Ex Marks the Spot (Harlequin Next)

by Merline Lovelace

  Karen spun in a circle, her buttercup-yellow skirt billowing above her ankle socks and Mary Janes. “This place is fabulous. Please tell me you haven’t hired all the help you need.”

  “I haven’t. How about some coffee and doughnuts while we talk?”

  “Yes to both.”

  Chocolate-glazed in hand, Andi flipped open the file she’d begun on Karen. As yet, all it included was the résumé the young wife had e-mailed and a blank employment form Andi had copied off the Internet.

  “You’ve racked up quite a bit of experience in the book business. Part-time at your local library all through high school. Volunteer at your kids’ school library four hours a week. Three years at the used bookstore.”

  “I’ve always loved books. My earliest memory is sitting on my mom’s lap while she rocked me and read The Little Engine That Could.”

  “‘I think I can, I think I can, I think I can,’” Andi quoted, smiling. “That was one of my favorites, too.”

  “Both of my boys will recite the entire book, line for line, at the least provocation. I read it to them until the pages shredded.”

  “I like that you’ve taken some business and marketing courses at the community college. You’re certainly highly qualified. I’m curious, though. Why do you want to work in a small shop when one of the big chains would probably snap you up in a heartbeat?”

  “The nearest big chain is a good twenty miles from my house. I need be close to home when one of the boys takes a dive off the parallel bars at school and breaks a leg.”

  “Does that happen often?”

  “Often enough. I won’t kid you, Colonel Armstrong. My boys are, well, adventurous.”

  Andi gave her high marks for honesty.

  “We’ll work around any catastrophes at school. And, please, call me Andi.”

  The woman nodded but looked uncomfortable with that last bit. As the wife of a staff sergeant stationed at Hurlburt Field, she would understand and respect the invisible barriers of rank.

  Now for the tricky part. Andi wouldn’t ask anyone to work in close proximity to her without disclosing the reason for her abrupt departure from active duty. She’d considered and discarded a dozen different approaches. Finally she settled on the most direct.

  “Before we proceed any further, I think you should know I brought an uninvited guest home with me from Iraq. A stubborn little bug known as acinetobacter baumannii. The troops call it Saddam’s Revenge.”

  To her relief, her potential employee didn’t recoil in alarm.

  “I’ve heard about that,” Karen said slowly. “One of the men in my husband’s squadron was hit by small-arms fire during a raid in Basra. The wound got infected with this bug. It’s still in his system.” The young wife’s brow knit. “It lives in the sand, doesn’t it? Desert sand?”

  “That’s what they tell me, although variations are supposedly present in the soil in every part of the world, even here.”

  Andi feathered her fingers across her chin. The scar was almost invisible under a light layer of makeup.

  “The docs say the bacteria reside harmlessly on the skin. Once this particular strain gets into the blood, though, it’s tough to root out. They don’t as yet know why it’s proving so resistant to antibiotics.”

  “But it’s not contagious?”

  “Again, that’s what they tell me.”

  “I guess they’d quarantine folks if it was.”

  “I guess so. Do you want to take some time to think about this or talk to your husband before we discuss the specifics of the job?”

  Karen downed a doughnut while she mulled that over.

  “No,” she announced after a moment, “I’m good with it. Jerry—my husband—works alongside that troop who took the hit. He hasn’t caught the bug. Nobody in the squadron has. But…”

  “What?”

  She nibbled on her lower lip. “The odds are I might pass something on to you. My kids always bring whatever’s going around home from school.”

  “We don’t have to worry about that. I’m taking enough antibiotics to kick the bubonic plague in the butt.”

  Relieved that touchy subject was behind them, Andi made the offer. “If you want the job, I can start you at eight-fifty an hour.”

  “Eight-fifty? Are you serious?”

  “I know it’s only two dollars above minimum wage, but we can renegotiate after—”

  “I’ll take it, I’ll take it!”

  With an embarrassed laugh, Karen explained her eagerness. “I haven’t been earning anything close to minimum wage. You know how it is. A military wife walks in looking for a job, potential bosses know her husband could get orders any day. They don’t want to hire and train someone who might have to quit the next month. When you add two young kids and a need for flexible hours to the equation, you’re lucky if they’ll even talk to you.”

  “Well, I sincerely hope your husband doesn’t get orders for a while. I’d love for you to help me launch this shop.”

  “When do you want me to start?”

  “As soon as possible. How much notice do you have to give at your other job?”

  Her mouth curved in a sheepish grin. “I gave notice the day after we talked. I was hoping you’d hire me. If you didn’t, I would have quit anyway. One of the customers walked in sporting a bloody dagger dangling from a chain around his neck. He really creeped me out.”

  “He would creep me out, too. Let’s hope he doesn’t decide to shop here.”

  “Are you going to carry horror?”

  “Some. I want to cater to all readers, of course, but my analyses indicate the bulk of our customers will be military—active, retired, reserve.”

  Dragging her hefty op plan across the counter, Andi flipped to the tab containing local population statistics. A bar graph with stair-stepping green columns summarized her weeks of data gathering.

  “The tourist trade should account for our next largest customer base. Then women. Publishing industry statistics indicate they’re the most avid readers. Then children and young adults.”

  She dropped an acetate overlay onto the population chart. Bright orange lines bisected the green bars at various points.

  “For the military base, we’ll stock up on men’s action-adventures, thrillers, war novels and military history.”

  Casually she dropped the name of the author who’d agreed to come in for the grand opening. Karen almost fell off her stool.

  “Omigod! Wait until Jerry hears about this! He loves Roger Brent. He and every troop in his squadron will line up for a signed copy.”

  Andi let her gush for several minutes before returning to the charts. “For the tourists, we’ll stock up on a variety of paperback bestsellers they can take to the beach, as well as travel guides and books with local interest. Female readers go for mystery and bestsellers, too, but I’ve ordered a full line of books by top romance authors. I’m hoping you’ll review the children’s selections and make any changes you think necessary.”

  Karen studied the fat binder with a combination of awe and trepidation. “I’ll be happy to make suggestions, but I’m not sure I can lay them out with such…such precise detail.”

  “Not to worry.” Andi chuckled. “I tend to go a little overboard on spreadsheets. Between my analytical approach to this business and your in-store smarts, we should make a heck of a team.”

  Pleasure colored the younger woman’s face almost the same shade as her terra cotta hair. “Thanks, Colonel. Uh, Andi.”

  “Why don’t I show you around the shop?”

  Karen oohed over the reading alcoves and gave grateful thanks for the microwave and fridge in the storeroom at the rear of the shop.

  “I’m doing Lean Cuisine these days. Most of the time,” she amended, obviously remembering the sugary doughnuts. “Jerry says he likes having more of me to love, but I’m tired of shopping for tents instead of dresses.”

  To Andi’s delight, her new employee proved her worth not two minutes later. After s
urveying the area intended for the children’s section, Karen recommended a slight rearrangement of the bookshelves.

  “If we angle them a little, we could make a play space back in this corner. Maybe add a carpet for toddlers to crawl on and some child-size chairs. And, if possible, you might think about another computer terminal for this space. Or a small TV with a Game Boy. The kids can play video games while Mom and Dad browse.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea.”

  Andi could have kicked herself for not thinking of it herself. The last time she’d visited D.C.’s largest mall, she’d been both amazed and amused by the hordes of two-and three-year-olds pounding keyboards at the Apple store.

  “I should to be able to spring for another used computer. Why don’t we ask your boys to recommend some games? Ones they’d like to play if you get in a crunch and have to bring them in with you.”

  Karen did a double take. “You mean you don’t mind me bringing the boys to work?”

  “I wouldn’t want you to do it on a regular basis, but I spent twenty-one years in uniform. I know your husband’s life isn’t his own. Yours, either, when it comes to short-notice TDYs and deployments. If you do bring the boys in, though, make them promise to refrain from diving off the shelves and breaking legs.”

  “I will.”

  Just in case, Andi thought, she’d better make sure she didn’t leave any sharp tools or box cutters lying around the storeroom. She’d also check her insurance policy. She’d purchased a million in liability and enough personal property to cover her investment. That should take care of all contingencies, including two active boys.

  “So when do you want me to start?” Karen asked again after the tour.

  “How about tomorrow? I’m expecting my first shipment of books. You can help me scan them in and shelve them.”

  “Tomorrow’s good. The boys are in school from eight to three-fifteen. I can stay that whole day if you need me.”

  They were working out a schedule for the next two weeks when a truck pulled up to the shop.

  “Finally! The sign for above the front door.”

  Karen’s excitement mirrored Andi’s as the two women stood on the sidewalk and watched the installation crew mount the backlit plastic sign. When the crew peeled away the protective adhesive covering to reveal the sand-colored lettering set against a vivid turquoise backdrop, Karen voiced enthusiastic approval.

  “A Great Read. It’s simple yet enthusiastic. The perfect name for a bookstore.”

  Andi had to agree. She’d considered and discarded hundreds of names, including the more exotic ones suggested by S.E. and Crash. In the end she’d gone with one she thought conveyed exactly what her shop was all about.

  “Oh, look at that logo,” Karen exclaimed when the installers peeled away the last of the adhesive backing. “I love it!”

  Andi did, too, especially since she’d designed it herself. She’d wanted to capture the essence of the unspoiled beaches surrounding Gulf Springs. Hence the turquoise and sand colors, the hint of dunes and feathery sea oats in the logo and the stack of books waiting beside an open beach umbrella.

  Not exactly James Bond or Scarlett O’Hara. Yet the longer Andi gazed at the sign, the more right it felt.

  Her fellow entrepreneurs seemed to agree. The manager of the beachwear shop on her left came out to admire the sign and inquire about the kinds of books she planned to stock. The cook and the waitress working the seafood restaurant across the street joined the small crowd. Even the pharmacist from the drugstore on the corner strolled down for a look-see.

  Their warm welcome and promises to hand out flyers in their establishments announcing her grand opening left Andi feeling buoyed and more excited than ever.

  STILL BASKING IN THE glow, she hung around the shop until dusk to test the sign’s illumination. She made her first observation from the middle of the road. When both the logo and the shop name showed beautifully from that vantage point, she walked up one side of the street and down the other. Only after she was satisfied she could spot A Great Read from almost any angle did she lock up and drive home.

  The light spilling through the windows of Dave’s place tugged at her like a bungee cord. She hadn’t seen or talked to him since the sting. His house had been dark when she’d arrived home the past few nights.

  She’d picked up the phone to call him a couple of times. Once to tell him about the mayor’s offer of a seat on the town council, once to ask when she could return the camcorder. On both occasions she’d snapped down the lid of her cell phone before the call went through.

  They needed time. Correction—she needed time. Dave seemed determined to pick up where they’d left off, but she hadn’t been prepared for his unexpected reappearance in her life. Still less for the wild emotions that rocketed through her with every kiss.

  She could understand the heat. Whatever else they’d messed up, Dave had always known just how to key her ignition switch and vice versa. They probably set several world records their first few years, going from fully dressed to naked in four-point-five seconds or less.

  The urge to strip and straddle him was still there and growing fiercer with each passing day. Problem was, Andi wasn’t sure what she wanted to follow the stripping and straddling. They’d jumped out of bed and into marriage once. Older and wiser, she was determined to look before she leaped this time around.

  Her rented house welcomed her like the friend it was fast becoming. Kicking off her flip-flops, Andi curled her toes into the smooth satin of the kitchen tiles and plopped her purse on the kitchen counter. The op plan thudded down beside it. With the memory of her trip to the ER still fresh in her mind, she made for the fridge.

  No more skipped meals for this girl.

  The champagne Sue Ellen had brought occupied place of honor on the top shelf. Tonight would have been a great time to pop the cork, Andi thought, to toast the hiring of her first employee and the great sign hanging.

  She had to share the thrill of those events. Carrying the makings for a salad to the sink, she punched Sue Ellen’s speed-dial number.

  “Hey, y’all,” S.E.’s digitized recording chirped in her ear. “Leave a message.”

  “It’s Andi. I need to talk to you. Call me when you get home and we’ll… Oh, wait. I forgot. Tonight’s the big dining out at Whiting Field, isn’t it? Definitely call me. I want a full report.”

  She was munching her way through spinach greens and a grilled chicken breast when the phone shrilled. It was too early for Sue Ellen to render a report unless she was calling from the dining out.

  But it could be Dave. He may have seen her lights.

  Her pulse leaping, Andi grabbed the phone and checked caller ID. The USAF clinic at Hurlburt. Fighting a sharp stab of disappointment, she hit Talk.

  “Colonel Armstrong.”

  “Good evening, Colonel. This is Dr. Ramirez.”

  “You’re working late this evening, Doc. No soccer game tonight?”

  “Not tonight. I’ve been reviewing the results of your latest blood test and thought I should call you.”

  A groan formed deep in Andi’s chest. Oh, God! Not now. Not again. She’d just started to rebuild her world. Was it going to come crashing down around her again? She held her breath, awaiting the verdict.

  “Looks like the mix of antibiotics you’re taking has done the trick. Your blood shows no trace of acinetobacter baumannii.”

  Relief exploded through her in bright, happy starbursts. “For real?”

  “For real.”

  The flight surgeon let her revel in the results for a few moments.

  “This doesn’t mean you’re home free. That strain of bacteria has proved incredibly resilient. We need to continue to check your blood and your heart for at least another six months.”

  “No problem. What about the antibiotics? Should I stay with them?”

  “I’ve got you on a pretty powerful cocktail. Let’s stop the Amikacin and cut the Polymixin B to half. We’ll reassess d
osage after your next checkup.”

  Her reference to cocktails reminded Andi of the champagne in the fridge. “I’m in the mood to celebrate. Is it safe to down a glass of bubbly?”

  “A glass or two won’t hurt. Have one for me.”

  “I will. Thanks for the call, Doc.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Andi hip-hopped all the way to the fridge. With a few simple words the flight surgeon had blasted away the ugly black cloud that had been hanging over her almost half a year now. What a perfect ending to an already incredible day!

  Except she wasn’t ready for it to end. She wanted to share her news.

  She thought about calling her sister. Carol had been so shaken by the realization that her rock, the lifeline she’d clung to during those awful years of addiction, now had demons of her own to deal with. She’d begged Andi to come home to Ohio and promised to nurse her day and night, which would have driven them both nutso within a week.

  The shiny gold foil capping the Piper-Heidsieck decided the matter. She’d call Carol later. This news demanded in-person, in-the-flesh celebrating.

  Snagging the champagne, Andi wiggled her feet into her flip-flops and sailed out the side door.

  CHAPTER 13

  Dave opened the front door and felt his insides lurch sideways.

  Andi stood on the stoop, her eyes glowing like backlit emeralds in the porch lights. He needed only one look at her face, just one, to acknowledge he’d bend steel with his bare hands to keep this woman in his life.

  Grinning, she hefted a dew-streaked bottle. “I come bearing gifts.”

  “So I see.”

  “Care to join me in a snort?”

  “Sure.”

  When she waltzed into the foyer, Dave kick-started his heart and closed the door. Good thing he’d delayed his run. He might have missed her, although he would have preferred to greet her in something other than biker shorts and an airflow tank with oversize armholes.

  She, on the other hand, looked good enough to eat in a pink cotton top and drawstring slacks. He liked the way she’d drawn back her hair with that plastic clip, exposing the clean line of her jaw and throat. Liked even more the idea of tugging the clip loose and burying his face in the silky mass. Battling the urge, he ushered her down the hall.