Stealing Taffy (Bigler, North Carolina #3) - Susan Donovan Page 0,21
Pink Taffy.
“You got feelings for this woman or something?”
“Hell, no.”
“That is some bullshit.” Before Dante could say anything else to him, Hinman held up his hand. “I’ll stop. But if you can’t be honest with yourself, at least tell your sponsor how you really feel. Promise me you’ll do that, okay?”
Dante changed the subject. “I’m thinking surf-and-turf tonight. How about you?”
A few hours later, Dante was back at his laptop, fingers poised over the keys. All it would take would be a few taps of his fingertips and he’d be able to locate his flight number and seat assignment from O’Hare to D.C., then enter the secured Justice Department site. From there, he’d be only a few clicks away from the passenger manifest that would take him directly to everything he’d ever wanted to know about Taffy—or whoever the hell she was.
Dante held his breath for a moment. Why in the world would he even bother? He didn’t want or need to know anything about that woman. Taffy had been a one-night stand of epic proportions—all sweet Southern gentility until he nailed her up against the hotel room wall—but that’s all she’d been.
One.
Hot.
Night.
Dante logged out and closed his laptop. Not much later, as he lay in bed in the dark, he was sure he’d made the right decision. He’d never, ever gone chasing after an anonymous hookup before, so why start now?
He rolled over, punched the pillow, and willed himself to go to sleep.
Chapter 5
Tanyalee sniffed into her monogrammed linen hankie, then pushed away her sunglasses so she could dab her eyes. This last denial had just made it official—she was now completely and utterly humiliated! First, she’d been turned away at the animal shelter, a high school acquaintance telling her, “this kind of work would be too unpleasant for someone like you.” Then she’d been denied at the community recreation center, a former boyfriend saying, “you need experience in team sports, and the last time I checked, shoplifting wasn’t considered a team sport.” But with this last one, the degradation was complete! Because, really—what type of soup kitchen turns away volunteers?
The one run by Maryvelle Spickler Wilcox, apparently.
Tanyalee flung open the squeaky door of Viv’s pink Cadillac. She plopped down behind the white leather steering wheel, slammed the door shut, and peeled out of the parking lot of the Bread of Kindness Center. Bread of Kindness? How about Bitch of Kindergarten? That would be more accurate!
As Tanyalee turned onto East Road, she reviewed the horrible, terrible exchange she’d just had. Surely she didn’t deserve the treatment Maryvelle had given her. All Tanyalee had done was tell the sweet young woman at the front window that she’d like to volunteer, but the girl said Tanyalee would have to speak with the director. And out walked Maryvelle, who had not aged gracefully, truth be told. It seemed all the nibbles of bread she’d been sneaking hadn’t been kind to her backside.
“Tanyalee Newberry,” Maryvelle had said with a little laugh. “I didn’t know they’d let you out.”
Tanyalee’s spine stiffened. “Whatever do you mean?”
Maryvelle looked her up and down and shook her head. “Really, Tanyalee? You came in here dressed like that?”
Tanyalee examined herself, shocked at her old classmate’s harsh appraisal of her outfit. She was wearing a simple khaki pencil skirt, a carnation-pink twinset, and her customary single strand of pearls. What could possibly be wrong with that?
“You’re aware this is a soup kitchen, right?”
“Of course I know it’s a soup kitchen, Maryvelle. That’s why I’m here. I’d like to help ya’ll out.”
“Community service hours?”
Tanyalee sniffed. Maryvelle was certainly enjoying herself, wasn’t she? “If you must know—yes.”
She laughed at Tanyalee, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yes, I must know, since I would be the one who’d have to verify to the Cataloochee County Circuit Court how many hours you’ve worked. Isn’t that great?”
Tanyalee pursed her lips and refused to dignify that with a response.
“How many hours do you need?”
“Two hundred.”
Maryvelle whistled. “Well, now, that’s an awful lot. And we already have dozens of volunteers helping us do the Lord’s work, and most of them are fulfilling community service hours, I might add. Seems half the town’s on probation.”
“That’s real cute, Maryvelle, but I’m sure you could always use more help.”
Maryvelle smiled at her. It wasn’t a particularly Christian smile. “Do you remember kindergarten, Tanyalee? Mrs. Cline’s class?”
“Of course.” She answered pleasantly, though she doubted the overall pleasant direction this exchange was about to take. “I loved how she hung our finger