“You two are definitely sisters. Me? I’d fly down to Cabo San Lucas and spend a week at a spa.”
“Being oiled and pummeled by a hunky young masseur?”
“Of course. Why else would anyone go to a spa?”
Snorting, Andi returned the juice carton to the fridge and issued a quick invitation. “Dave said he had to drive over to CENTCOM headquarters this afternoon and won’t be back until late. Why don’t you join Carol and me for dinner? I’ll ask Karen if she can join us, too.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll swing by the shop after work.”
“See you then.”
CHAPTER 16
“It’s just a small shop,” Andi warned as she steered the Tahoe down Gulf Springs’s main street. “Nothing like the Town-and-Country bookstore in Dayton.”
Her sister shrugged aside the comparison. “That store is so huge you can get lost in it.”
“I tailored my selections to my target customer base. You won’t find the same variety as in a big chain.”
“I wouldn’t expect to.”
Ridiculously nervous about showing off her baby, Andi spotted a headful of bright red hair in the vehicle just ahead.
“That’s Karen Duchek. She’s my only employee at this point. She’s as addicted to books as I am. Correction—as addicted as we are.”
Smiling, Carol delved into their bank of shared memories. “Remember the summer we discovered Georgette Heyer?”
“How could I forget? You got your license that summer. Dad went ballistic at all the miles we put on the car, driving from library to library.”
Those were the long-ago days before Internet bookstores…and before either sister could afford to buy books instead of borrowing them from a public library.
“It took us most of the summer,” Andi recalled, “but we managed to track down every Georgette Heyer in a three-state region.”
“Then we’d take our latest finds to that Italian place on Route 7 and hog a booth for hours, scarfing down spaghetti and pizza and garlic bread while we read. Friday’s Child is still my all-time favorite.”
It would be, Andi thought on a rush of affection. Like the timid heroine in that book, Carol had discovered a core of strength she hadn’t realized she possessed and conquered personal demons.
“I love The Grand Sophy. I reread it every few years.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Pretending to be deep in thought, Carol drummed her fingers on the leather armrest. “How did the other characters in the book describe Sophy? I think the term was managing.”
“Hey, some folks are managing and some are just well organized. I happen to fall into the latter category.”
Her sister huffed in derision. “Well organized doesn’t come close to describing you, my child. Do you still inventory and color code your CDs?”
“Of course. What else are color tabs and spreadsheets for? Speaking of which…”
Pulling into the parking slot next to Karen, Andi killed the Tahoe’s engine and grabbed her tote from the backseat.
“Wait until you see the inventory scanning-and-ordering system we’ve set up. It’s mucho slick.”
Carol didn’t answer. Andi turned to find her staring openmouthed at the window display.
“Roger Brent?” she gasped. “Here? Tomorrow?”
Andi swallowed a sigh of relief. Judging by Carol’s reaction, she’d derive as much pleasure from the shop as her sister did.
“In the flesh,” she answered happily.
“Omigod. I loved Blood Squad.”
“Wait until you read Return to Aravanche. It’s even better.”
Descending from the Tahoe, Andi hailed her employee. “Hey, Karen. This is my sister, Carol. She’s a hopeless bibliophile, too.”
Looking more like a teenager than a mother in her flower-print smock dress and round-toed Mary Janes, Karen smiled a welcome. “Nice to meet you. Andi didn’t mention you were coming down to Florida for her grand opening.”
“She didn’t know.”
“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision,” Andi said, smoothly deflecting any further explanations until Carol felt ready to give them. “Come on, sis. Karen and I will give you the two-dollar tour. Then we all roll up our sleeves and prepare for the hordes that will descend on us tomorrow.”
Praying her breezy prediction proved true, she unlocked the door, deactivated the alarm and ushered her sister and her employee into the world of mystery, adventure and romance.
THE THREE WOMEN WORKED nonstop the entire day. Andi spent most of it doing phone interviews with local radio stations eager to follow up on the PR Brent’s publisher had sent out. Carol got busy unboxing and scanning the additional copies of Return to Avaranche ordered in at the last minute.
Karen was in charge of refreshments. After checking with Heather and Sam across the street to make sure they’d deliver the promised platters of boiled shrimp, buffalo wings and fried mozzarella sticks, she hit the bakery. There she confirmed their order for cookies and the monster cake decorated with the shop’s logo. That done, she picked up cups, plates and napkins from the Hallmark store farther down Main and the colorful pennants Andi wanted to string from street lamp to street lamp.
“Are you sure it’s okay to put these up?” Carol asked, looping a strand over one shoulder. “Don’t you need permission from the city or something?”
“I am the city,” Andi confessed. “You’re looking at a member of the town council.”
“You’re kidding! How did that happen?”
“Same way the bookshop happened. Seems I have this constitutional need for perpetual motion. And, yes, I duly submitted my request in writing and received permission from the mayor himself. Wait here. I’ll get the ladder.”
Remembering the near catastrophe the last time she’d climbed up and overextended, Andi positioned the ladder carefully. She was about to mount it when Sue Ellen drove up with Crash.
Carol knew S.E. from previous visits to her sister. This was her first exposure to Major Bill Steadman, however. Karen’s, as well.
The two women managed to refrain from ogling—barely!—but even Andi gulped when the curly-haired Adonis swung out of S.E.’s low-slung sports car.
“We thought you might need some last-minute muscle,” Sue Ellen announced, gliding a proprietary palm over Crash’s biceps. “We’re here to serve.”
“I’ll take that,” he said, reaching for the ladder.
With Crash to do the hanging, Andi formed a chain with Karen and Carol to feed him the pennants while Sue Ellen eyeballed his placement. Their activities brought out other shop owners and interested bystanders. Several lent willing hands.
In the midst of the activity, Karen’s husband and boys arrived on the scene. The boys’ hair was as coppery red as their mother’s, their spirits every bit as lively as she’d warned.
“This is Ben.” Beaming with pride, Karen tapped two bright heads in turn. “This is Charlie. And this is my husband, Jerry.”
Still in uniform, Staff Sergeant Duchek offered Andi a handshake and a warm smile. “Karen’s talked nonstop about this shop since the day she started here. She’s thrilled to be part of it.”
“Not as thrilled as I am to have her.”
“We brought the video games for the kids’ section,” Ben announced, clutching a plastic sack. “They’re really cool.”
“Thanks for picking them out for me. Want to test them on the computer while we finish here?”
“Sure.”
The boys darted for the door. Their mom hastily followed. “I’d better supervise. Jerry, will you help here?”
With so much assistance, stringing the remaining pennants went fast. Soon eye-popping neon flags crisscrossed Main Street for an entire block before arrowing toward the front door of A Great Read.
“Looks good,” Sue Ellen observed, dusting her hands on the seat of her designer jeans. “Very good, if I do say so myself. What’s the next item on your checklist?”
“There isn�
��t one. We’re done.”
Her pansy eyes widened in astonishment. “I don’t believe it. You’ve actually run out of to dos?”
“For tonight. No, wait. There is one more item.”
“I knew it.”
“Dinner. My treat.” Her happy grin encompassed Sue Ellen, Crash, Carol and the Ducheks. “We’ll make it our very own prelaunch party.”
In short order they had the boxes compacted, the computers shut down, the ladder put away and the shop locked. Feeling like a general at the head of a column, Andi led her troops across the street to Cap’n Sam’s.
Heather seated them at a round table near the window. Sam tipped his spatula in greeting and promised to fry up a fresh batch of hush puppies. The boys kept things so lively and the laughter flowed so freely that Andi almost missed her cell phone’s ringtone.
Her pulse sped up when she glanced at caller ID and saw Dave’s name on the screen. He was all she needed to make the celebration complete. To make her family complete, she amended with a flutter of quiet joy.
“Where are you?” she asked by way of greeting.
“On my way back from MacDill. Where are you?”
“At Cap’n Sam’s.”
“Sounds like half of Gulf Springs is there with you.”
“Nope, just Carol, Sue Ellen, Crash, Karen, her husband, Jerry, and her boys. We’re having a preopening celebration. Come join us.”
“I will, but I’m at least a half hour out.”
“No problem. We just put our order in. We’ll still be chowing down when you get here.”
“Okay.”
He added something else, but the background noise drowned him out.
“What did you say?”
“I said I need to talk to you. Maybe we could walk down to the beach after we get home.”
“Sure.” She turned a shoulder to the others and lowered her voice to a husky promise. “Or we could go back to your place for a private party.”
“Private sounds good. See you shortly.”
“That was Dave,” Andi announced to the group. “He’s going to join us, but it might be a while. He’s on his way back from CENTCOM headquarters.”
Crash looked up from the tic-tac-toe game he and Ben had sketched on the paper place mat.
“Did he say whether he got the assignment?”
Andi’s happy grin slipped. Carefully she laid her cell phone beside her paper-wrapped plastic knife and fork.
“What assignment?”
Crash grimaced and looked as though he’d just swallowed a particularly vile oath. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s still just a rumor.”
“What is?”
“JTF-6. The rumors are flying at Whiting Field that Colonel Armstrong will get command.”
Frowning, Sue Ellen jumped in. As a former military spouse, she knew what the initials stood for in general but not the specific designation. “What and where is JTF-6?”
“A multiservice Special Ops task force,” Andi replied, struggling for breath. “Headquartered at Al-Udeid Air Base in Qatar.”
“Dave’s going to the Persian Gulf? Sh—” S.E. glanced at the boys, caught herself just in time and finished with a lame, “Shoot!”
Karen and her husband exchanged quick glances. Crash squirmed in his chair. Carol chewed on her lower lip, obviously trying to assess the impact of Dave’s assignment on her sister.
Andi could have told her. She felt as though a big, black chasm had just opened up under her feet. Her throat tight, she quizzed Crash.
“I thought—that is, Dave told me his assignment was canceled.”
“It was. The Navy lobbied all the way to the president to put one of their own in that billet. Poindexter supposedly had it in the bag, but, well…”
He glanced around the table, seeking help. All he got was a fierce scowl from Sue Ellen, frowns from the other adults and puzzled looks from the boys. Blowing out a breath, Crash tried to ease the blow.
“JTF-6 is a star maker. You watch, Andi. Dave will come out on the next general’s list.”
She stretched her lips until they cracked. “I hope so. He certainly deserves it. Oh, good. Here’s Heather with our salads and hush puppies.”
Dipping her chin, she pretended to fiddle with her utensils. She couldn’t breathe, could barely think.
They’d come so close, she and Dave.
So freaking close!
Burying her hands in her lap, she wadded her paper napkin into a tight ball. She’d thought they’d get in at least six months or a year before they had to say goodbye again. Had hoped against hope they could fill the empty void of the past four years with bright new memories before they had to draw on them to get through another separation.
Dammit, they were going to do it right this time. Meld their lives, their work, their needs.
She wanted to weep with disappointment and frustration and the aching fear that she and Dave would lose each other a second time. Instead she faced a ring of worried friends and reached deep inside herself for a smile.
“Hey! This is supposed to be a celebration. Lift your glasses, everyone. We need a toast.”
“I’ve got one.” Sue Ellen thrust out her glass toward the center of the table. “Here’s to A Great Read. May she reap many readers and much profit.”
Beer and cola sloshed as seven other glasses clinked against hers.
“Hear, hear!”
“To A Great Read.”
“To great sales.”
Everyone got into the act after that, offering salutes to much-loved books, to bestselling authors in general and Roger Brent in particular, to favorite video games.
“Now me.” Shy but determined, Karen shoved back her chair and rose. “Here’s to you, boss. May all your dreams for yourself and your shop—”
“Our shop.”
Her cheeks flushed with pleasure and pride. “May all your dreams for yourself and our shop come true.”
Giving her best imitation of a woman whose dreams hadn’t suddenly turned to salt, Andi raised her glass again.
“Thanks, Karen.”
EVERYONE AT THE TABLE worked to maintain a gay atmosphere through the meal that followed. Andi stayed as animated as the others, but her mind kept zinging back to the possibility Dave had been tapped for command of the task force slated to go into Qatar.
Andi had been to Qatar, had witnessed some of the massive buildup of bases there in anticipation of the pullout from Iraq. She knew those bases would provide launch platforms for the highly skilled, highly mobile forces of JTF-6 in the event they had to make a lightning redeployment into Iraq or Iran or any other country that threatened the area’s shaky stability.
She also knew the U.S. military weren’t the only Americans in Qatar. One of her coworkers at the Pentagon had retired a few months before she did and was now a defense contractor pulling in big bucks. She could e-mail him, find out who she needed to talk to, see what openings the company had.
Gulping, she raised a hand and fingered the small, hard ridge on her chin. The prospect of going back to the biting desert winds and stinging sand made her feel sick. Almost as sick as the idea of closing her bookstore mere weeks or months after it opened.
Slowly she shifted in her seat until she had a clear view through the window. The strings of bright neon triangles glowed in the slowly gathering dusk. The timer on her shop sign had kicked on, illuminating the display beneath. The towering pyramid of Return to Avaranche made her chest squeeze.
They were just books, she reminded herself fiercely. Just words. They gave pleasure but not love. Hope but not commitment.
Her thoughts whirling, she stared at the shop across the street until a pair of headlights stabbed through the purple haze. Dave’s pickup turned onto Main a second later.
Like iron filings dropped near a magnet, everything snapped into place. Andi’s doubts fled and her decision came fast and sure.
Separate careers and separate assignments had dr
iven a wedge between Dave and her once before. She would not let that happen again.
No more goodbyes, she vowed, shoving back her chair. No more empty nights. Whither thou goest, Armstrong, I’m damn well going, too.
“’Scuse me, folks. I need to talk to my husband.”
Darting across the street, she waved Dave into the parking slot next to her Tahoe. He got out of his vehicle looking big and handsome and tough as hell in his boots, bloused BDUs and beret.
“I thought the party was at Cap’n Sam’s,” he commented as she rooted around in her purse for her shop keys.
“It was. Is. Everyone’s still there, but we need to have that talk you mentioned. I thought it would be better if we had it here.”
He didn’t comment on the fact that the discussion they’d agreed to have later that night had suddenly moved up on the agenda. That told Andi he was as anxious to get it over with as she was. Jamming the key into the lock, she decided to make it easy on him.
“I know about the JTF-6 assignment, Dave.”
“Well, hell! The word’s already on the street?”
“It is.”
She shouldered open the door, felt for the light switch and flicked it upward. The papery smell of books greeted her like an old friend and started her thoughts whirling. The lease on the store ran for six months. Depending on when Dave had to leave, maybe she could operate her shop for a while, see how it did, then either shut down or leave someone else in charge. Karen, if she could extend her hours. Or Carol, if she decided to stay in Florida.
Consumed by her thoughts, Andi was two or three steps into the store when she realized only the display spots had come on. The main fluorescent overheads remained dark. So, she noticed belatedly, did the alarm panel.
“What…?”
That’s all she got out before she heard a faint whoosh coming from above her head. She craned her neck, searching the dimly lit ceiling. The next instant, water spewed from the sprinkler heads and sprayed downward, hitting Andi smack in the face.
She screeched.
Dave spit out a curse.
Ex Marks the Spot (Harlequin Next) Page 17
