Social media had nothing on small-town gossip lines. Busybodies had been passing along rumors and conjecture far and wide long before the term going viral was even a concept. Snow usually observed the speed with which news spread in her adopted town with rapt fascination, until the news involved her personal life.
Now this small-town quirk didn’t seem so quaint.
Nitzi Merchant had been the first to ask, when she’d stopped in to put her new bits of lace for sale in her booth. The doilies were priced at more than they were worth, but Snow knew full well that Nitzi always started high before making drastic price cuts, which led the customers to feel as if they were getting a deal. The practice was as old as time, and Nitzi knew how to make it work in her favor.
To Snow’s surprise, the second inquiry had come from Priscilla Winkle. The first lady of Ardent Springs didn’t have much time for Snow after she’d befriended Lorelei Pratchett, against whom the Winkles had waged some kind of personal vendetta. Priscilla’s daughter, Becky, was best described as Lorelei’s arch-nemesis, but Snow had never liked the snarky blonde with the bouffant hair.
When Mrs. Winkle had approached Snow near a stack of vintage suitcases she’d been straightening and asked whom she’d been with at the auction, the woman’s tone implied that said man might be new meat for the local marriage market, and therefore her daughter’s next matrimonial victim.
“He’s my fiancé,” Snow had informed her. “We’ve been in a long-distance relationship for a while and have decided to take things to the next level.”
Though she’d been reluctant to use the engagement element, seeing Priscilla’s dull blue eyes go wide with surprise made Snow feel as if she’d won a contest. The conversation hadn’t proceeded far beyond that point, as Mrs. Winkle lost interest the moment she heard Caleb would not be courting her daughter.
It wasn’t until she’d finished her peanut butter and jelly sandwich that Snow experienced her third surprise encounter of the day, when Piper Griffin blew into the shop for their regular Monday meeting.
Piper was Snow’s sales rep from the Ardent Advocate. The middle-aged brunette dressed too young for her age, wore enough perfume to gag a moose, and could sell space heaters in the Bahamas. She’d been harassing Snow to increase her ad budget for three months.
If the painting turned out to be authentic and worth as much as Snow hoped, Piper might get her way.
“Am I glad Halloween is over,” Piper said, sliding behind the counter and lifting a plateful of cookies from a lower shelf. They’d made a deal long ago that Snow would always put a select number of cookies aside for these visits, since Lorelei’s goodies rarely lasted past lunchtime. “Now we can get on with my favorite time of year.” Piper popped a piece of gingersnap between her deep-red lips and talked around the morsel. “The Christmas shopping season.”
Snow noticed that Piper did not state that Christmas was her favorite time of year. So much for the reason for the season.
“We’re still weeks away from Thanksgiving,” Snow reminded her rep. She wouldn’t exactly call them friends, since Piper was only interested in the commission she could make off Snow’s advertising, but they did speak at social functions, on the rare occasion they crossed paths. So she was at least a friendly acquaintance.
“Pish posh.” Piper shooed the facts away. “I’ve bought four presents already, and if you don’t want people taking their business online, you need to remind them why they should shop local.”
And how she should do that was to buy a bigger ad. “Are you doing the Buy Local promotion again? That did well last Christmas.”
The paper had created a full-page ad the previous year dedicated to encouraging readers to invest their hard-earned money into local businesses, instead of driving down to Nashville to hit the big stores, or making the majority of their purchases on the Internet. Each local business had the opportunity to contribute a relatively small amount to be included in the promotion.
Piper finished off a chocolate chip cookie before responding. “We’re definitely doing that again, but it’s going to take more than your name included in a mass ad to let our readers know of the treasures you have here.” The empty plate returned to the shelf as Piper added, “You’ve got one-of-a-kind stuff in this place, Snow. And a much bigger inventory than you had this time last year. People need to know that.”
Snow supposed she was right. Though the shop benefited from its central location on the corner of a major downtown intersection not far from the town square, which, ironically, was round, there was less foot traffic in the winter. Buyers needed a reason to visit the store.