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“You said before you work with inventors,” Toby said, as much to change the subject as because he was interested. “What does that mean?”

“I started out in applied design. Working with engineers to make sure the product was something that humans could interact with easily. I was a tiny cog in a very big company. When I was offered a buyout, I took it.” She smiled. “By then I had a lot of contacts and wanted to try making it on my own. So I started a little business, and by little I mean it’s just me.”

“And you help inventors bring their products to market?”

“Not in a marketing sense. I help them make sure their product is easy to use. The start sequence for a high-tech blender has to pass the grandma test.”

“Not fifteen buttons and a Bluetooth hookup?”

“Exactly. It’s fun work. I set my own hours and I meet interesting people. Sometimes it’s frustrating because success isn’t automatic. Great products that will never get to market.”

“But you still get paid?”

The smile returned. “Sometimes. A lot of my clients are rich with ideas but not so much with the actual cash. If I believe in what they bring me, I’ll get a cut of the action. If they make money, I do, too. If they don’t, then I chose badly.”

Which sounded easy enough, he thought, but required an incredible business sense and a trust in her gut instincts.

“What’s your success rate?” he asked.

“About sixty-forty. Sixty percent have done well. Some have done very well.”

He leaned toward her. “You’re rich.” His tone was both humorous and accusing.

“I’m not.” Her brown eyes sparkled with amusement. “I do okay.”

“You own your own house?”

“I bought a place a year ago. It’s a cute little bungalow just north of Seattle. I also have a retirement fund, so there.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Like I said, it’s a small business, but I’m happy. I’m saving up to remodel the kitchen.” She picked up her drink and took a sip. “Are you happy back in Wishing Tree?”

“I am. I like that I can keep an eye on Judy, and Harrison is thriving.”

“He’s a sweetie and Belle adores him.”

“I’m still impressed how she protected him.”

“Me, too. I’ve always thought that if someone broke in the house, she would wait in the closet until the situation resolved.”

He chuckled. “I can see that.”

Conversation shifted to mutual friends who’d stayed in town. Reggie was still easy to talk to. Toby kept getting distracted by her smile and the way she talked with her hands—all exactly as he remembered. Good memories, he thought.

When it was time to go get Harrison, Toby paid their bill and helped her into her coat.

“Braced for the cold?” he asked.

“Yes. We just have to keep moving so we don’t freeze in place.”

They were still laughing when Paisley and Shaye walked into Holiday Spirits and spotted them.

Shaye only looked mildly interested, but Paisley’s eyebrows shot up, and her gaze took on a speculative look.

“Hey, you two,” she said, eyeing Reggie. “You didn’t want to play mini golf?”

Reggie grinned. “We’re leaving that for the family crowd.”