asked her if the sky was blue on a sunny day. “Well, of course she did. Why wouldn’t she? She was moving, you know.”
“Yes, so I gathered.” On his feet, he extended his hand to her. “Well, you’ve been a great help.”
Sugar took the compliment as her due. “That’s what Gloria said. But I couldn’t help enough. Not her. Here.” She slipped three large cookies into his pocket. “For later. You might get hungry.”
He left feeling somewhat guilty about deceiving a woman who seemed bent on helping everyone who crossed her path.
The sun grazed off the window as she passed, catching her attention. Raising her eyes, surprise drenched her when she saw the reflection.
Idiot.
It still startled her, at unguarded moments, to see the different face looking back at her. To realize that the woman with the short, dark hair and blue eyes was not someone else, but her. In her mind’s eye, she was still a blonde, still green-eyed. Yet now she was a woman with a life that held promise instead of one who had come full circle, returning to what she’d once felt was the beginning of the road.
Not the end, just a breather. She had to remember that.
With effort, she shook herself free of the morose mood. It wasn’t like her. No matter what, she’d always looked on the positive side. Stopping, she tucked a book back into place on the shelf.
There was more reason than ever to focus on the positive side. There wasn’t just herself to think of. Her son needed her.
Her son.
She looked at her watch. The last customer she’d helped had taken more time than she’d judged. If she was going to be at the school in time to pick Andrew—no, Jesse, she upbraided herself. If she was going to be in time to pick Jesse up, she was going to have to get going. Now.
“I’m taking my break now, Jon,” she called out to the burly man nursing a cup of espresso at the information counter.
The bald-headed man gave a half nod in acknowledgment to her announcement and went back to perusing a copy of one of the books UPS had dropped off this morning.
She smiled to herself. Some things never changed. Jon Peterson was lost to the world when he had his nose stuck in a good mystery. He’d been that way during the four years she’d worked here while she’d attended college. Heaven help anyone if they approached him with a question. Like as not, Jon was apt to send them into the self-help section even if they asked for a cookbook.
She blessed Jon for the umpteenth time since she’d arrived more than three weeks ago. If not for him and his calming influence, she could very well have come unglued that first night in San Francisco. If he had been away on one of his many minivacations that he’d always loved to take…well, she didn’t want to think about it.
Trying to get to the front doors, she found her path blocked by a well-built man in his early twenties wearing a pricey sheepskin jacket and a cheap smile. He made no effort to move out of her way.
“Since you’re free, why don’t I buy you a cup of coffee to go along with that break?”
She’d been uncomfortably aware that the man had been sizing her up for at least the last fifteen minutes, meandering closely behind her as she stocked new books on the shelves. She’d caught him looking at her at least three times, attempting to make eye contact. She’d looked away each time. He gave her the shivers. Not the good kind.
Maybe it was her situation that made her so edgy, so suspect of every man who looked her way. Maybe she was being unduly sensitive and the man was just trying to strike up a conversation, nothing more.
But whatever he was attempting to do, she had no time for it. As it was, if she didn’t hurry, she was going to be late.
Since he was a potential customer, she strove to remain polite. “No, thank you, I have an errand to run.” Sidestepping him, she tried to get by.
One quick movement and he was in front of her again, blocking her path. He was not a man who was about to take no for an answer. “You work here, don’t you?”
She glanced toward Jon, but his nose was buried in the book. None of the other people who worked in the store were within eye-contact range. She raised her head defiantly as she looked back at the man.
“Yes.”
His eyes washing over her, he was obviously taken with what he saw. “Well then, whatever happened to that old saying, the customer is always right?”
“That depends on what the customer wants.”
A smile split his handsome face, failing to reach his eyes. “Guess.”
If she called out to Jon, she’d cause a scene. The last thing she wanted was a scene. Just peaceful anonymity. “I’m afraid I don’t have the time right now.” She tried to move past him again, but the man swayed, blocking her every move. “I need to be somewhere else,” she said.
He put up his hand against a shelf, cutting her off from making an exit. “Yes, with me.”
Suddenly, he found himself being spun around and looking up at a stranger who was several inches taller than he was.
“The lady said no. What part of ‘no’ didn’t you understand?” Ben asked.
Cold fury contorted the man’s handsome features. It was evident he wasn’t accustomed to being turned down, or opposed. “This doesn’t concern you.”
Ben’s hand tightened around his arm. He gave the man no reason to doubt he meant business. “Lack of manners always concerns me. Now, apologize to the lady and let her pass.”
She’d always loved westerns as a child. The rugged hero in the white hat coming to the aid of the wronged, put-upon but feisty heroine. Time and again, she’d eat up the stories even though they were always the same. Only the faces and names changed.
And now she had her very own cowboy riding to her rescue.
Annoyed but smart enough to know when he was outmatched, the man glared sullenly at her. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Ben slowly nodded his head, as if evaluating the words. “A little lacking in poetry, but it’ll do.” Releasing his hold on the man’s arm, Ben held his hand up. “You can go. Now.”
Embarrassed, the man stalked out.
Ben shook his head, watching to make sure he left before turning back to the sultry-looking woman. He had no doubt she had more than her share of run-ins like that. Women with faces and figures as beautiful as hers generally did. “I apologize for my species. Just because we all walk upright doesn’t make us all civilized.”
The laugh that bubbled up in her throat was just a little nervous. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure—” he glanced down at the small, square name tag “—Gina Wassel.” He raised his eyes to hers. “And now, would you mind pointing me in the direction of the manager?”
She would have liked to stay and ask him if she could help, but the jerk who
