A Bride For The Boss

When Amanda finally came back, Andi mused, “Where did Laura come up with Jamaica, I wonder?”

“Nothing on the secret lover then?” Amanda asked.

Andi snorted. “Who has time for a lover?”

Amanda gave her a sympathetic look, reached out and patted her hand. “Honey, that’s so sad. You’ve got to make time.”

She would if she had the option of the lover she wanted. But since she didn’t, why bother with anyone else? “How can I when I’m going to Jamaica? But again, why Jamaica?”

“Maybe wishful thinking,” Amanda said with a shrug, leaning down to brace folded arms on the counter. “Heaven knows, lying on a beach having somebody bring me lovely alcoholic drinks while I cuddle with my honey sounds pretty good to me most days.”

“Okay, sounds pretty good to me, too,” Andi said. If she had a honey. “Instead, I’m headed home to start painting.”

Amanda straightened up. “You’re planning on painting your place on your own? It’ll take you weeks.”

“As the gossip chain informed you already,” she said wryly, “I’m unemployed, so I’ve got some time.”

“Well,” Amanda said, walking to the register to ring up Andi’s bill, “using that time to paint rather than find yourself that secret lover seems a waste to me. And, if you change your mind, there’s any number of kids around town who would paint for you. Summer jobs are hard to come by in a small town.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks.” Andi paid, slung her purse over her shoulder and said, “Say hi to Nathan for me.”

“I’ll do that. And say hi to Jamaica for me.” Amanda gave her a wink, then went off to check on her customers again.

* * *

Several hours later, Andi knew she should have been tired. Instead, she was energized, and by the end of her first day as a free woman, the living room was painted a cool, rich green the color of the Texas hills in springtime. It would need another coat, but even now she saw the potential and loved it. She had a sense of accomplishment, of simple satisfaction, which she hadn’t felt in far too long. Yes, she’d been successful in her career, but that was Mac’s business. His empire. This little farmhouse, abandoned for years, was all hers. And she was going to bring it back to life. Make it shine as it had to some long-gone family.

“And maybe by the time it’s whole and happy again, I will be, too,” she said.

“Talking to yourself?” a female voice said from the front porch. “Not a good sign.”

Andi spun around and grinned. “Violet! Come on in.”

Mac’s sister opened the screen door and let it slap closed behind her. Being nearly seven months pregnant hadn’t stopped Vi from dressing like the rancher she was. She wore a pale yellow T-shirt that clung to her rounded belly, a pair of faded blue jeans and the dusty brown boots she preferred to anything else.

Her auburn hair was pulled into a high ponytail at the back of her head and her clear green eyes swept the freshly painted walls in approval. When she looked back at Andi, she nodded. “Nice job. Really. Love the darker green as trim, too. Makes the whole thing pop.”

“Thanks.” Andi took another long look and sighed. “I’ll go over it again tomorrow. But I love it. This color makes the room feel cool, you know? And with summer coming...”

“It’s already hot,” Vi said. “You are getting air conditioning put in, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Called them at about eight this morning, as soon as the sun came up and started sizzling. They’re backed up, though, so it’ll be a week or two before they can come out here.”

“Well,” Vi said, walking into the kitchen as comfortably as she would at her own house. “If you start melting before then, you can come and stay with Rafe and me at the ranch.”

“Ah, yes,” Andi said, following her friend into her kitchen—which was comfortably stuck in the 1950s. “What a good time. I can be the third wheel with the newlyweds.”

“We don’t have sex in front of people, you know,” Vi told her with a laugh. “We tried, but the housekeeper Rafe hired disapproved.”

She stuck her head in the refrigerator, pulled out a pitcher of tea and sighed with pleasure. “Knew I could count on you to have tea all ready to go. You get glasses. Do you have any cookies?”

“Some Oreos.” They’d been friends for so long, they worked in tandem. “In the pantry.”

“Thank God.”

Laughing, Andi filled two glasses with ice, then poured each of them some tea as Vi hurried into the walk-in pantry and came back out already eating a cookie. She sighed, rolled her eyes and moaned, “God, these are so good.”

Still chuckling, Andi took a seat at the tiny table and watched her friend dig into the cookie bag for another. “Rafe still watching what you eat?”

Vi dropped into the chair opposite her, picked up her tea and took a long drink. “Like a hawk. He found my stash of Hershey’s bars, so they’re gone.” She ate the next cookie with as much relish as she had the first. “I love the man like crazy but he’s making me a little nuts. Although, one thing I’ll say for him, he does keep ice cream stocked for me.”

“Well, that’s something,” Andi agreed, taking a seat opposite her.

“But, wow, I miss cookies. And cake. And brownies. The only bad part about moving to the Wild Aces when I married Rafe? Leaving the Double M and our housekeeper Teresa’s brownies. I swear they’re magic.” Vi sighed and reached for another cookie. “You want to make a batch of brownies?”

Andi really hated to quash the hopeful look on her friend’s face, but said, “Oven doesn’t work.” Andi turned to look at the pastel pink gas stove. The burners worked fine, but the oven had been dead for years, she was willing to bet. “And it’s too hot in here to bake anything.”

“True.” Vi turned her tea glass on the narrow kitchen table, studying the water ring it left behind. “And I didn’t really come here to raid your pantry, either, in spite of the fact that I’m eating all of your Oreos.”

“Okay, then why are you here?”

“I’m a spy,” Violet said, laughing. “And I’m here to report that Mac is really twisted up about you quitting.”

“Is he?” Well, that felt good, didn’t it? She had long known that she was indispensable in the office. Now he knew it, too, and that thought brought her an immense wave of satisfaction. Instantly, a ping of guilt began to echo inside her, but Andi shut it down quickly. After all, it wasn’t as if she wanted Mac to have a hard time. She was only taking the opportunity to enjoy the fact that he was. “How do you know?”

“Well, spy work isn’t easy,” Violet admitted. “We pregnant operatives must rely on information from reliable sources.”

Andi laughed shortly. “You mean gossip.”

“I resent that term,” Violet said with an indignant sniff. Then she shrugged and took another cookie. “Although, it’s accurate. Mac hasn’t actually said anything to me directly. Yet. But Laura called a couple hours ago practically in tears.”

“What happened?” Andi asked. “Mac’s not the kind of man to bring a woman to tears.”

“I don’t know,” Violet said, smiling. “He’s made me cry a few times.”

“Angry tears don’t count.”

“Then Laura’s tears don’t count, either,” Vi told her. “She was really mad—at you for leaving her alone in the office.”

“Probably why she made up the Jamaica story,” Andi muttered.

“Jamaica?”

“Never mind.” She waved one hand to brush that away. “What did Mac do?”

“Nothing new. Just the same old crabby attitude you’ve been dealing with for years. Laura just doesn’t know how to deal with it yet.”

Okay, now she felt a little guilty. Mac could be...difficult. And maybe she should have used her two weeks’ notice to prepare Laura for handling him. But damn it, she’d learned on her own, hadn’t she? Laura was just going to have to suck it up and deal.