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“This is Olivia Benson.” He motions to me and then to Marlene. “Olivia, this is Marlene Jacobs.”
“You two seem friendly,” she says, her mouth still wearing that Joker-sized grin.
“We are new neighbors. Olivia inherited Amelia’s house.” Logan’s explanation doesn’t miss a beat, as if he has no idea she’s implying something more.
“That’s nice.” Marlene tilts her head, and with another wave, she’s off and finished gawking at me.
I blow out a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?”
“When?”
“With that guy at your house who was all ‘Ooo! You’re not a good date,’” I say, my tone mocking. “And ‘ooo, she’s in her pajamas and you’re coming out of her house with cereal.’” I clear my throat. “You know, that guy.”
“Hank? He did not say that.”
“He said something like that.”
“Fine, but Liv.” Logan’s brow wrinkles. “It doesn’t matter what you tell Hank, he’ll believe what he wants to.”
“You didn’t even try.” I throw my hands up. I’m pretty sure it’s the price of those eggs that are making me lose my mind.
“Olivia, I didn’t mean to upset you. I know Hank; it wouldn’t have helped. Moving on was our best course of action.”
Why shouldn’t I believe him? Then again, how well do I know Logan? Other than my intuition and teeny-tiny infatuation with the memory of the kid next door, Logan is practically a stranger.
And yet, I do trust him. Even if it makes no sense.
I sigh, and my jaw clenches. “I’m ready. I’m going to check out.”
“I’ll be right there.”
As I approach the man in the bright orange hunting vest at the one checkout lane, I begin to fear he will not accept my debit card. The register could be a hundred years old.
“Hello, there,” he says as if we are old friends. “How’s it going today?”
“Ah—good. Thanks.”
He grins. “So, Olivia, are ya gettin’ all settled?”
“Ah…” Crap. We’ve met. But then I met a lot of people at Amelia’s funeral. My saving grace is the man’s name tag—Joe. “I’m getting there, Joe. Thank you.” I have zero recollection of the cheerful older man, but that name tag is making me sound like I’m more together than I am. “So, do you take debit cards?”
“Of course we do.” He pulls a black card machine from under the counter and sets it on display for me. It doesn’t look like any machine I’ve seen before though.
“It’s a chip card,” I say. “Do I insert it, or will you need to run it?”
“Oh, it is a fancy little chip reader,” Joe says with a nod.
Logan files in line behind me, a smile playing on his lips. He thinks this encounter is funny. He places his things on the conveyor belt next to mine, then leans in, whispering, “He got the chip reader a month ago.”
My ear tingles, and I sway one inch away from him. “Lucky me.”
“Is that everything?” Logan asks as Joe bags up my items.
“Yes. I’m probably leaving in a day or two, so I just got the essentials.”
“Leaving so soon?” Joe frowns.
My eyes skirt to his working hands. “Most likely. It doesn’t look like I’ll be able to stay. My boyfriend is probably coming to get me, and I have work.”
