Picket Fence Promises. Kathryn Springer

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Picket Fence Promises - Kathryn Springer Mills & Boon Steeple Hill

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A blemish erupting on a forehead. These were the things that normal women lived with every day and they had to pluck their own eyebrows besides. I started to wonder if I had the patience to deal with this kind of thing on a regular basis the way Nell did.

      “You see, with the shape of your face you could be bald and still look beautiful,” I told her, hearing the frustration creep into my voice. Yup, that tone will win friends and influence people, Bernice. As far as I was concerned, she had no right to complain about her looks, shrunken bangs or not. Not when some people—present company included—had features that were put together like a human Picasso. “You don’t need the bangs anyway. Watch this.”

      A half hour later there was a crowd of people in the trailer and a very happy actress admiring her reflection in the mirror.

      I turned to give Nell her scissors back. She shook her head.

      “You keep them, sweetie. I have a feeling that you’re going to need them.” Laughing, she walked out the door.

      “Yeah, famous people love to get yelled at,” I muttered under my breath.

      “So, how about dinner?”

      I heard the question but continued to pack away my toolbox full of supplies.

      “You do eat, don’t you?”

      I looked up and there was Alex Scott, standing two feet away. And he was looking right at me. “You’re kidding, right?” I said the first words that came into my mind. “Does it look like I pass up that last piece of cheesecake?”

      “Happens to be my favorite, too. So what do you say?”

      What do I say? What do I say to Alex Scott—Alex Scott— asking me out for dinner? I say that I somehow got sucked into an alternate universe, that’s what I say.

      But even in an alternate universe, I’m sure that the beautiful people only ask other beautiful people out for dinner. “Why?”

      “Because I’ve been forgetting some things that maybe you can help me remember.”

      “Um, Bernice?”

      With that first date flashing before my eyes, I was only dimly aware of Elise squeezing my hand to bring me back to reality.

      And the reality was that Alex had found me. Again.

      “Annie, you did need some help with those curtains this afternoon, didn’t you? We better scoot.” Elise had to use one hand to peel the other one away from the death grip I had on it.

      “I do need help.” Annie was trying really hard not to grin.

      Everyone looked at me, waiting expectantly. Introductions. I could do those.

      “Alex, these are my friends, Elise Penny and Annie Carpenter,” I said, squeezing every drop of polite etiquette into my voice instead of screaming at him. What are you doing here?

      “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Alex Scott.”

      Honestly, was it even necessary to say it? Thanks to cable, everyone with a television set knew who he was.

      “I thought we were going to pick out fabric together,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Elise and Annie. Subliminal message coming through. Don’t you dare leave me!

      “You two probably have a lot of catching up to do,” Elise said.

      “You’ve got that right,” Alex said cheerfully.

      As if on a silent cue, we all fell into step together. Bless their hearts, Annie and Elise could sense that I was still poised to bolt and they positioned themselves protectively on either side of me as we walked toward the salon. I was on my lunch break and my next appointment was in forty-five minutes. I calculated the time it would take to push Alex and his luggage back into the limo and finish what was left of my tuna sandwich. I’d probably even have a few extra minutes to clean out my comb drawer.

      “I’ll call you two later.” As soon as I get rid of him.

      “Sounds great.” Annie linked her arm through Elise’s and she did a funny hop-skip step as they walked away that reminded me of Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. Lions and tigers and movie stars. Oh, my!

      Now we were alone. But not. Alex was oblivious to the attention we were getting as he looked up and down Prichett’s Main Street, absorbing his surroundings. I tried to see it through his eyes and wondered if he’d be able to appreciate it. For the past ten years, this was the view I saw out my window every day, both from the salon and my upstairs apartment. It wasn’t perfect but I loved it. Maybe that’s why I loved it.

      Prichett is one of those blink-and-you-miss-it towns. At one point in time, it had been a thriving little farming community but now it was gasping for air, its respirator a farm-implement factory that employed half the town in some capacity. Even though at least one business a year closed its doors and took a piece out of the town’s heart, I never got the feeling that it affected the town’s soul. There was a sameness to Prichett that gave me a sense of stability.

      “So this is where you’ve been hiding.” Alex shook his head.

      Hiding? That was the trouble with Alex. He always seemed to know things about me that I hadn’t quite figured out for myself.

      “I know what you’re thinking…” At least I thought I could make a pretty good guess. “You’re thinking I could have picked a better spot.”

      “Are you kidding? I’m thinking that I’m insanely jealous.”

      My palms were clammy and I shoved them into the pockets of my jacket. This was not good. Increased heart rate. Sweaty palms. Alex was having that curious effect on me again. The one that should have short-circuited and died about twenty years ago but instead was looking more like it was outfitted with the same batteries as a certain pink, drum-banging bunny. It just keeps going.

      Lord, Mayday! Mayday!

      We were still the objects of everyone’s attention. People were pretending not to stare, which just made it more obvious that they were pretending not to stare.

      “So, what’s it going to be, boss?” the limo driver growled at us. I’d forgotten he was there.

      “I’ll catch up with you later, Digger.”

      Digger? Some parents have a lot to answer for, that’s all I can say.

      The driver’s gaze did a swift once-over down Prichett’s Main Street, just as Alex’s had a few minutes ago. “Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully.

      “I’m sure.”

      With a disdainful snort that should have gotten his fancy hat taken away, the driver jumped into the front seat and the limo cruised away. Leaving the luggage on the sidewalk. Leaving Alex on the sidewalk.

      “Wait a second. Where is he going?”

      “I assume back to Chicago.”

      “But you’re still here.” All right, I have a genius for pointing out the obvious.

      “I’m

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