I stepped out of the shower, a marvelously modern glass and tile fixture that stood in the corner of a giant luxury bathroom. The bedroom suite was cozy and beautiful, a magazine quality picture of comfort. Even though the outside of the inn lacked some charm, the inside was a wonderful example of an inviting bed and breakfast, with the added bonus of an incredible bakery on the bottom floor.

The hot shower had taken away some of my earlier apprehension, and I’d resigned myself to having a nice night away from home. My only regret was that I had only my workday dress to climb back into after the exhilarating shower.

Wrapped in the plushest white towel on earth, I stepped into the bedroom just as Coco knocked on the door.

“Come in,” I called.

She’d taken off the floppy hat, and a heavy set of auburn waves curled down around her head and shoulders. Again, on first glance, she appeared older than she actually was. It had to be a trick of the lights. All the fixtures were of stained glass and ornate iron, typical for a Victorian interior, but they provided shadowy light at best.

A delicious aroma and even more delectable plate of food entered the room with my gracious hostess. Strange as all the circumstances of the night had been, there was no denying that Coco was amazing.

“I placed some clothes on the dresser. No sense in staying in your work clothes when the work day is over. And”—She beamed at the plate she was holding—“my best frittata yet, I think.” She walked over and set the plate down on the small table sitting in front of the upholstered window seat. “One can’t live on cupcakes alone. Although, one might certainly give it her best effort,” she finished with her lyrical laugh.

“Thank you so much. Should I give you my credit card information for my bill?”

“What bill? No, Emmie, you are my guest. Now hurry and get dressed and eat. I’ll be heading down the street to the Hanky Dory.”

“Excuse me? Did you say the Hanky Dory?”

“I love the name, don’t you? It’s a rather dark and dingy pool hall, but the beer is great and the patrons are a unique, diverse bunch. Some professionals from the city go there to, as they say, ‘let their hair, or more accurately, their collar stays down’. Somehow, it’s easier to let yourself step out of your usual boundaries when a place is shadowy and off the beaten path. Which brings me to the less savory side of the patron list, bikers, gamblers and people out just to have a good time. But they’re all decent folk. Besides, no one bothers to make trouble. The place is run by a friend of mine. Hank, like the name of the bar, is as big as he is strong. No one steps out of line in the Hanky Dory unless they want to leave on a stretcher.”

“All right,” I said, feeling a little less enthusiastic about the night away from home. “Are you sure you should be going there?” I sat down to the plate of food. Bacon and onion wafted up from the frittata, and my stomach grumbled with hunger.

Coco waved off the question. “It’s a great place to hang out on a Saturday night. But I’m going there just to deliver a batch of cupcakes to Hank. They’re for his daughter’s birthday party. I’ll have one glass of wine, maybe two. But you really must tag along. I think you’ll have fun.”

“I don’t know, Coco. A nice quiet evening here in this beautiful bedroom with the wrought iron antique bed sounds pretty inviting. It’s been a long week.”

She cleared her throat. “Thus proving my assumption about your lack of adventure.”

“Jeez, you’re right. It’s as if I’m trying to fade away like the pages of an old book. I’m just coming out of a relationship, and I don’t have my land legs back yet. In fact, David might just be the reason I lost my sense of adventure. I was sure he was exactly what I was looking for, but he turned out to be just what I thought I was looking for. I had this list of traits for my perfect match, and they turned out to be all wrong.” I wasn’t sure if it was the way Coco had of looking at me as if she was listening raptly to every word or if it was because she reminded me some of my mom when she was younger. She had never been like the other moms. She never cared what others thought, and I’d always loved that about her. Somehow though, I’d strayed away from that carefree, non-conforming lifestyle. I’d gone a more traditional path in my career, and David had fit that mold. Now I badly wanted to break that mold.

“Then this weekend will be the perfect start for you to come up with a whole new list of traits. I think you might surprise yourself if you look deep inside your heart. Do you play pool?”

I thought about the community center at the apartments my mom and I had moved to when I was a teen. The pool room had been one of my favorite hangouts. And Joe, an old salty guy who loved to talk about his grandchildren but who rarely got to see them, taught me how to play and play well. “As a matter of fact, I do. But it’s been awhile. Used to be pretty good though.”

“I imagine it’s like riding a bicycle. Finish your frittata, get dressed and meet me downstairs.” She left the room before I could even come up with a reasonable protest.