Tangled Up in Love by Heidi Betts Page B

Charlotte said, handing her a soft, thick skein of black yarn. “I hope you’ll use it.”
    “Of course I will.” Ronnie smiled and gave Charlotte a tight hug. “You know your yarns are my very favorite to work with. Thank you.”
    Charlotte’s smile was wide and pleased. “I’m gladto hear it. Maybe you can even use it to help that Dylan fellow learn to knit.”
    Ronnie pulled back, studying Charlotte’s face. Was she blushing? And why wouldn’t the woman look her in the eye?
    “I’m not sure that’s going to happen,” she said slowly, “but thank you all the same. I really will put this to good use.”
    Tucking the yarn into her brightly checkered bag, she started toward the curb again. “Drive carefully, Charlotte. I’ll see you next week.”
    It wasn’t unusual for Charlotte to give skeins of her homemade yarn to the ladies in the knitting group. Usually, though, she brought enough for everyone and handed them out during their meetings. And she’d never before handed one to Ronnie with such an odd expression on her face.
    Maybe it was the weather, or the time of night, or even the amount of pressure Ronnie felt pressing down on her from every direction these days that had her forming conspiracy theories about a dear old woman who was only being nice. She was tired and annoyed and reading too much into the situation.
    But when she drove past The Yarn Barn on her way out of the parking lot and found Charlotte standing exactly where she’d left her in front of the double glass doors, her suspicions sprang to life all over again.
    Honestly, what was
with
people these days? Charlotte acting strangely, her archnemesis asking her to help him . . . As she drove home, she let herself remember and long for the days when those around her acted normal and didn’t intentionally try to drive her into the wacko ward of the nearest mental health facility.
    Though she probably could have afforded better, she lived in a modest downtown apartment complex overlooking Lake Erie. The wind blew a bit stronger and colder this close to the lake, but then all of Cleveland was positively frigid during the winter months, so she couldn’t see that it mattered much one way or the other.
    She let herself into the building, then took the elevator up to the third floor and walked down the short hall to her apartment door. Inside, she shrugged out of her coat, kicked off her shoes, and unzipped her skirt on the way to her bedroom.
    Stripping out of her work clothes, she padded naked into the bathroom to remove her makeup, wash her face, and take a nice hot shower. With her hair still wet and falling loose around her shoulders, she put on a pair of cotton lounge pants and matching top, then made her way back to the living room.
    She set up her laptop on the low coffee table before running to the kitchen for a glass of water. Drink in hand, she returned to her computer and sat cross-legged on the floor with her back to the sofa to work on her latest column.
    It should have been written already. Would have been, except that she’d been putting it off. She couldn’t seem to land on a decent topic and had been distracted by Dylan’s latest proposition.
    Her brows knit as she admitted the last, hating that he had any effect on her at all, especially if it meant muddling her brain when it came to her job.
    In the past, she’d covered issues ranging from those as serious as safe sex and self-defense for women to those as inconsequential as nail polish brand comparisons and popular cocktail recipes.
    This week, she was torn between writing about how to get rid of a guy you weren’t interested in—but who always seemed to be around, becoming a complete pain in the ass—or warning readers about a popular downtown eatery that was rumored to be bribing health inspectors to stay in business. The idea of venting her frustrations with The Jackass was tempting, but honor—and a fair share of potential guilt—dictated that she alert the