“Is that Jules?” He changed the subject so quickly my head snapped up. Also because of the name in question. “Where?” I looked around for her horn-rimmed sweetness. “Right, there. Hiding behind the shelves at the end of the row.” I ducked down and spotted her trying to look inconspicuous and at a vantage point where she absolutely had to have seen us. “We can see you, Frenchie.” She shot straight up, banged her head on the shelf, and her basket tumbled to the ground. Down on all fours, she scrambled to pick up all her stuff and rubbed her head. I bridged the space between us and bent down,
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