Bewitched by Lori Foster Page B

you, Jillian.”
    Jillian licked her lips, glanced sideways at Charlie, and whispered, “What did he say?”
    Charlie laughed. “Who knows? He always talks funny, but it seems to be getting worse as the night goes on. I think he needs to get some sleep and recharge his wits.”
    Jillian nodded, then turned back to Harry. She clasped his hand with both of hers. “Thank you so much for bringing my sister home safe and sound. She tends to get herself into trouble awfully easy, but from what she told me, she topped herself tonight.”
    Harry nodded. “Hmm. Her intentions are good, but she appears to be misguided by too much pride and bravado.”
    â€œYep, that’s Charlie. I tried to talk her out of doing something so stupid, but—”
    â€œJill.”
    Jill smiled. “Would you like to come up for a drink? I was just making some hot chocolate.”
    â€œJillian…”
    â€œThank you, I’d love to,” Harry said, cutting off Charlie’s protest. “Hot chocolate sounds like perfection.”
    Charlie rubbed her head. “Harry, don’t you think it’s getting kind of late?”
    He glanced at his wristwatch. “Very. What time do you close the bar?”
    â€œAt two. And as soon as I change, I have to check on things. So really, it’d be better—”
    He gave her his back. “Jillian, if you’d like to lead the way, I’ll drink my hot chocolate and then head home. Charlie’s absolutely correct that it’s been a rather full day.”
    Jill smiled. “Follow me.”
    Eyes narrowed, Charlie stomped along behind them up the silent stairwell. When they reached the top, Jill used the key hanging from her wrist to unlock the door. She said over her shoulder to Harry, “The doors automatically lock when they shut.”
    â€œGood idea. Are you ever bothered by the noise downstairs?”
    â€œNot at all. I’m used to it.”
    â€œAnd the patrons respect your privacy?”
    â€œPatrons?” Jill giggled as she headed down another hall and into the kitchen, the first room on the left at the top of the landing. Water already boiled in a softly whistling teapot, so Charlie got down three mugs and the tin of chocolate powder. Jillian dug three spoons from the drawer. “I’d hardly call the guys who hang out here ‘patrons.’”
    â€œNo? Then what would you call them?” Harry seated himself at the Formica table and crossed his long legs. He looked entirely too much at his leisure to suit Charlie, especially when she noted him looking around, surveying their small but tidy kitchen.
    Jill shrugged. “I don’t know. Regulars? I suppose that’s the nicest thing I can come up with. Oh, really, they’re not all bad. But as Charlie has always told me, we attract a certain clientele here at the Lucky Goose, and it doesn’t include anyone who’s too discriminating.”
    Charlie finished stirring in the chocolate and handed Harry his cup. He sipped, made appropriate sounds of approval, then leaned back in his chair. “Do you ever go into the bar?”
    â€œAre you kidding? Charlie has fits if I even peek in thereafter four o’clock. Before that, it’s pretty tame, just a few guys hanging around, usually getting a sandwich and a beer. She doesn’t mind if I’m in there then. But the rowdiest crowds don’t start until after seven.”
    â€œWhat time do you open?”
    â€œCharlie opens it up from two in the afternoon to two in the morning. She’s got things pretty organized and we get a pretty steady crowd.”
    Harry made a pretense of drinking his chocolate, but Charlie could easily see the crafty interest in his gaze. “Those are long hours to work. What other employees do you have?”
    Waving a hand, Jill commented, “Charlie likes to keep things simple, so she doesn’t hire in much help. She does almost