Hotter than Texas (Pecan Creek) - By Tina Leonard Page 0,17
wonder if you’d be interested in a job.”
“What kind of job?”
“A job helping me.”
Lucy began to edge the door shut. “I’m not up for being a companion or sitter. Thanks. And, not to be entirely rude, but I don’t think I’d be your type, if you’re looking for anything else.”
“I need help with my business,” Charlotte said, and Lucy looked into Charlotte’s bright eyes.
“What kind of business?”
“Come over to my house on Azalea Avenue sometime. You can see if you’d like to help me out. And if you don’t mind, please keep our discussion private,” Charlotte said. “My business is top secret.”
Great. The old woman probably had dead people in her basement like the dingbats in Arsenic and Old Lace, and wanted Lucy to have tea with them or something. Or help her make arsenic-laced wine. Lucy shuddered. “Sure. I’ll do that.” She grabbed the pie so Charlotte would go. “Mm. Smells good,” she said, surprised, and Charlotte beamed.
“Nobody’s apple pie beats mine, not even Vivian’s. I’m real proud of that. Come on by when you can. And remember, I’d appreciate your discretion. I’ll deny it if anyone asks me if I offered you a job. And no one would believe you.” She waved a hand at Lucy and strode off in her walking shoes, heading purposefully toward town.
“Well, la-di-dah, you rigid old bitch.” Lucy closed the door and peeled off a piece of flaky crust. “My God, that’s good.” The crust melted like butter in her mouth. She took the pie outside with paper plates and plastic forks. “Look what the wicked witch of the southwest brought us.”
Sugar sat up. “A pie? Is it poisoned?”
Maggie looked over. “Was it one of the women I met last night? I told you those were nice ladies!”
Sure, Lucy thought. And I’m going to start believing in unicorns. Like people wouldn’t kill you with kindness, if it suited them.
“This is delish,” Sugar said, and Maggie moaned with happiness as she snacked on the pie. Lucy pulled her top back off and stared at the white puffy clouds floating across a cerulean sky, not caring at all.
Thirty minutes later, Sugar had broken out a chardonnay, refreshed Paris’s water bowl and turned the sprinkler on nearby so they could get some cooler air when the breeze blew, which wasn’t often. Occasionally, water droplets landed on them, and Sugar thought this was about the most relaxed any of them had been since coming to Pecan Creek.
The doorbell chimed again, echoing through the open doors to the garden. Sugar put on her green bikini top. “I’ll get it this time,” she said, and Maggie said, “Hope they brought cheese straws this time. I’m in the mood.”
Lucy didn’t say anything, because she was sound asleep. Sugar went to the door, arranging a smile on her face, which slipped off the moment she saw J.T. Bentley hulking on her porch.
The rat. She tugged her top, making certain it covered everything she didn’t want his dark eyes viewing. “Yes?”
“Hi, Sugar.”
She raised a brow. He looked at the hat in his hands for just a moment, divining inspiration, then turned his chocolate eyes back on her. To his credit, he never glanced at her bikini top nor her bared belly, nor the towel she’d wrapped around her waist like a sarong.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he said, and Sugar thought, Well, at least he’s the type to know when he’s been an ass. That’s a good start.
“I don’t understand what you were trying to do.”
He gestured with his hat. “Like I said last night, it was a mistake.”
“You’re right it was a mistake.” Sugar couldn’t help feeling bitter about the whole incident. “Maggie was hurt, Jake, deeply hurt.”
His whole demeanor was crestfallen. “Can I apologize to Maggie?”
“She’s asleep.”
A whoop and a squeal from the backyard as Maggie scored a direct hit with the hose on her sleeping daughter belied Sugar’s words. Jake looked at her, and Sugar shrugged.
“Another time, maybe.”
“Maybe,” she said, putting lots of when hell freezes over into her tone.
“Will you ask Maggie if she’d still consider being our mayor?”
Sugar blinked. “I believe your mother, and that coven of witches she rules, wasn’t in favor of Maggie being anything but thrown out with the town trash.”
He shook his head. “I have the last word on this one. And I want Maggie to be the mayor. She’s just what we’re looking for. Trust me on this.”
Sugar wanted to trust him. Past experience had taught her that trusting dark-haired, bedroom-eyed, god-bodied