one iota of difference what he did by getting in her car and driving away. Instead she quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And what direction is that?”
He seemed to be groping for an answer, but her patience had run out. She yanked open the car door. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”
“Wait,” he said. Like an idiot, she did. “What kind of job are you interviewing for?”
“A receptionist. At a law firm.” Why, oh why, had she answered him? Why couldn’t she just get in the car and drive away?
The space between his eyebrows narrowed. “Is the lawyer’s name Sara Brenneman?”
That stopped her from stepping into the car. “Yeah. Why? Do you know her?”
His mouth twisted. “She was at Johnny Pollock’s wedding with Michael Donahue.”
He snarled the last name, telling Laurie all she needed to know. The years hadn’t dulled his hatred for the man Chrissy Coleman had chosen over him.
“Goodbye, Kenny.” Laurie finally found the strength to get in the car and slam the door.
Kenny Grieb was an irresponsible lout, enough reason not to let him back into her life, but not the main reason.
No. The main reason she’d never again give Kenny her heart was that he hadn’t gotten his back from a dead woman.
“Y OU NEVER had any intention of hiring me!” The young woman Sara was interviewing for the position of office manager leaped to her feet, pointing an accusatory finger at Sara. “It’s because you heard I was pregnant, isn’t it?”
“Of course not,” Sara responded while she wondered what else could go wrong this morning.
First her alarm clock had blared just as Michael Donahue was pulling her into his arms, driving homethe frustrating fact they’d never get together outside her dreams.
Then her cell phone had rung with nothing but bad news. The phone company couldn’t send someone over until tomorrow, and the contractor she’d hired to paint the interior of her office couldn’t come at all.
And now this.
“Don’t you give me that!” the woman railed, her robust anger infusing her face with color and making her hair seem redder. “I know everybody in this shit hole of a town has been gossiping about me and Chase.”
By Chase, she must mean Chase Bradford, the best man at Johnny Pollock’s wedding. Now that the connection had been pointed out to her, Sara remembered where she’d seen the woman before—at the wedding, complaining to Chase that he was neglecting her. That was after Penelope had mentioned Chase’s girlfriend was pregnant.
But that was all the prior information Sara had had about Mandy Smith, the first of two women who’d responded to her ad for an office manager. Although Sara had specified applicants should e-mail her a résumé before their appointment, Mandy hadn’t provided one.
“You’re out of line, Ms. Smith,” Sara said, carefully keeping her own anger in check.
“Me? What about you? You’re the one who says I’m lying about being a receptionist!”
Sara gritted her teeth. “I said I needed to check your references.”
“Just forget it!” The woman was shouting now, although Sara wasn’t exactly sure why. “I wouldn’t work here if you begged me.”
She turned on her heel and stalked away, yanking open the door just as a brunette about Sara’s age was preparing to enter.
“If you’re here for an interview, don’t bother,” Mandy bit out. “You won’t like the boss.”
Mandy brushed past the new arrival, who looked at Sara and made a comical face. Dressed in a suit so red it assaulted the eyes, the woman had an open, friendly face and wildly curling brown hair. “Are you the boss I won’t like? You look okay to me but I could be missing something. You don’t have horns, do you?”
Sara’s heart rate, which had elevated during the confrontation, began to slow. This was a woman she could like. “They’re retractable.”
The woman’s laugh started low in her throat and rumbled outward, an infectious sound.
“I’m Laurie,
He seemed to be groping for an answer, but her patience had run out. She yanked open the car door. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”
“Wait,” he said. Like an idiot, she did. “What kind of job are you interviewing for?”
“A receptionist. At a law firm.” Why, oh why, had she answered him? Why couldn’t she just get in the car and drive away?
The space between his eyebrows narrowed. “Is the lawyer’s name Sara Brenneman?”
That stopped her from stepping into the car. “Yeah. Why? Do you know her?”
His mouth twisted. “She was at Johnny Pollock’s wedding with Michael Donahue.”
He snarled the last name, telling Laurie all she needed to know. The years hadn’t dulled his hatred for the man Chrissy Coleman had chosen over him.
“Goodbye, Kenny.” Laurie finally found the strength to get in the car and slam the door.
Kenny Grieb was an irresponsible lout, enough reason not to let him back into her life, but not the main reason.
No. The main reason she’d never again give Kenny her heart was that he hadn’t gotten his back from a dead woman.
“Y OU NEVER had any intention of hiring me!” The young woman Sara was interviewing for the position of office manager leaped to her feet, pointing an accusatory finger at Sara. “It’s because you heard I was pregnant, isn’t it?”
“Of course not,” Sara responded while she wondered what else could go wrong this morning.
First her alarm clock had blared just as Michael Donahue was pulling her into his arms, driving homethe frustrating fact they’d never get together outside her dreams.
Then her cell phone had rung with nothing but bad news. The phone company couldn’t send someone over until tomorrow, and the contractor she’d hired to paint the interior of her office couldn’t come at all.
And now this.
“Don’t you give me that!” the woman railed, her robust anger infusing her face with color and making her hair seem redder. “I know everybody in this shit hole of a town has been gossiping about me and Chase.”
By Chase, she must mean Chase Bradford, the best man at Johnny Pollock’s wedding. Now that the connection had been pointed out to her, Sara remembered where she’d seen the woman before—at the wedding, complaining to Chase that he was neglecting her. That was after Penelope had mentioned Chase’s girlfriend was pregnant.
But that was all the prior information Sara had had about Mandy Smith, the first of two women who’d responded to her ad for an office manager. Although Sara had specified applicants should e-mail her a résumé before their appointment, Mandy hadn’t provided one.
“You’re out of line, Ms. Smith,” Sara said, carefully keeping her own anger in check.
“Me? What about you? You’re the one who says I’m lying about being a receptionist!”
Sara gritted her teeth. “I said I needed to check your references.”
“Just forget it!” The woman was shouting now, although Sara wasn’t exactly sure why. “I wouldn’t work here if you begged me.”
She turned on her heel and stalked away, yanking open the door just as a brunette about Sara’s age was preparing to enter.
“If you’re here for an interview, don’t bother,” Mandy bit out. “You won’t like the boss.”
Mandy brushed past the new arrival, who looked at Sara and made a comical face. Dressed in a suit so red it assaulted the eyes, the woman had an open, friendly face and wildly curling brown hair. “Are you the boss I won’t like? You look okay to me but I could be missing something. You don’t have horns, do you?”
Sara’s heart rate, which had elevated during the confrontation, began to slow. This was a woman she could like. “They’re retractable.”
The woman’s laugh started low in her throat and rumbled outward, an infectious sound.
“I’m Laurie,
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