silent prayer of thanks for the urge that had made her dress with such care.
While Micki had been studying the woman, the redhead had been making her own evaluation and they seemed to reach the same conclusions at exactly the same time. For just as Micki was giving thanks, the redhead smiled and extended a slim, long-nailed hand.
‘Jennell Clark,” she offered in a soft drawl. “And you must be Micki Durrant.”
“I am.” The hand Micki stretched out was just as slim, the rounded nails every bit as long. “How do you do?”
“Very well, actually.”Jennell’s soft laugh was a delight to the ears. “Glad to have you with us.” Her eyes ran over Micki again. “If you buy for the shop as well as you buy for yourself I have a feeling I’ll be doing even better.”
“Thank you,” Micki laughed with her. “I’ll do my best.” Then unable to exactly place the soft drawl in Jennell’s tone, she asked, “Are you from the South?”
“Yes,” Jennell again favored her with a laugh. “But not too far south, Richmond, Virginia. Where are you from?”
“Only a little south of here,” Micki grinned. “Ocean City, New Jersey.”
Jennell introduced her to the shop’s other two employees, a petite, pretty young woman named Lucy and a strikingly beautiful black woman named Georgine. The three of them filled Micki in on the running of the store in no time.
The rest of the afternoon flew by so quickly, Micki was surprised when Jennell said it was time to close the shop. She was on the point of saying good-bye when Jennell asked, “Do you have plans for dinner? I mean do you have a date or are you expected home or anything?”
Micki thought fleetingly of Wolf, then shook her head. “No, no date or plans or anyone expecting me.”
‘Then come have dinner with us,” Jennell coaxed. “Lucy’s guy is out of town. Georgine’s between guys and I”—an impish smile curved her red lips—”I’m punishing my man at the moment.”
“Punishing?” Micki laughed.
“Well, just a little,” the redhead drawled. “He was getting much too possessive and I’m letting him know I won’t be owned. Will you come?”
As both Lucy and Georgine added their pleas to Jennell’s, Micki agreed and the four of them left the shop, all talking at the same time.
They had dinner in a small restaurant where the decor was unexceptional and the food out of this world. While they ate, Micki learned that all three women came from other shops in the chain. Jennell from one in Washington, D.C., Lucy from one in Baltimore, and Georgine from one in New York City.
“I’ve been here for over a year,” Jennell volunteered. “Georgine came a few months after I did and Lucy joined us three months ago. Your predecessor came from Philadelphia at the same time as I did.” She fluttered her lashes dramatically, drawled over-sweetly. “She’s been transferred to Miami.” Jennell smiled derisively. “She went too far with the boss.”
“You didn’t like her?” Micki’s question was greeted by rolled eyes and snorts of laughter.
“Honey,” Jennell drawled softly, “I could sooner like a rattlesnake.”
“She really wasn’t very pleasant to work with.” This from the small, somewhat shy, Lucy.
“She was a first-rate bitch,” Georgine, every inch as worldly as she was beautiful, stated flatly.
“Yes,” Jennell concurred. “Our buyer decided to play footsie with the owner. He shipped her out when she became demanding. I mean”—the drawl was laid on thick—”one just does not fool around with that man. Let alone demand marriage.”
Micki frowned. When Jennell had said the boss, Micki assumed she’d been referring to their regional manager, Hank Carlton. But she’d just now said the owner and Micki had never met the owner, had not, in fact, ever heard his name mentioned. She was about to ask Jennell who the owner was when Lucy said something about finding a new man for Georgine and the thought went out of her
While Micki had been studying the woman, the redhead had been making her own evaluation and they seemed to reach the same conclusions at exactly the same time. For just as Micki was giving thanks, the redhead smiled and extended a slim, long-nailed hand.
‘Jennell Clark,” she offered in a soft drawl. “And you must be Micki Durrant.”
“I am.” The hand Micki stretched out was just as slim, the rounded nails every bit as long. “How do you do?”
“Very well, actually.”Jennell’s soft laugh was a delight to the ears. “Glad to have you with us.” Her eyes ran over Micki again. “If you buy for the shop as well as you buy for yourself I have a feeling I’ll be doing even better.”
“Thank you,” Micki laughed with her. “I’ll do my best.” Then unable to exactly place the soft drawl in Jennell’s tone, she asked, “Are you from the South?”
“Yes,” Jennell again favored her with a laugh. “But not too far south, Richmond, Virginia. Where are you from?”
“Only a little south of here,” Micki grinned. “Ocean City, New Jersey.”
Jennell introduced her to the shop’s other two employees, a petite, pretty young woman named Lucy and a strikingly beautiful black woman named Georgine. The three of them filled Micki in on the running of the store in no time.
The rest of the afternoon flew by so quickly, Micki was surprised when Jennell said it was time to close the shop. She was on the point of saying good-bye when Jennell asked, “Do you have plans for dinner? I mean do you have a date or are you expected home or anything?”
Micki thought fleetingly of Wolf, then shook her head. “No, no date or plans or anyone expecting me.”
‘Then come have dinner with us,” Jennell coaxed. “Lucy’s guy is out of town. Georgine’s between guys and I”—an impish smile curved her red lips—”I’m punishing my man at the moment.”
“Punishing?” Micki laughed.
“Well, just a little,” the redhead drawled. “He was getting much too possessive and I’m letting him know I won’t be owned. Will you come?”
As both Lucy and Georgine added their pleas to Jennell’s, Micki agreed and the four of them left the shop, all talking at the same time.
They had dinner in a small restaurant where the decor was unexceptional and the food out of this world. While they ate, Micki learned that all three women came from other shops in the chain. Jennell from one in Washington, D.C., Lucy from one in Baltimore, and Georgine from one in New York City.
“I’ve been here for over a year,” Jennell volunteered. “Georgine came a few months after I did and Lucy joined us three months ago. Your predecessor came from Philadelphia at the same time as I did.” She fluttered her lashes dramatically, drawled over-sweetly. “She’s been transferred to Miami.” Jennell smiled derisively. “She went too far with the boss.”
“You didn’t like her?” Micki’s question was greeted by rolled eyes and snorts of laughter.
“Honey,” Jennell drawled softly, “I could sooner like a rattlesnake.”
“She really wasn’t very pleasant to work with.” This from the small, somewhat shy, Lucy.
“She was a first-rate bitch,” Georgine, every inch as worldly as she was beautiful, stated flatly.
“Yes,” Jennell concurred. “Our buyer decided to play footsie with the owner. He shipped her out when she became demanding. I mean”—the drawl was laid on thick—”one just does not fool around with that man. Let alone demand marriage.”
Micki frowned. When Jennell had said the boss, Micki assumed she’d been referring to their regional manager, Hank Carlton. But she’d just now said the owner and Micki had never met the owner, had not, in fact, ever heard his name mentioned. She was about to ask Jennell who the owner was when Lucy said something about finding a new man for Georgine and the thought went out of her
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