“I’m not. Here’s the plan. We’ll let Talbot check the new sprinkler heads and see what he comes up with. If he signs off on the occupancy permit, we’re home free. If he doesn’t, we need to position him by the counter, about where you’re standing now. I’ve got the camera set for wide-angle to get us all in. The mike’s pinned right here, under my blouse.”
She patted the spangles banding the neckline of the splashy print blouse. Additional sparkles highlighted the busy leopard pattern. Buddy boy would have to put his nose smack-dab in the middle of her chest to notice the mike amid all those gaudy, glittery spots.
To her consternation, Dave did almost that. Hooking a finger in the V-neck of her blouse, he tugged her across the counter for a closer inspection of the hidden device.
“Show me.”
“It’s right here.”
Andi tugged the spangled neck band aside, wishing she hadn’t worn a push-up bra, perversely happy she had. The heat that sprang into Dave’s eyes as he searched for the mike warmed her all the way down to her toes.
His voice was low and gruff when he released her. “How do you figure to segue from sprinkler heads to under-the-counter payoffs?”
“That’s your job. I would suggest you go all huffy and act like the delays are my fault. Then you might pull Talbot aside and ask him man to man what it would take to get me off your back.”
“That sounds pretty close to entrapment.”
“I checked the statutes on that, too. A person is only ‘entrapped’ when he’s persuaded by law enforcement officers or their agents to commit a crime he had no intention of committing. A, we’re not law enforcement officers, just ordinary citizens. B, if we catch this guy on camera soliciting a bribe, it probably won’t stand up as evidence in a court of law, but it should get the attention of the mayor and/or the town council.”
“You want to tread carefully here, Andi. This guy isn’t going to take kindly to being exposed.”
“I pulled two tours at the Pentagon,” she reminded him tartly, “and one in Iraq. I can handle whatever Buddy boy throws my way.”
THE SCRIPT COULDN’T have played any better if it had been penned by a team of ace Hollywood screenwriters.
Andi stayed on the watch for Talbot and darted back to activate the camera when his panel truck pulled into a parking space outside the shop. She reverified the angle, checked to make sure the correct date and time showed in the viewfinder and squared her shoulders.
Showtime, folks.
When Talbot was a half step from the front door, she launched herself into her role and stalked to the front of the shop.
“Dammit, Armstrong! I told you these delays aren’t my fault.”
On cue, Dave plunged into his frustrated-ex act. “Yeah, right. I know you, woman. I should, after living with you for all those excruciating years. You construct detailed checklists for everything from brushing your teeth to prepositioning combat troops in a war zone.”
That hit a little too close to home. Bristling, Andi made sure they were both facing away from the door and followed his lead.
“So?” She didn’t have to dig too deep for the belligerence that colored her reply.
“So you would have planned for any unexpected contingencies and found a work-around by now. Admit it, Andi. You’re dragging your feet so you can bank those friggin’ alimony checks every month.”
“You walk,” she drawled, “you pay. And you’ll continue to pay until I get this shop up and running.”
They were nose-to-nose now, giving their best imitation of twin volcanoes about to erupt. Steam vented from every fissure. Andi could almost smell the sulfur.
“Tell your skinny-assed new wife to stop whining,” she jeered. “I’ll let you off the hook. It’s just taking a little longer than I anticipated.”
Behind them, Talbot cleared his throat. They both ignored him.
“Trish doesn’t whine,” Dave fired back. “Although God knows you’ve given her plenty of reason to with all your—”
“’Scuse me, folks.”
Snarling, Dave rounded on the building inspector. “Who the hell are you?”
Buddy boy blinked and took a quick step back. He was a tall, spare man with pens poking from the pocket of his blue plaid shirt. A clipboard was tucked under one arm.
“My name’s Bud Talbot. I’m supposed to meet Wayne Jacobs here to check the new sprinkler heads.”
“Wayne’s been delayed,” Andi replied, projecting the image of a woman heroically trying to rein in her temper. “I’m Andrea Armstrong. This is my shop. Or will be when you and the town council approve my permit. Which,” she tacked on with another sneer in Dave’s direction, “certain people seem to think I’m deliberately dragging my feet on.”
Talbot cleared his throat again. “Maybe I can expedite matters. Let me take a look at the sprinkler heads.”
Andi left Dave drumming his fingers on the counter and accompanied the inspector on his walk-through. The new sprinklers showed bright and shiny against the freshly painted ceiling. Talbot annotated the make, model and number of each on his clipboard.
“Looks like you’re up to code,” he announced, pocketing his pen.
Andi didn’t have to fake her sigh of relief. She wouldn’t hesitate to take down a crooked inspector but much preferred dealing with an honest one.
“Make sure you keep at least eighteen inches of clearance between the heads and the tops of those shelves,” Talbot advised.
“I will.”
“Good. Now all you have to do is show me your certificate and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“What certificate?”
“For the sprinkler system. Regulations require that you post the manufacturer’s certificate next to a schedule of inspections. You need to include the name of the person authorized to conduct the inspection on the schedule.”
“Wayne must have the certificate. I’ll retrieve it from him and hang it today. I’ll also make up the required schedule.”
When the pen emerged from Talbot’s pocket once again, Andi realized she’d sighed too soon.
“Sorry, ma’am. I can’t recommend approval of your permit until I see both the certificate and the schedule. We’ll have to arrange another walk-though.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I don’t kid about building safety.”
“I’ll get the certificate from Wayne, I promise. And if you’ll tell me how often I need to conduct these inspections, I’ll draft a schedule right now.”
Talbot shook his head. “I hate to be such a stickler, ma’am, but rules are rules. Jacobs should have taken care of all this for you,” he grumbled, neatly passing the blame. “I’ll come back when he has.”
Andi threw Dave what she very much hoped was a weak and helpless look. She must have pulled off at least one of the two, as Talbot didn’t appear surprised when her ex stepped in and took charge.
“Call Jacobs,” he instructed Andi tersely. “Ask him if he’s got the damned certificate. Bud, what do you say we talk about this man to man?”
Andi retreated to the back of the shop and made a show of digging her cell phone out of her purse. All the while she kept the mike embedded in her neckline pointed toward the men at the counter. They were well within recording range, but she sweated bullets as they put their heads together.
Dave spoke first, fast and low. Talbot listened, glancing Andi’s way and nodding a few times before answering. She pretended not to see him or notice when Dave seemed to hesitate for several moments.
And when he reached into his back pocket and extracted his wallet, she had to restrain herself from punching a fist into the air.
Yes!
She considered confronting Talbot then and there but needed to be sure she’d captured him on tape. Otherwise he could deny everything and it would just be their word against his.
While the inspector palmed the bill Dave passed him, Andi confirmed with Wayne Jacobs that he was indeed in possession of the manufac
turer’s certificate. She also confirmed that inspections were required monthly.
“Thanks, Wayne.”
“Talbot still there?”
“He is.”
“How’s it going?”
“Excellently. Talk to you later.”
Snapping the phone shut, she grabbed her notebook and tore out a lined page. Two bold slashes divided the sheet into columns. She labeled the first Date, the second Name of Inspector and the third Status. A few quick scribbles filled in the entry for September.
“Here’s my inspection schedule. Wayne has the certificate in his car. He’ll deliver it in person within the hour.”
Talbot rubbed the side of his nose. “I’ve got another appointment I have to go to. Guess I could swing back by here afterward. Say four-thirty? That way I can verify that I saw the appropriate documents.”
Feigning both gratitude and delight, Andi beamed him a smile. “Thanks, Bud. I certainly wouldn’t want you to break the rules.”
With a shrug and a nod to Dave, Buddy boy went on his larcenous way. Andi waited until he’d backed his panel truck out of the parking space and driven off before whirling to face her coconspirator.
“Did what I think happened really happen?”
“It did.”
Dave didn’t go in for displays of emotion, but she could tell from the wicked satisfaction lacing his voice that he was as pumped as she was.
“You owe me two hundred bucks, woman.”
“If that camera works as advertised, I’ll pay you back shortly…with interest!”
“I can wait for the two hundred.” With a slashing grin, he burrowed a hand under her hair. “How about I take the interest in advance?”
Gulping, Andi did her best to ignore the sudden heat searing her nape. “You promised, Armstrong. No pushing.”
“I’m not pushing, babe. I’m pulling.”
The tug was so slight, the movement so slow, his muscles barely flexed. All Andi needed to do to break his hold was pull back an inch or two.
She meant to. She really did. She had too much coming down on her right now to give in to the insane need to feel his mouth on hers again.
But Armstrong had always known which buttons to press and when to press them. The thrill of getting Buddy boy on tape still bubbled through her veins, and the stroke of Dave’s thumb along the sensitive spot just below her ear only heightened the thrill. In mere seconds Andi went from excited and triumphant to just plain excited.
And alive! God, so very alive.
Riding a rush of exuberance and unleashed lust, she threw herself into the kiss. Her mouth locked with his. Her tongue got busy. Every inch of her leaped to life as she slicked her hands over his shoulders and locked them around his neck.
Dave’s reaction was swift and erotic. Widening his stance, he canted her hips into his. All it took was one contact for Andi to feel him, stiff as a telephone pole, against her belly. Her womb clenched in an ancient and totally primal response.
She wanted this man, wanted to drag him down behind the counter and yield to the rutting instincts imprinted in the DNA of every species on Earth.
Dave was her mate. He wore her brand, the gold band that had marked him as hers. Once.
Then her mind shut down and her body took charge. She pressed closer, grinding her mouth into his, flattening her chest against his—and got stabbed in the breast.
“Ow!”
She jumped back, breaking Dave’s hold. His head jerked up. Fear washed the heat from his cheeks.
“What?”
“The mike.” Wincing, she reached inside the neckline of her blouse. “The damned thing gouged a hole in me.”
His breath left on a loud rattle. Muttering a curse, he slumped against the counter and waited while she extracted the microphone. She was twirling the tiny bud between her fingers when she remembered the camcorder aimed in their direction.
“Oh, hell! I left the camera on. The battery’s probably run down.”
“Mine hasn’t.”
Dave reached for her again, but they both knew the wild, reckless moment had passed. Digging deep for a smile, Andi shook her head.
“It’s good we stopped when we did.”
“You think so, huh?”
She knew so. The Christmas video had ripped a hole in her heart. She could imagine the damage an X-rated version would do.
“This is happening too fast, Dave. I told you—I need time to think.”
“Yeah, you did.” He brushed a knuckle down her cheek. “But I have to say I like it better when we don’t think and just go with our instincts.”
“That’s what we did the first time around. This time—if there’s going to be a this time—we need to do it right. You said as much last night. We have to learn how to weave our separate lives into a single whole.”
He skimmed a glance around the shop, brought it back to her.
“This place is a start, Andi. I know I muscled my way in, but I like watching you bring it to life. And I had fun this afternoon…during and after Talbot’s visit. Thanks for including me in your scam.”
“Speaking of which, I’d better check the camera and see if we caught Bud on tape.”
Andi retrieved the camcorder and saw the batteries hadn’t completely run down. Setting the device on the counter, she flipped out the viewing screen and hit rewind.
The display showed a blur of backward motion. Turkey gobbles of distorted sound filled the air. Leaning over her shoulder, Dave squinted at the tiny screen.
“There! Stop!”
The image sharpened to incredible clarity. Better yet, the turkey gobbles dissolved into distinctly audible dialogue.
…do you say we talk about this man to man?
There was Talbot, his glance shifting between Dave and Andi.
What do we have to talk about?
As I think you heard, my alimony payments are killing me. I’m hoping to get out from under them—and get my ex-wife off my ass once her shop is open for business. How do I make that happen?
Man to man?
Man to man.
Two hundred should do it.
“Hot damn!” Whooping, Andi hit the freeze-frame button. “You did it, Armstrong. You got Talbot to hang himself out to dry.”
He wasn’t quite as elated as she was. “What are you going to do with the tape?”
“Show it to Buddy boy when he comes back at four-thirty and retrieve your two hundred, for starters. Then I’ll take it to the mayor. I doubt if the town council will hire Talbot to conduct future inspections.”
She unfroze the video and watched the rest of the small drama. Satisfaction and real gratitude colored her voice when she turned to Dave.
“Thanks for helping with this.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Want to stick around a while and catch act two?”
“I’d planned to.”
“Why?” She cocked her head, sensing there was more behind his comment than mere curiosity as to how the final act in the drama would spin out. “Do you think Talbot might turn mean?”
“You corner a junkyard dog, he’ll go for your throat. Never hurts to have some backup, babe.”
CHAPTER 11
By the time Bud Talbot returned, Andi had mounted the sprinkler system manufacturer’s certificate alongside a more professional-looking inspection schedule. She’d also rewound the camcorder to the appropriate spot and had it waiting on the counter.
Dave sprawled in one of the shop’s overstuffed easy chairs. Wayne Jacobs occupied the other. Still jazzed from a sneak preview of the tape, the agent had begged Andi to let him stick around for the official showing.
Backed by so much testosterone, she was ready when the inspector reentered her shop. He looked surprised to see Dave still hanging around after the acrimonious exchange he’d overheard earlier and dipped his head to acknowledge Wayne.
“You bring that certificate, Jacobs?”
“Sure did. Ms. Armstrong has it posted at
the back of the store, along with her inspection schedule.”
“I’ll just take a gander and be on my way.”
Andi accompanied him to the rear of the shop and indicated the framed certificate with a little flourish.
Talbot leaned in, squinting at the date. The pen came out of his pocket. Two ticks on his clipboard later, he handed her a copy of his final walk-through inspection recommending approval of her occupancy permit.
“Looks good, Ms. Armstrong. Far as I’m concerned, you’re ready to open for business.”
“Almost.” Tucking the form into the pocket of her jeans, Andi led the way back toward the front of the shop. “There’s another small matter I need to discuss with you first.”
“What’s that?”
“The two-hundred-dollar bribe my ex-husband paid you.”
Talbot stopped in his tracks and zinged a glance at the two men ensconced in the easy chairs.
“He said he gave me two hundred dollars?”
“He did. Do you deny it?”
“Maybe I do and maybe I don’t. Seems like that would be a matter between me and him.”
“This is my shop, Mr. Talbot. I’m responsible for whatever happens on these premises.”
“You’d better tell that to your ex—”
“You’re right.” Folding her arms, Andi sang out, “Dave! Mr. Talbot says to remind you this is my shop.”
“So?”
“So I don’t want you bribing him or anyone else on my behalf.”
“Hell,” Talbot muttered. “That wasn’t a bribe!”
“Really? What would you call it?”
“It was, uh, a commission.”
Andi didn’t bother to hide her disdain. “A commission for what?”
“Your ex-husband asked for my professional advice.”
He turned to Dave, obviously expecting him to back up the story and extricate them both from this jam. All he received was cool silence from Dave and a snort of derision from Wayne Jacobs.
“She’s nailed you, Talbot.”
Ex Marks the Spot (Harlequin Next) Page 11
