Deadly Notions - By Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page 0,50
sure how you’d look with your hair in a bun. Your face isn’t necessarily the best shape for that kind of look.”
Don’t give her what she wants, dear.
And just like that, she felt her shoulders relax, Leona’s voice in her head spouting exactly the sentiment she needed to hear. If she had had any lingering doubt as to Beth’s motives where Milo was concerned, they were officially gone.
Beth Samuelson was out to get Milo. Of that she was certain. What was a little less certain, however, was whether she’d be content to stop at simple innuendos obviously designed and orchestrated to shake Tori’s confidence.
Nina met her at the back door to the library with a near face-splitting smile and a long poster tube. “I was hoping you’d get here early.”
Tori nodded as she reached past her assistant with the key and inserted it into the lock. “You could have went inside you know.”
“I know. But when I was walkin’ toward the steps just now I saw you walkin’ across the street. Figured it would be just as easy to wait.”
“Sometimes it pays to keep walking,” she mumbled before pushing the door open and stepping to the side to afford Nina passage.
Nina took two steps inside and then slowly turned, her large dark eyes trained on Tori’s. “Is everything okay?”
She lifted the tulip to her nose and inhaled slowly. “It was. And it will be now that I’m here but—you know what? Never mind. My day is only affected if I let it be affected, right?”
“Sounds like somethin’ my Duwayne would say.”
Squeezing Nina’s arm gently, she strode past the woman and into their shared office. “Your Duwayne is a very smart man.”
Nina followed, her smile of earlier returning in spades. “I know. In fact”—she pulled three posters from the tube and unrolled them for Tori to see—“he helped me with these all night. He was insistent that the placement of the words and pictures be just so in order to catch the kids’ attention at the high school.”
“The kids . . .” Her words disappeared as she leaned forward, her attention riveted on the homemade poster Nina had created for the walls of the high school. Bold lettering announcing the book club’s creation wound around pictures of some of the most popular teen titles. Scattered around the edges were clip-art pictures of teen-friendly foods like popcorn, ice cream, and soda. “Oh, Nina, I love it. It’s perfect.”
Nina’s face brightened even more. “You really think so?”
She looked again, her gaze sucked in by the visual appeal the poster offered. “Actually, I know it’s perfect.”
“Duwayne is goin’ to be tickled when I tell him.”
“I’m glad.” And she was. Pride was something everyone needed. It gave a person wings to accomplish even greater things.
“Your flower is beautiful.” Nina pointed to Tori’s hand. “It’s even your favorite color.”
“You’re right, it is.” She brought the flower to her nose once again and inhaled, the delicate aroma doing wonders against any lingering tension caused by her encounter with Beth Samuelson. “Milo picked it for me.”
“I’m not surprised.” Nina placed the posters on her desk. “Where’s he been hidin’ himself? I haven’t seen him here in a few days.”
“He—he’s busy.” She felt Nina’s eyes on her and met them with what she hoped was a normal smile. “But everything is fine. He brought me breakfast this morning.”
A dreamy look passed across Nina’s face. “Most men would sleep until noon on their day off. But yours? He gets up early to bring you breakfast. He’s mighty special, that man.”
She couldn’t agree more. To Nina, though, she simply said, “Sounds like we both hit the jackpot, didn’t we?”
“We sure did.”
Rummaging in her tote bag for a list of items she needed to attend to out on the floor, her gaze stopped on the notebook. She pulled it out and set it on her desk. “Nina? Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Miss Sinclair.”
She cringed at the use of her surname but knew it was futile to correct her assistant. From day one it had been the way Nina addressed her—on the floor, in their office, and at social events. No amount of reminding, asking, or telling changed that.
“Do you know either Caroline Rowen or Samantha Smith?”
Nina repeated the names slowly. “I’m not sure. Should I?”
“I guess not. I just figured that most moms with little kids find their way into libraries from time to time. And other than Sally’s birthday party the other day, I’ve not really seen either of