reaction.

She returned her arm to my waist, pulling me closer. Angling the camera, she snapped a few photos of us. Then we exchanged numbers so she could text me the photos.

Violetta beamed at our reflections in the mirror. "You look incredible."

"Thanks. I'm not much of a fashion expert, that's Hayden's department. Literally." I said.

"Hayden's your boyfriend?"

I tensed at the question. Hayden and I spent so much time together, that was usually the assumption. And although happily married, his wife often lent him out to me when we'd go for drinks when I was on the rebound from Marianne. He served as one hell of a wingman. "It's complicated. He's not my boyfriend, but we've hooked up once. In college. It was just one of those things, you know?"

Violetta nodded. "I know how it is. Complicated relationships, the hookups. And then on the fashion side of things—I wear all these designer clothes, but none of it excites me. This"—she gestured to our reflections—"is what I enjoy about fashion. Letting your hair down instead of having a team of five pulling and gelling and spraying it every which way."

"I can't even imagine." I glanced at her in the mirror as we walked back into the fitting rooms. What the world saw of Violetta Dawson was the image of what the media wanted her to be, not who she actually was.

What I wanted to know, who was the real Violetta Dawson?

I changed back into my regular clothes, carrying the new ones in my arms.

"Dammit," Violetta cursed when she emerged, glaring at her phone. "Rea, I'm so sorry. My publicist is going to kick my sorry ass if I don't meet him back at the hotel."

"That doesn't sound fun. But good luck, especially if I don't get to see you again." My heart hammered in my chest. There was so much more I wished to know, but maybe it was best we left each other here and on good terms.

Violetta started to walk toward the front entrance, only to be spotted mere moments later with the flash of a camera.

"Aw hell," she muttered, ducking behind a stack of clothing.

"Here, give me your hat and sunglasses," I said, reaching out for them. I'd already donned a dark red synthetic wig from the cosplay aisle, discarding the box on the ground and hoping the store would forgive me. "When they spot me, make a run for it."

"Are you sure?" Her hazel eyes filled with concern as she chewed her glossed lip.

"Positive, now go!" I shoved her toward the exit before making my own appearance in the opposite direction.

"It's her! I knew it, I knew it!" a voice called out, followed by several additional shrieks and flashes of hidden cameras.

She glanced back toward me, mouthing a 'thank you'.

I dipped my head in a small nod, hurrying as best I could toward the door marked "Emergency Exit Only". With the alarm blaring overhead, I rushed out of the store and into the alley.

My heart hammered hard against my chest and I let out a small laugh. I couldn't believe that had actually worked! There weren't any additional squeals or shaky finger points as I ducked back onto the street.

No one seemed to pay me any attention as I returned to the fountain, carrying the wig and the sunglasses in Violetta's hat. I would have to go back and pay for it, but chances were I was going to be not welcomed anymore.

I sent a quick text off to Hayden to give him the results of my shopping trip.

F&S was a success turned chaotic experiment, I said. Locking my phone, I picked the hat up and started the walk back to the hotel.

Hayden replied a few minutes later: Spill the 🍵 Reags!

My fingers moved swiftly across the screen as I kept my gaze on the street in front of me so that I wouldn't trip over my feet.

So get this...