Menzies.”
“Hm. No relation to your adorable little stalker, eh?”
“Just dig up the information for me. I will fill you in on the rest later.”
Graham must have heard the impatience in his tone, because the Lupine grew serious. “You got it. When does this rush job of yours need to be done?”
“Before seven tonight.”
Graham sighed. “Done. But you owe me, buddy.”
“You know I will come through. Call me when you know something worth sharing.”
He hung up just as the shower turned off. Standing, he tucked the cell phone back into Tess’s jacket pocket and added the garment to the neatly folded pile of clothes in his hands. Then he schooled his expression into blandly pleasant lines and headed toward the bedroom. Maybe if he were fast and lucky, he’d get one last look at Tess’s luscious little body before she left for work.
A man could dream.
Nine
Tess made it into the shop just after twelve thirty, partly because she didn’t have to bother stopping home to shower, and mostly because Rafe had called a car service to drive her back to the East Village so she wouldn’t have to take the subway. For that courtesy alone, Tess was prepared to forgive a multitude of sins, especially since the October weather had turned rainy and chilly sometime after dawn.
She thanked the driver of the town car, took him at his word that his tip was included in the service, and tried to ignore the way he stared very surreptitiously at her braless chest. She debated spending her day with her arms crossed over them, but wasn’t sure that wouldn’t defeat the purpose of circumspection. Instead she tugged her jacket more firmly shut and turned away.
Cheeks flaming, she headed down the five steps to her basement shop on West 9th Street. The sleigh bells over the door jingled as she entered, and the familiar, soothing smell of the shop greeted her as soon as she closed the door behind her. She inhaled the crisp, herbal fragrance and looked around for Bette.
“Well, well. Looks like I can call the National Guard and tell them it was a false alarm.”
Tess turned to the back of the shop at the sound of the familiar voice, and she smiled. Elbows-deep in a huge paper sack of loose peppermint stood a young woman in her early twenties. Bette Beedle (her real name, Tess had learned, somewhat to her shock) had more facial piercings than she had fingers and wore her hair in a short, blunt bob dyed a vibrant electric blue. She had a talent for herbalism, a mind for numbers, and didn’t mind working lousy hours. Plus, she possessed a warm heart and a great sense of humor, which was what qualified her to be Tess’s one and only employee. “Sorry I’m late. It was a long night.”
Bette grinned. “Ooh, that sounds promising. Was the cause of the long night long as well?”
Tess blushed. “What makes you think I’m late because of a man? Maybe I got caught up in a good mystery novel or something.”
Bette sniffed the air, raised an eyebrow, and shook her head. “Nice try, but unless you’ve decided to switch from your usual lemon balm soap to—” She paused and sniffed again. “—mint, sandalwood, and myrrh, no dice. That’s a hell of a nice masculine blend, though. Maybe we should try a new line of it.”
“I don’t think so.” Tess started to shrug off her jacket and hang it on the coatrack behind the door, but thought better of it the second she felt herself shimmy. “I think it would be a better idea if we just finished up those custom tea blends for the Sanderson wedding reception, don’t you?”
“No, but you’re the boss.” Bette finished emptying the last of the peppermint into a huge amber glass jar and screwed on the lid before replacing it on the shelf behind the counter. “So I guess that means you get to keep your naughty little secrets. Want me to go get the Sanderson trays now so we can get started?”
Tess appreciated that Bette took her refusal to talk gracefully, as she took most
“Hm. No relation to your adorable little stalker, eh?”
“Just dig up the information for me. I will fill you in on the rest later.”
Graham must have heard the impatience in his tone, because the Lupine grew serious. “You got it. When does this rush job of yours need to be done?”
“Before seven tonight.”
Graham sighed. “Done. But you owe me, buddy.”
“You know I will come through. Call me when you know something worth sharing.”
He hung up just as the shower turned off. Standing, he tucked the cell phone back into Tess’s jacket pocket and added the garment to the neatly folded pile of clothes in his hands. Then he schooled his expression into blandly pleasant lines and headed toward the bedroom. Maybe if he were fast and lucky, he’d get one last look at Tess’s luscious little body before she left for work.
A man could dream.
Nine
Tess made it into the shop just after twelve thirty, partly because she didn’t have to bother stopping home to shower, and mostly because Rafe had called a car service to drive her back to the East Village so she wouldn’t have to take the subway. For that courtesy alone, Tess was prepared to forgive a multitude of sins, especially since the October weather had turned rainy and chilly sometime after dawn.
She thanked the driver of the town car, took him at his word that his tip was included in the service, and tried to ignore the way he stared very surreptitiously at her braless chest. She debated spending her day with her arms crossed over them, but wasn’t sure that wouldn’t defeat the purpose of circumspection. Instead she tugged her jacket more firmly shut and turned away.
Cheeks flaming, she headed down the five steps to her basement shop on West 9th Street. The sleigh bells over the door jingled as she entered, and the familiar, soothing smell of the shop greeted her as soon as she closed the door behind her. She inhaled the crisp, herbal fragrance and looked around for Bette.
“Well, well. Looks like I can call the National Guard and tell them it was a false alarm.”
Tess turned to the back of the shop at the sound of the familiar voice, and she smiled. Elbows-deep in a huge paper sack of loose peppermint stood a young woman in her early twenties. Bette Beedle (her real name, Tess had learned, somewhat to her shock) had more facial piercings than she had fingers and wore her hair in a short, blunt bob dyed a vibrant electric blue. She had a talent for herbalism, a mind for numbers, and didn’t mind working lousy hours. Plus, she possessed a warm heart and a great sense of humor, which was what qualified her to be Tess’s one and only employee. “Sorry I’m late. It was a long night.”
Bette grinned. “Ooh, that sounds promising. Was the cause of the long night long as well?”
Tess blushed. “What makes you think I’m late because of a man? Maybe I got caught up in a good mystery novel or something.”
Bette sniffed the air, raised an eyebrow, and shook her head. “Nice try, but unless you’ve decided to switch from your usual lemon balm soap to—” She paused and sniffed again. “—mint, sandalwood, and myrrh, no dice. That’s a hell of a nice masculine blend, though. Maybe we should try a new line of it.”
“I don’t think so.” Tess started to shrug off her jacket and hang it on the coatrack behind the door, but thought better of it the second she felt herself shimmy. “I think it would be a better idea if we just finished up those custom tea blends for the Sanderson wedding reception, don’t you?”
“No, but you’re the boss.” Bette finished emptying the last of the peppermint into a huge amber glass jar and screwed on the lid before replacing it on the shelf behind the counter. “So I guess that means you get to keep your naughty little secrets. Want me to go get the Sanderson trays now so we can get started?”
Tess appreciated that Bette took her refusal to talk gracefully, as she took most
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