Page 7 of A Fall to Remember

Miranda was about to climb the stepladder to reach the vintage candelabra-style chandelier in the front window when a soft knock sounded on the door.

She glanced outside.

An attractive man about her age with salt-and-pepper hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and glasses waved, motioning to the door, signaling that he wanted to be let in.

Miranda tapped her watch. Technically, they didn’t open for another half hour. And today, they were opening even later, so they could have a chance to prepare before the team at Voyager showed up. Miranda wanted to have everything ready and running smoothly. She’d changed the sign to note the weekend hours.

But the man was insistent. He knocked on the door and then looked back at her. Miranda squinted. He looked almost familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

Maybe the line at Brews and Views, a popular coffee shop and tourist hangout, was too long. Miranda hesitated. She’d already brewed a pot of their fall house roast with notes of toasted hazelnuts and a hint of cinnamon. One cup wouldn’t hurt. She held up a finger and grabbed the footstool. After she turned on the shimmering chandelier, she unlocked the front door and gasped as she got a close-up look at him.

The man was dressed professionally in dark gray slacks, loafers, a forest green puffy vest, and a stained shirt.

A stained shirt…

A coffee-stained shirt.

Oh, no.

It’s the guy from the airport.

Her heartbeat kicked up, pounding against her chest.

Had he tracked her down somehow?

But how?

Her thoughts ran while the man stood on the threshold, staring above him at the hand-painted sign with a smug smile tugging at the edge of his lips. “This is the Green Grocer, is that right?”

“Yep. That’s us. The Green Grocer.” Miranda nodded, trying to get a read on the stranger who had sent her stomach into a freefall. His strong features and sharp eyes were so familiar. Yes, this was definitely the guy from the airport. He didn’t exactly fit any of the tourist categories with his puffy vest and slacks. A satchel was slung over his left arm, like he was on his way to an office. But how had he possibly tracked her down? It didn’t make any sense. She gave her head a little shake, wondering if she was dreaming.

He just stood there, giving her a once-over. His crow’s-feet deepened as he smiled, waiting for her to do what? Invite him in? Buy him a coffee? A new shirt?

“I’m Miranda, by the way, proprietor of the Green Grocer.” She extended her hand. “Did we meet at the airport last week?” She gestured to the stained shirt. “I’m pretty sure I’m responsible for that, but I feel like maybe I’m dreaming because how in the world did you find me?”

“Funny story.” The man cracked a wide smile as he extended his. “I’m Jim. Jim Cole.”

“Oh, Jim. Jim Cole. Voyager Travel Jim.” How many times was she going to say “Jim”? She felt suddenly flustered. Maybe that explained the jolt of electricity that pulsed through her arm as their hands touched. The Voyager Team was already here? There was no turning back now. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting you until later. And, wait, we did meet, for lack of a better word, at the airport, right?”

“Small world.” Jim kept his grip on her hand, shaking it repeatedly as he met her eyes. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Miranda. Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I don’t care about this shirt at all, I promise.” He patted his satchel. “I have a clean one in my bag, but when I realized that my new client was the same woman I’d bumped into at the airport, I thought it might be funny to get a shirt made that read ‘I don’t know these people,’ but there wasn’t enough time. So you get coffee-stained me instead.” He winked, surveying the store with a quick glance.

Miranda smiled. “I’m such a klutz, there’s every chance I’ll throw another coffee at you, so it makes sense not to ruin a second shirt.” She gulped, aware that she was babbling. She wasn’t used to feeling self-conscious, but this very attractive man, holding her hand, was back to staring at her with the most intense, deep brown eyes. She inhaled quickly, trying to recover. “That is a small world to say the very least, but you’re also being very gracious because I’m sure I’m the one who bumped into you.”

“Nope. It was all me.” After what felt like minutes, but was probably only a few seconds, Jim finally released her hand. His face broke out into a huge smile. “You’re exactly as I remember. Exactly. Well, you weren’t wearing the smock, or is it an apron?”

Miranda smoothed down the front of her denim apron with its wide front pocket, feeling heat prickling at the base of her neck. The apron was perfect for storing scissors, tape, and anything she might need to wrap a package or tidy up a section of the store, but she wished she had taken more time to get ready this morning. She had intended to prep the store and then duck back to her cottage before Jim and Shelby arrived. Instead, she’d just tied her hair into a messy ponytail and tugged on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. “That’s me. Please, come in.” She stepped to the side to make way for Jim, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that her new contact at Voyager Travel was the same guy from the airport. What were the odds?

“I should explain. Your video landed on my desk, and I couldn’t figure out why you looked so familiar until it finally clicked.” He snapped his fingers. “And then I knew this was fate. You had to be our new influencer. I’ve been hoping to find someone like you for a while. I’m convinced the internet is ready for more authenticity, and I’m so glad my bosses have given me this assignment to try and prove my theory.” He paused to open his satchel and removed an old digital point-and-shoot camera. “The shop is perfect. Do you mind if I take a few shots? I’d love to just chat and get to know you while I take photos. I’ve found it’s more natural than starting off with a styled photo shoot. Our goal with this campaign is going to be bringing out the real you.”

“Not at all.” Miranda fiddled with her ponytail. She preferred to have her hair off her face while she worked, but she was suddenly conscious of her basic long-sleeved white T-shirt and practical tennis shoes. Why hadn’t she at least put on a little lip gloss or mascara?

Jim snapped pictures of the dining area, deli and pastry counter, and the grocery section. “Can I get you in a few of these?”

“Uh, sure. What do you want me to do?” Miranda adjusted the buckle on her apron. This was new territory. She tried to ignore the bubble of nerves in her stomach. What if this was a mistake? The main reason she agreed to any of this was Pete and Elise. They were so excited for her. It was hard not to get caught up in their enthusiasm, but now that reality was sinking in, Miranda wasn’t so sure. She wasn’t an influencer. She didn’t know how to pose or whether she had a good side or an angle that would best reflect her.

“Just do what you normally would do,” Jim said, gesturing toward the shop with his free hand. “I’m guessing you’re getting ready to open?”

“Yes. That’s right. We open at nine a.m.” Miranda hated that she sounded so formal.