Yeah, surprises are great, except when the surprise is that your husband is leaving you for someone else. Getting that shocking news right after Annie had broken her ankle during a skiing vacation designed to rejuvenate their marriage was not fun at all. But to be honest, she couldn’t claim total surprise. She and Zach had been on the skids for a long time before the ski trip.
The mechanics of the divorce hadn’t taken long. She’d had the cast taken off the day before she became officially single. By then she was also officially overweight. The combination of restricted mobility and depression had added the hated thirty pounds in no time.
Shoving those crummy thoughts aside, she focused on her story. As she worked, the aroma of coffee and chocolate tickled her senses. She glanced sideways at a steaming mug and a chocolate chip cookie on a napkin. Both had appeared as if by magic, and she smiled. Jeremy had always been the considerate type.
She welcomed the coffee, both for the comfort and for the caffeine boost. But the cookie was off-limits. The mug had the Click-or-Treat logo on it—a computer terminal wearing a Zorro-type mask. Cute. She’d bet Jeremy had designed it.
Blowing across the hot liquid before taking a rejuvenating sip, she returned her attention to the computer screen. Fortunately the Internet café owner-budding magician story took shape quickly. Keeping track of the time display in the corner of the screen, Annie pulled in some of her previous knowledge of Jeremy to round out the profile, contrasting his quiet teenage persona with his emerging showmanship.
Opening this café and becoming a successful entrepreneur seemed to be bringing out new elements of Jeremy’s personality. She wondered whether any other secrets lurked under that introverted exterior. In any case, she had her first story ready to go, and a lead on a second one. Tomorrow she’d visit Billie Smoot’s relocated bobble-head shop for another slice of small-town life.
Right before she hit the SEND button on Jeremy’s story, she realized that her editor might want a shot of him. He’d told her to take a digital camera along, just in case. He wasn’t expecting great photography from her, thank God.
The shot needed to be posed, not candid, because she wanted to make sure she had a full frontal view of Jeremy’s T-shirt with the Click-or-Treat logo on it. And he should be holding a carafe. She wouldn’t bother asking him to do the magic trick again because her digital camera wasn’t fast enough to pick it up.
She pulled the camera out of her tote. This would have to be fast. She had about five minutes before deadline. Jeremy moved around the café refilling coffee mugs and answering questions about various Web site searches.
Camera in hand, she approached him. ‘‘Can I get a quick picture?’’
He looked up, and a flush crept up from the collar of his T-shirt. ‘‘Uh, I’m not very photogenic.’’
‘‘Dude, don’t be stupid,’’ the teenager named Tony said. ‘‘This is promo we’re talking about here. Can I be in it?’’
‘‘Me, too!’’ A pretty blonde who reminded Annie of herself at that age hopped up from her chair.
That started the stampede, and Annie decided to go with it—Jeremy surrounded by teenagers. ‘‘Hold up the coffeepot, Jeremy,’’ she said.
‘‘He should totally do the magic trick,’’ Tony said.
‘‘No.’’ Jeremy looked extremely uncomfortable.
‘‘I couldn’t capture it with this camera, anyway,’’ she said and was glad to see him relax a little bit.
But he still seemed stiff and self-conscious. ‘‘I’m not sure this is a good—’’
‘‘Yes, it is,’’ Annie said. ‘‘Hold up the carafe and smile.’’
‘‘But—’’
‘‘Just do it.’’ Tony nudged him. ‘‘You’ll be famous.’’
‘‘Not my goal.’’ Jeremy held up the carafe, but he wasn’t smiling.
‘‘Okay, everybody. Say cheese.’’ Annie hoped that would prompt Jeremy to smile. She had new respect for the staff photographers. How did they handle a reluctant subject?
‘‘Forget that cheese thing,’’ Tony said. ‘‘Everybody say hot sex.’’
They all laughed, including Jeremy, and Annie snapped the picture. She took a quick look at it and was surprised. Jeremy was cuter than she’d thought.
‘‘Perfect! Thanks, guys.’’ She hurried back to her computer so she could upload both her story and the digital shot, along with a caption for the photo.
Done. Sitting back with a sigh of satisfaction, she picked up the coffee mug and realized she’d drained it. She’d also eaten the cookie. All of it. Shit. With no gym in sight, she’d have to run a couple of miles tonight to work off that cookie.
‘‘More coffee?’’
Glancing up, she found Jeremy standing beside her with a coffee carafe in one hand. ‘‘Is that the magic pot?’’
‘‘Nope. No tricks this time. Just a refill.’’
She consulted her watch. ‘‘Thanks for the offer, but I’d better get going. I promised Melody I’d help her make favors tonight.’’
‘‘Right. Wedding stuff. I need to call Evansville about the tux order.’’
Annie made a face. ‘‘Please don’t remind me about wedding clothes. It’s a painful subject.’’
‘‘It is?’’ He looked surprised. ‘‘I thought women liked dressing up.’’
‘‘We do if the outfits are flattering. But Melody picked out this hideous peach color for my matron-of -honor dress.’’ She shuddered. ‘‘I look truly disgusting in it.’’
‘‘I seriously doubt that.’’ He gazed at her, his gray eyes warm and friendly behind the lenses of his wire-rimmed glasses.
‘‘Trust me, it’s true.’’ As she met his gaze, she noticed something she hadn’t seen in a guy’s expression for some time—sexual interest. It felt damned good.
So it was only Jeremy, the class geek, who was giving her The Look. Sometimes a girl had to take what was available. Besides, Jeremy was far from ugly, as she’d recently discovered after taking his picture. He had a strong jaw and good cheekbones, and he’d filled out quite a bit since they’d been in school together.
He also had really nice eyes, something she’d never noticed before. His plastic-framed glasses had been replaced by trendy metal-rimmed ones, and his thick brown hair looked more stylish than she remembered.
To be honest, she hadn’t paid much attention to Jeremy, period. He’d been so shy in school, always in the background of any activity. Although she’d made good grades, too, she’d never let homework interfere with her social life.
How times changed. The whole mess with Zach had screwed up her confidence to the point that she no longer had a social life. Maybe that explained why she was soaking up the warmth coming from Jeremy.
‘‘So you sent the story in?’’ he asked.
‘‘Yep. Thanks for being such a good sport about the picture.’’
He shrugged. ‘‘I just—’’
‘‘I know. The whole thing was sort of abrupt. But the picture turned out great.’’ She picked up her camera. ‘‘Want to see it?’’
‘‘Uh, that’s okay.’’ He backed up a step.
Not wanting to force the picture on him, she put down the camera. What a contrast to Zach, who would have wanted to see the image immediately and would have insisted on retakes until he was satisfied that he looked sufficiently hot in the photo. ‘‘Anyway, I hope they run the picture with the story,’’ she said. ‘‘Does anyone in town subscribe to the Trib?’’
‘‘I do here at the café.’’
‘‘I would think you’d get it online, instead.’’
‘‘Well, I can,’’ Jeremy said, ‘‘but people around here seem to like reading the print edition. They might claim to get all the news they need from the Big Knob Gazette, but everyone who comes in here sneaks a glance at the Trib.’’
‘‘Great.’’ She pushed back her chair and stood.
‘‘Then they can check out the story.’’ She pulled her coat off the back
of the chair.
‘‘Guess so. Here, let me help you with that.’’ Setting down the carafe beside the computer, he held the coat while she shoved her arms into the sleeves.
‘‘Thank you.’’ The brush of his hands across her shoulders felt nice. Casual touch didn’t happen so much these days now that sexual harassment had become an issue. Which was a good thing, of course. People shouldn’t be subjected to unwanted caresses. She just hadn’t realized that living alone in the city would throw her into a virtual touch-free zone, and she missed human contact.
Oh, who was she kidding? She missed male contact. She missed sex. Right after Zach left, she’d thought men were all creeps and she could easily live without them. Six months later, she was ready to acknowledge that they had a few redeeming qualities.
Buttoning her coat, she turned to Jeremy. ‘‘I need to settle up. What do I owe you for the computer time and the goodies?’’ Maybe it was her use of the word goodies, or the direction her thoughts had taken when he’d helped her on with her coat. Whatever the reason, she suddenly found herself wondering how Jeremy would be in bed. How totally inappropriate.
‘‘It’s on the house.’’ He picked up the carafe again.
‘‘No, seriously. Let me pay you.’’
‘‘That makes no sense. You just did a story on my café. Like Tony said, that’s free publicity.’’
‘‘Which you didn’t ask for. Which you even tried to avoid, as I recall.’’ She really liked looking into those gray eyes. His obvious sexual interest soothed her battered ego.
‘‘I’m just not comfortable in the limelight.’’
‘‘Yet you’re training to be a magician. There must be an extrovert in there trying to get out.’’ She enjoyed the thought of that. She wouldn’t mind being around for the transformation.
‘‘It’s only a hobby.’’
‘‘But a fun hobby. Listen, I need to pay you. I’ll be coming in every day to file a new story, so I can’t have you comping me all week. That’s not fair.’’
‘‘We could say it’s for old time’s sake.’’
‘‘Or I could buy you a drink over at the Big Knobian after you close up shop here.’’
The invitation obviously surprised him, but it surprised her, too. She must be in serious need of male companionship if she’d hit on the first guy she came across in Big Knob. She’d said it, though, and she couldn’t very well take it back now.
He looked conflicted. ‘‘Actually, I’m supposed to be meeting someone.’’
Whoops. ‘‘Of course. I shouldn’t have assumed that—I mean, a terrific guy like you would be seeing someone. My bad.’’
‘‘That’s not—’’
‘‘No, really, don’t worry about it. I’ve been gone a long time, and I’ve lost track of who’s dating who around here.’’ Clutching her tote, she backed toward the door. ‘‘I’ll get my little sis to give me a cheat sheet so I don’t make those kinds of mistakes again.’’ In fact, she wouldn’t be making any mistakes at all, because she would eliminate all thoughts of men and sex from her mind.
‘‘I’m not meeting a woman!’’ Jeremy said it loud enough that all activity in the café stopped and everyone’s attention turned to them.
‘‘Oh. Oh.’’ Annie blushed. She’d always had lousy gaydar, and here was proof. She’d hit on someone who batted for the other team. She’d been so caught up in her own deprivation that she’d imagined sexual interest where there was none. He’d probably been admiring the cut of her cream-colored blouse and trying to guess the designer.
Tony was the first to comment. ‘‘Hey, I’m cool with that, Jeremy, my man. To each his own, is my motto.’’
Jeremy groaned. ‘‘That’s not what I meant at all. It’s a . . . a business meeting. I’m not . . . I don’t want you to think that I’m . . .’’
‘‘I wasn’t thinking anything,’’ Annie lied.
‘‘So what do we have going on here, gayness or straightness?’’ Tony asked. ‘‘Inquiring minds want to know. We’re not here to judge. We’re just curious.’’
Annie turned toward the kid, who was too precocious for his own good. ‘‘It’s none of our business. Let’s just drop it.’’ And then she hurried out of the café before the situation grew any worse.
‘‘So now Annie thinks I’m gay.’’ Jeremy sat on a purple sofa in the Lowells’ parlor, with Megabyte sprawled at his feet in her normal floor-rug pose. Jeremy wished he could be naturally relaxed like his dog. Instead he had to rely on the mug of Irish coffee Ambrose had just handed him. He’d had a rough day.
‘‘Don’t worry about a little miscommunication,’’ Dorcas said. ‘‘That can be fixed.’’ She and her black cat, Sabrina, occupied a red wing chair set at a right angle to the love seat, while Ambrose leaned against the mantel, sipping his Irish coffee. Sabrina kept eyeing Megabyte and arching her back, but Meg took no notice.
‘‘I don’t know how to fix it.’’ Then Jeremy realized he was asking for the very thing he didn’t want— matchmaking services. ‘‘Wait. Forget I said that. I’m really not here for that kind of advice.’’
‘‘Even if it’s free?’’ Over the top of her mug, Dorcas focused her amber gaze on him.
He was sorely tempted because he couldn’t figure out his next move where Annie was concerned. But he was twenty-eight years old, for God’s sake. He shouldn’t have to consult Dear Abby on this issue. ‘‘I’ll work it out,’’ he said.
Dorcas nodded. ‘‘No doubt over a nice meal.’’
‘‘You think I should ask her out?’’ He envisioned a quick and embarrassing rejection. Before he risked asking for a date, he had to clear up her misconceptions about him.
‘‘I think it would be a good move.’’ Dorcas looked as if she understood good moves. A sleek brunette in her fifties who dressed with big-city flair, she didn’t seem to belong in a backwoods place like Big Knob.
‘‘But she won’t go out with me.’’
‘‘I’ll bet she would,’’ Ambrose said. ‘‘Most women aren’t prejudiced about gay guys.’’
Jeremy clenched his jaw. ‘‘I don’t want her to go out with me under false pretenses. Damn, if only I’d known what to say. But I’m not quick on my feet in a situation like that, and she left so fast. I couldn’t very well run after her insisting I’m heterosexual.’’ He took a large gulp of the Irish coffee. The drink was strong and had an unusual taste . . . maybe amaretto.
Ambrose’s lips twitched. ‘‘No, running down the street proclaiming your virility would have been worse. But Dorcas is right. Get the date, which will allow you plenty of time to clear up the misunderstanding.’’
Ambrose sounded so urbane, so . . . un-Big Knobian. Jeremy had never been able to figure out what Ambrose and Dorcas were doing in this small town handing out relationship advice. But here they were, and here he was, listening to that advice. He couldn’t argue that they had a good point.
‘‘I have Tony closing up tomorrow night,’’ he said, ‘‘so I could leave the café by five. I could take her to the Hob Knob for an early dinner. That’s even assuming she’d go, which I still say she won’t.’’
Ambrose set his mug on the mantel. ‘‘Well, you can be sure of it if you throw in a little magic.’’
‘‘That’s the other thing. I appreciate your offer, but there’s no way you can teach me enough to make her believe I’m a magician. I’ll be the goofy guy getting tangled in colored scarves and dropping coins on the floor.’’
‘‘Not on my watch.’’ Ambrose crossed to the love seat. ‘‘Drink up. I’ll mix you another one.’’
‘‘Is that a good idea?’’ Jeremy appreciated how the drink had softened the painful memory of Annie leaping to the wrong conclusion about his sexuality. But he was here to learn something, not get wasted.
‘‘It’s an excellent idea,’’ Dorcas said.
‘‘But shouldn’t I be looking for ways to sharpen my reflexes?’’
Dorcas shook her head. ‘�
�You need to sharpen your instincts, not your reflexes.’’ As she stroked Sabrina, the cat turned her back on Megabyte and curled up in Dorcas’s lap.
‘‘She’s right,’’ Ambrose said. ‘‘At the moment, logic is getting in your way. Another Irish coffee, and you’ll let go of your preconceived ideas of what you can and can’t do.’’
‘‘You mean I’ll lower my inhibitions.’’
Ambrose nodded. ‘‘That’s another way of putting it.’’
‘‘Bottoms up, then.’’ Jeremy drained his mug and handed it to Ambrose.
Once Ambrose had left the room, Jeremy turned to Dorcas. ‘‘I’m serious about what I said before. This is about magic tricks, not matchmaking. Asking Annie out is a good idea, but I’ll take it from here.’’
‘‘I’m sure you will.’’
‘‘Or I won’t.’’ Jeremy thought the statistical chances that he would become romantically involved with Annie were roughly a million to one. ‘‘Magic or no magic, I’m not counting on anything. I mean, Annie’s a city girl now. Our lives are going in completely different directions.’’
‘‘What will be, will be.’’ Dorcas fell silent as she continued to stroke the cat.
Sabrina, however, lifted her head and fixed Jeremy with a green-eyed stare. Then she made a little noise low in her throat that seemed to be a definite comment on the situation. If Jeremy didn’t know better, he’d swear that Sabrina had just told him he was full of it.
Chapter 3
Annie’s fitting for her dress went slightly better early the next morning, but nothing could be done about the overriding problem of the god-awful color. Annie felt overwhelmed by peachyness, drowned in peachnicity, ambushed by peachability.
‘‘That’ll do nicely,’’ her mother said.
‘‘Perfect,’’ Melody agreed with a yawn. They’d stayed up late making favors while their mother finished the alterations.
Annie hadn’t been able to face trying on the dress at midnight, so she’d put it off until this morning. The three women had been up since five because everyone had a tight schedule today. Joy had left the Knob Bobbin in the care of her lovable but scattered assistant the day before, and she wanted to go in early and straighten out any cash-register issues.
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