Whiskey and Gumdrops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance by Jean Oram Page A

polyester.
    Frankie fell into step beside her, walking close, his legs wide, like he was an armed bodyguard with too many muscles to be able to walk properly. Mandy nudged him, trying to knock him out of his tense, protective mode. When he strutted like this, she always feared he was going to go all Mark Wahlberg and lash out at someone as if he was in an action flick.
    She turned to face him, jaw set. "What are you doing?"
    "Walking with you."
    "Why?"
    "I can't walk with a friend?" he asked, eyeing other pedestrians through slitted lids as they passed.
    Mandy jutted out a hip, arms crossed. "Frankie, you're eyeing everyone like you're angling for a fight. What's up?"
    "Nothing." His dark eyes were cloudy.
    "Nothing?" She watched him. Then, sighing, she opened her bag and passed him the keys. "Thanks."
    "Keep them," he said, pushing the keys back to her, his eyes still on the street.
    "Your house keys are on here."
    Jaw working, Frankie tugged the building key off the chain and handed it to her. "Who else are you going to interview?"
    "That was it. And they interview me, not the other way around."
    He pulled the beginning of a fuzzy new soul patch growing below his lip that she hadn't noticed earlier into his mouth and watched her. "Bullshit," he said gently. "You have every right to interview them as well."
    "What's this?" she asked and leaned forward to pet the damp bit of hair. Holy hell, that was a sexy look on him. How on earth had she missed noticing it?
    Frankie tipped his face out of reach and asked, "What do you mean, 'That was it?' "
    "That's the only one I qualify for." She turned on her high heels and began clacking her way down the sidewalk.
    "What do you mean the only one?" he asked, his steps timed perfectly with hers.
    "Frankie, franchises are incredibly expensive."
    "So? Borrow money."
    "It's more than you think. Besides, if it isn't that, it's qualifications. And there's no way I could go independent." Her cheeks burned with the humiliation of not being able to qualify for the one thing she'd finally decided she wanted. Didn't life just love kicking her in the shins? If it wasn't men, it was business—run by men.
    She gave Frankie's chest a poke, his leather jacket firm under her finger. "And what about you? I'm pursuing my big adventure." She stepped closer, wanting to take a pound of flesh out of him for knowing how close she was to losing what she wanted.
    "And?" he asked, his brows twisted in confusion.
    "The TV show?"
    His dark eyes narrowed. "What about it?"
    She quirked her head. "Are you going to man up and go for it? Or what?"
    Frankie pulled the soul patch into his mouth again and she couldn't decide if the action was seductively sexy or simply annoying. Either way, it made her want to move closer and put her fingers over his bottom lip to release the soul patch—whatever that happened to imply.
    "I'd have to leave."
    "It wouldn't be forever."
    "As your business partner, I think I should be around while you set up shop."
    "Excuse me? My what? You're my landlord! Should this guy even decide I'm worthy, it could be months before anything actually happens with the building."
    "Well, I..." Frankie seemed at a loss.
    "There's no reason you shouldn't do this."
    Liz, Mary Alice's sister, and second-in-command on the town's gossip circuit, sidled up to them, taking in Mandy's outfit with one sweep and the tension between her and Frankie with another.
    "Not now, Liz," Mandy said. "I'm late for work."
    "Didn't think you had a shift today," Liz replied. "Who was the man you were meeting with? He had city written all over him."
    "A slick piece of work, for sure," Frankie added.
    Mandy ignored Liz and focused on Frankie. "Just because he wears a suit doesn't mean he's evil. Some people wear suits and do good, you know." She gave his leather jacketed shoulder a light shove, hating the way his peppermint smell made her want to nuzzle her face against his shoulder.
    "He can't be trusted," Frankie said.
    "Why? Why