from... anything."
"You'll learn."
It was self-indulgent, but she pouted anyway. "I don't even like jewelry."
"The customers do."
"I don't understand why people need to clutter up their house with dust catchers."
Laura smiled. If Kate was arguing, she thought, she was coming around. "That's easy. To keep us in business."
"Good point," Kate conceded. "I haven't done too badly the few Saturdays I've been able to help out. It's just dealing with people, day after day."
"You'll learn to live with it. We really need you on the books. We didn't push it before because we didn't want to pressure you. Actually Margo did, but I talked her out of it."
One of the many wounds she'd been planning to lick healed over. "Really?"
"No offense, Kate, but we've been open about ten months. Margo and I decided after about ten days that we really hate accounting. We hate spreadsheets. We hate percentages. We hate figuring the sales tax we have to send off every month."
Laura let out a sigh, lowered her voice. "I shouldn't tell you, she asked me not to, but..."
"What?"
"Well, Margo... We didn't think we could add to our overhead with a full-time bookkeeper, not yet anyway. So Margo's been looking into taking classes."
"Classes." Kate blinked. "Accounting classes? Margo? Jesus Christ."
"And business management, and computers." Laura winced. "Now, with the baby coming along, it seems like a lot to handle. I'm fairly computer-literate," she added, hoping to press her point. "I have to be, working conventions and special events at the hotel. But retail's a different matter entirely." Knowing the value of timing, she waited a beat, let it sink in. "I just don't see how I could squeeze any classes in myself, between working at Templeton, the shop, the girls."
"Of course not. You should have told me you were having that rough a time. I'd have picked up the ball."
"You've been cross-eyed with work for six months. It didn't seem fair."
"Fair? Hell, it's business. I'll come in first thing in the morning and take a good look at the books."
Laura managed to keep her smile pleasant rather than smug as Ann Sullivan wheeled in a tea cart. "The girls have finished their homework," Ann began. "I brought extra cups and plates so they could join you. I thought you might enjoy a little tea party."
"Thank you, Annie."
"Miss Kate, it's good to see - " Her smile of greeting faded the minute she looked into Kate's swollen, red-rimmed eyes. "What's the matter, darling?"
"Oh, Annie." Kate caught the hand Ann had lifted to her cheek, soothed herself with it. "My life's a mess."
"I'll get the girls," Laura said, rising. "And another cup," she added, nodding at Ann. "We'll have our tea party, and work on straightening it out."
Because Kate had always been the awkward one, and the feisty one, she held a special place in Ann's heart. After pouring two cups, selecting two chocolate-frosted cakes, Ann sat down and draped an arm around Kate's shoulder.
"Now, you drink your tea and eat some sweets and tell Annie all about it."
Sighing, Kate burrowed. Dorothy from Kansas was right, she decided. There really was no place like home.
* * * * *
"I don't like the way she keeps talking about software." Behind the counter of Pretenses, Margo muttered into Laura's ear. "The only software I want to know about is cashmere."
"We don't have to know," Laura muttered right back. "Because she knows. Think about all the Sunday evenings we sweated over the books."
"Right." But Margo pouted. "Actually, I thought I was getting pretty good at it. The way she talks, it's like I was brain-dead."
"Want to go into the back room and help her out?"
"No." That was definite. Margo scanned a browsing customer, calculated nine more seconds before the next subtle sales pitch. "But I don't like the way she's taking this whole mess. No way our Kate walks away from a fight."
"She's hurt, shaken." Though Laura was worried over it herself. "This is just recovery time."
"It better be. I'm not going to be able to hold Josh back from storming into Bittle much longer." A martial light glowed in her Mediterranean blue eyes. "I'm not going to be able to hold myself back, for that matter. Creeps, jerks."
She continued to mutter as she approached the customer, but her face underwent a metamorphosis. Easy, sophisticated beauty. "That's a gorgeous lamp, isn't it? It belonged to Christie Brinkley." Margo trailed a finger down the mother-of-pearl shade. "Confidentially, it was a gift from Billy, and she didn't want to keep