The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two)

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The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two) Page 29

by Longley, Barbara


  Paige slipped her arms around his waist. “She’s saying goodbye, letting you go with her blessing.”

  “More likely a wrong number and a poor signal.” He drew her in for a kiss. Though he might say that out loud, in his heart he agreed. Theresa had let him go, and he held his future in his arms. His heart was full, and he was well on the way to becoming whole. “Want to go exploring with the ATV?”

  “Not today. Your mom needs help with the party stuff. We can come back tomorrow—with horses. I’m a good rider, Ryan. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  He laughed. “I love the way you tell me exactly what you want and what you think, babe. I love you.”

  “That stupid grin you’re wearing is getting on my last nerve.” Ted glared at Ryan as he slid into his chair for their Tuesday-morning staff meeting. He set a mug of coffee on the table in front of him. “Only the good coffee makes it bearable.”

  “Tough. Get used to it.” Ryan shot him an extra-wide dumbass grin as Noah took his usual place in the corner. Lord, it was good to be home, even better to have Paige beside him.

  “Can we get started?” Bossy Paige handed out sheets of paper with the outline for their five-year plan. “Once the new line launches, we’re going to need additional help. What I’m suggesting is that we add a second shift and hire them as finishers. It’s not too difficult to train someone to sand, stain, and varnish, is it?”

  “No. It’s doable.” Noah scanned her outline.

  “Training a crew of finishers would free you three up to increase production, while still maintaining our commitment to handcrafting each piece. Allow employees to work their way into production with a nice raise if they want to.” Her gaze turned to Ted. “Within three years, you’re going to have your hands full with administrative duties. Eventually, you’ll have to quit production and go full-time admin.” She turned to Noah. “You’ll be in charge of the crew, training, and production. We’re hiring veterans to stay true to our mission, and you’re a natural-born leader.”

  Noah’s eyes widened. “Is that how you see me?”

  “It’s how we all see you, bro.” Ryan nodded. “Even if Paige hadn’t written it down on that piece of paper, the guys would naturally gravitate to you for direction, Lieutenant.” A wave of gratitude nearly bowled over Ryan. The man had saved his life, pure and simple.

  Paige brought them back to task. “Another incentive for our future employees would be giving them the opportunity to come up with ideas for new products. Offer a bonus for pieces we use. Ryan, you’ll head up the new design department, which will include advertising. That reminds me, we ought to enter some pieces in crafters’ competitions or juried artisan shows. That would be another way to get exposure.”

  “We have departments?” Ted’s eyes widened.

  “We do now. Are you OK with going into admin, Ted? Will you miss production?”

  “I’m fine with it as long as I can drop back in whenever needed.”

  “That’ll work.” She smiled. “I want to have a retail venue in Evansville within five years. Does everyone agree to that?” Her gaze went around the table.

  “Sounds great,” Noah replied. “Ted?”

  “I’m all for it.”

  Ryan turned to face Noah. “One other thing—Paige and I would like to fix up the apartment on the third floor, bring it up-to-code and up-to-date. The carriage house is too small for the two of us, and we’d like to rent the space here. For cheap.”

  Noah scowled his way. “You want to shack up with my baby sister?”

  “Noah…” Paige’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.

  “No. I’m going to marry your baby sister, and we can’t afford a house yet because we don’t make squat working here.”

  Noah laughed, rose from his chair, and offered Ryan his hand. “That’s good, because I didn’t really want to beat the shit out of you.”

  Ryan took his hand in his. “Like you could.”

  Noah grinned. “Sure. Let’s fix the place up. I’ll help.”

  “Congratulations, you two.” Ted shot him a shuttered look. “I’m happy for you both.”

  “You’ll be fine, kid.” Ryan sat back down. “You do realize what has happened, don’t you?”

  Noah’s brow creased. “What’s that?”

  “Your sister just took over the family business.” Ryan grinned, surveying the two men he’d come to care so much about. But it wasn’t only the business. Paige had taken over his heart, and though he had a long way to go before he was back on the right side of normal, he had a future.

  Read on for a sneak peek of Barbara Longley’s next novel set in Perfect, Indiana.

  A CHANGE OF HEART

  Available October 2013 on Amazon.com

  “CORY, BABY.” HER MOTHER KNOCKED on her door. “Brenda Holt is here to see you.”

  “Tell her I’m not feeling well.” She couldn’t face anyone. Not now. She pulled the bedspread over her head.

  The door creaked open. “I’m not leavin’ this room until you agree to come on out and say hello. Brenda made the effort to visit. Now you’re gonna make the effort to haul your butt outta that bed. You hear?”

  She knew that tone. When Claire Marcel made up her mind, nothing could sway her. “Fine.” She threw off the covers and sat up. “Give me a few minutes.”

  “Good. We’ll be in the livin’ room.”

  The door shut, and Cory dragged herself out of bed to the army-issue duffel bag on the floor. She found an almost clean pair of sweats and pulled them on.

  She walked down the hall to the shabby living room. The two sat on the couch, huddled over her mother’s scrapbook of the media frenzy surrounding Cory’s court case. Her stomach hit the dirt. Dammit. How could she show that to anyone? Why would she want to? Bile burned the back of her throat, and she turned around and headed back to her room.

  “There you are,” her mother called. “I was just telling Brenda how proud I am of you.”

  “Hey, Cory.” Brenda took the scrapbook from her mother’s hands and set it aside. “It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other. Let’s go for a walk.”

  “Outside?” Her heart raced, and dread spread like an oil spill in her chest.

  “Unless you want to walk up and down the hall here.” Brenda’s expression filled with sympathy, and something else. Concern? “Let’s go to the playground like we used to.”

  “What’s it like out there?” Cory bit her lower lip, assessing the risk.

  Brenda raised a single arched eyebrow. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “No, it’s more a weather question.” She averted her gaze and swallowed hard. Brenda must have thought she’d gone mental.

  “It’s like a typical June day in southern Indiana. The sun’s out. It’s hot, and you’re way overdressed.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  She slipped her feet into an old pair of flip-flops by the door and walked beside Brenda toward the old rusty playground where they’d spent countless hours as kids.

  The slide had taken on a pronounced tilt to the right, and the heavy steel frame of the swing set had more rust than she remembered, but otherwise, nothing had changed.

  “Your mom is proud of you. We all are.” Brenda glanced at her.

  “Can we talk about something else?” Cory’s empty stomach churned, and she studied the stunted grass growing around the bare dirt under her feet. “What are you doing these days? Last time we talked, you were in school.”

  “Sure.” Brenda sent her swing into motion. “I graduated from cosmetology college, and I work in a really nice salon in town now. I’m doing OK for myself.” She planted her feet to stop the swing. “Did you hear Wesley’s home? He retired.”

  “No, I hadn’t heard.” Her eyes widened. “We were just little kids when he joined the marines.” She shook her head. “Has it been twenty years already?”

  “Yeah. We were seven when he left. Which leads me to my next question. What are you going to do now
that your case is behind you?”

  “It’s not behind me.” Hot, angry tears filled her eyes once again at the ultimate betrayal of her loyalty and trust. “The Veteran’s Legal Clinic is working on getting disability benefits for me.”

  “Is that what you want—disability checks for the rest of your life while you hide out in your mom’s mobile home? That doesn’t sound like the Corinna Lynn Marcel I’ve known since we were four.”

  “That girl is gone.”

  Brenda reached out and touched her forearm. Cory jerked away.

  “Hey, it’s just me.” Her friend set her hands in her lap. “Wesley is working at a custom furniture company in Perfect. The owner is a veteran.”

  “Oh.” Her mind was only half-engaged. The other half floated from a distance, watching the conversation with disorienting detachment.

  “Langford & Lovejoy Heritage Furniture only hires veterans. Wes told me they’re looking for someone to take over maintaining their social media.”

  Cory nodded distractedly, the pervasive sense of detachment spreading. Time to head back to bed.

  “He told the owner about you.”

  “What?” Cory blinked. “Why?”

  “Because you have skills. You were an IT specialist. You’re perfect for the job.”

  Shit. “I’m not perfect for anything. I can barely get of bed. I don’t think—”

  “Nope. Stop.” Brenda shook her head. “This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to go take a shower and brush your teeth. Please.” She waved a hand in front of her nose. “Shave your legs and pits while you’re at it.”

  “Well, that was brutal.”

  “You need brutal.” Brenda stared a hole through her. “I brought my equipment with me. You have a job interview tomorrow evening, and I’m here to make sure you look your best.”

  “What? NO!” Her blood turned to ice water, chilling her to the sludge-filled center of her bones.

  “Yep. Let’s go. Hup, hup.” Brenda pulled her up and pointed her toward home. “Right, left, right, left. March. You stink, and your hair is a greasy, stringy mess.”

  “I like it this way.”

  “No, you don’t.” Brenda gave her a gentle nudge. “Ready or not, here comes your new life.”

  “I’m not ready.” Panic sent her heart racing, tightening her chest and robbing her of breath. “I’m not ready, dammit.”

  “I can’t believe you did it again!” Ted shouted, raking both hands through his hair. “You swore I would be part of the hiring process. You swore.” He glared at Noah.

  No one seemed to care that he was the Lovejoy part of Langford & Lovejoy. Even though Ted was a full partner and the human resources guy, to boot, Noah continued to make staffing decisions without conferring with him.

  “This case was an emergency.” Noah widened his stance and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Besides, I said I’d try to follow the hiring procedures, and for the most part, I have. Cory is an exception. Plus, you agreed we need someone to take over the web maintenance, social media, and order processing.”

  “That’s beside the point. Did you post the job? Take applications? How about an interview including me?”

  “Hey, kid. What’s got your boxers in a bunch?” Ryan strolled into the conference room for their usual Monday-morning meeting. “We could hear you shouting from the first floor.”

  “Maybe it’s the fact that you and everybody else around here still see me as a kid. I have a fucking master’s in business administration, and I sign your paycheck.”

  Paige waddled in behind her husband, rubbing her distended belly. “Watch your language. I don’t want the baby to pick that stuff up.”

  And there it was, the other exclusive club he couldn’t gain entrance to—the happily married and reproducing group. Ryan and Paige had just finished building their house on the east side of town and were expecting their first child. Noah and his cousin Ceejay were also expecting. This was number four for them. Ted rolled his eyes. “At thirty weeks, I doubt that pea in the pod is paying attention to what goes on at L&L.”

  “They do.” She laid her folder on the table and settled into her chair. “Babies can hear things.”

  “Whatever.” He took his customary place with his back to the door. “I don’t care if this Cory guy is a freaking genius. You had no business hiring him without my say-so,” he snapped.

  Noah’s jaw twitched. “Cory is—”

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I should leave,” a soft, feminine voice said from behind him.

  “Don’t listen to him, Cory.” Paige leaned back and smiled. “Come in and have a seat.”

  Huh? Ted whipped around, his eyes widening at the sight of the waif standing uncertainly in the doorway. Feathery layers of dark-brown hair with lighter golden-brown highlights framed her wide-set, luminous brown eyes. She wore jeans and a peasant blouse that failed to hide how thin she was. He brought his gaze back to those doe eyes of hers and fell right in. They held a sadness so profound it would take a deep-sea submersible to get to the source.

  Noah shot him a look that said he’d better be nice or else. “Ted, meet Cory Marcel. Cory, this is Ted Lovejoy, my sister Paige, and her husband Ryan. Cory is an IT specialist and a whiz with computers.”

  Damn. Ted shot up from his chair, almost knocking it over in his haste. It couldn’t have been pleasant for her to hear his rant. “Welcome to L&L. It’s good to have you aboard.” Their eyes met and held. Her brow creased, and she looked away, but not before he caught a glimpse of the alarm clouding her features. I’m alarming? Great.

  Shifting his attention back to their newest employee, he wondered what it was about her situation that had prompted Noah to disregard their protocol. What would it take to coax a smile out of her? He fantasized about what her smile might look like.

  What? No. He didn’t need or want to get involved. He had enough problems of his own.

  Paige passed a sheet of paper to all of them. “This is the list I made of Cory’s responsibilities.” She turned to face her and grinned. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have another woman in the building.”

  “Thank you.” Cory skimmed the list. “Where will I be working?”

  “You and I will share the office at the end of the hall by the stairs,” Paige told her.

  “Does the…” Color rose to Cory’s cheeks, and her expression closed up tight. “Is there a lock on the door?”

  Paige leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “You’re safe here, Cory. The men who work for us are more likely to be overly protective than anything else. As the only woman on this all-male staff for the past three years, I can personally vouch for every one of our guys.”

  Mystified by the exchange, Ted frowned. “If that’s what you need, I’ll put a dead bolt on the door right after we’re done here.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his for a fraction of second before she dropped them again to the list. “I’d appreciate that.”

  What the hell had happened to this woman?

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I HAVE TO SAY A special thank you to my friend Tami Hughes, who has been with me on this journey since the beginning. Without her input, insights, and support, I wouldn’t be here today. I want to thank Jeffrey and Laurel Otis, who put up with my endless “book talk” and still support and cheer me on. A shout-out to my friend Donna Meier. I love our monthly get-togethers. A special thanks goes to the outstanding Montlake Romance editorial staff and author team. You guys rock. Thank you to my wonderful agent Nalini Akolekar. And last but certainly not least, to all of the men and women who put on that uniform every day and serve our country, thank you.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo by Glamour Shots, 2011

  AS A CHILD, BARBARA LONGLEY moved frequently, learning early on how to entertain herself with stories. Adulthood didn’t tame her peripatetic ways: she has lived on an Appalachian commune, taught on an Indian reservation, and traveled the country
from coast to coast. After having children of her own, she decided to try staying put, choosing Minnesota as her home. By day, she puts her master’s degree in special education to use teaching elementary school. By night, she explores all things mythical, paranormal, and newsworthy, channeling what she learns into her writing.

 

 

 


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