off the digits.
A harried knock echoed inside the room, and they jolted in unison. The door swung open, an irritated-looking woman stalking into the classroom. She tapped on the screen of her phone. “My meeting was scheduled to begin six minutes ago. I’ve been pacing the hall, waving at you through the glass partition, doing my best to be patient, but I have a job, too, and I can’t be late.”
“I’m so sorry.” Dorothea jumped to her feet. “I lost track of time. I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’m leaving.” She extended her hand to Mr. Hillcrest. “Thank you again, Mr. Hillcrest. I—”
“Call me Jonathan. Please.”
She inclined her head before darting into the hall. As she left the building and made her way across the parking lot, her gaze lifted to the sky out of habit. Over the past few years, Oklahoma had been dubbed the home of the quakenado. Storms, tornadoes and earthquakes, oh my! She loved to predict what would come next.
The thunderstorm she’d predicted now brewed, a thick wall of cloud stretching as far as the eye could see; the heavy veil of humidity suggested there would, in fact, be tornadic activity, too.
A horn blasted.
She yelped and skidded to a stop. A minivan sped past her. Yikes! She’d been so wrapped up in weather-watching she’d lost track of her surroundings.
“Sorry,” she called.
Heart thudding, she settled behind the wheel of her car. The same car she’d had since she was sixteen years old. A granny mobile, kids had called it. Once, those same kids had used shoe polish to write the words oink oink on her windshield.
Ugh. No more thinking about the past.
Since she planned to fire Holly later today, she needed to stop at Copy Copy to create the perfect flyer for a new hire...
Wanted: Receptionist for the Strawberry Inn.
If you can:
* Speak to strangers
* Answer a phone
* Show up on time
* Type complete sentences
You have the skills we need.
Contact Dorothea Mathis to schedule an interview.
Excellent! Up next, posting the flyers and setting Holly free.
Would Dorothea be met with hugs or insults?
She heaved a sigh. Like she really had to wonder.
* * *
DOROTHEA RETURNED TO the inn and stopped short in the lobby. Her little sis had actually listened to her! Holly rather than Mrs. Hathaway manned the desk. If “manned” was defined as staring at a cell phone and chewing gum. Still, it was progress.
“Good afternoon.” Dorothea approached her sister the way she would approach a wounded animal.
Holly popped a bubble. “Daniel Porter came by to see you.”
The air gushed from her lungs. “What’d he want?”
“He looked tee-icked, but he wouldn’t tell me what the problem was. I bet he’s going to complain about his last stay.”
Or discuss his offer.
Head fogging, she said, “Enough about Daniel. Let’s talk about you.”
“Nope. I’m busy.”
“Too bad.” If it’s broken, fix it. Dorothea braced herself for an onslaught of insults and said, “I met with your teachers today.”
“So? Would you like a medal?”
Ignore. Continue. “I was told you haven’t been turning in your assignments.”
Holly never even glanced up. “That sounds like a me problem.”
Anger sparked. “I’m giving you the rest of the school year off. That means no more working this desk. Now you can devote yourself to your studies.” Good. Her tone remained calm, collected. “You can use your free time to get caught up...and afterward you can have a little fun.”
Holly pressed a button on her phone with enough force to crack the plastic case, ending the game. Her emerald gaze jerked up at last and narrowed. “You’re firing me?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t.”
“I can, and I did.”
“Well, I’m hiring myself back. You aren’t the boss of me.”
“Actually, I am,” Dorothea said with just enough sneer in her voice to shock them both. “Mom gave the inn to me, not you, and my decisions are final. You’re fired, little girl. You’re welcome!”
Holly hurled her phone across the lobby—the phone Dorothea paid for—and leaped to her feet. “You’re being stupid. You need me.”
Was she freaking kidding? “You are lazy, incompetent, destructive and entitled. In what way do I need you?”
Uh, maybe take it down a notch?
No! New Dorothea didn’t take crap.
Holly pointed an accusing finger at her. “You’re just desperate to get rid of me. Admit it!”
“I’m not—”
“You are!” Foot stomp.
Sweet Lord in heaven. Knife fighting with a serial killer would have been easier than arguing with a teenage girl. “I’m desperate to repair our relationship, Halls. I’m desperate to do right by you. I’m desperate—”
“I don’t care!” Once again her sister stomped her foot like a five-year-old child. “You and Mom worked here during your school years. Therefore I will work here during my school years. Got it?”
So much fury trapped inside one little body, her usual antipathy toward Dorothea nowhere to be found. I’m actually...getting to her?
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “When tradition does more harm than good, it’s time to try something else.”
Holly bristled. “Tradition isn’t the problem. You are. You’re miserable, and you want everyone around you to be miserable, too. I bet that’s why Jazz left you.”
Wow. Low blow. Jazz had been happy with her...at first. And he’d truly seemed to love her. He’d called and texted anytime he was away, just to tell her how much he missed her. When they were together, he’d watched her as if the sight of her gave him great pleasure. If she’d been near, his hands had been on her.
But it had been a trick, only a trick. A long con.
After everything had gone down the
