"Young woman." Mrs. Bakkman clucked her tongue. "You have to be taken in hand. Just look at yourself."
Ellie was startled. She couldn’t look that bad, could she? She pushed her glasses up her nose.
Mrs. B. flicked a hand toward her. "That dress, combined with that cocoa colored hair is just glorious. I don’t see why you keep those curls all wadded up at the back of your head like that. If I had hair like that at your age, I’d make sure everyone could see it. And your figure… Look." Her voice was sincerely complimentary.
Ellie followed Mrs. Bakkman’s direction and turned to face a three-way mirror attached to the side of the dressing room. The woman who stood there looked too stylish to be Ellie Severance, Marine Corps Staff Sergeant and all-around dogsbody.
"All you need is a little fashion assistance. You’ve got a lovely figure. It’s a shame to cover it up with frumpy clothing. Didn’t your mother ever take you shopping?"
Ellie felt the smile freeze on her face. Her mother had never had the time to take Ellie anywhere, let alone shopping. As a divorcee, Mona White-Severance let it be known all her waking hours were spent slaving away at her secretarial job in order to maintain a home and put food on the table for Ellie. She never let Ellie forget the bitter divorce between herself and Ellie’s father. That bitterness tainted her attitude about everything reminiscent of her former husband, including her daughter.
"I was never very interested in clothing as a teenager," Ellie said. "I thought it was high time I started." She smiled at Mrs. Bakkman in the mirror. "I’ll go try on the dark gray suit. Okay?"
"I’ll wait for you out here. By the way, what is your name?"
"Ellie Severance." She extended her hand.
Mrs. B’s handshake was firm and dry. "All right, Miss Severance. Let’s see that next outfit."
Ellie changed into the charcoal gray tuxedo-style suit, at first having a bit of trouble with the lack of buttons. Finally, she had the fitted trousers zipped, and the silky jacket fastened as securely as possible. The air from the store’s heating vents slid right down the front of the jacket’s V-neck like a cold finger. Ellie looked down and saw that quite a bit of her generous cleavage was exposed. Stacy had been right, the only thing holding the jacket up was gravity and lots of hours at the base gym doing incline bench presses. Three cheers for firm breasts. She stepped out of the changing room.
"Marvelous!" Mrs. Bakkman clapped her hands and walked all the way around Ellie while she eyed her with a proprietary stare. "Take a look."
Again, Ellie turned to the mirror. "Holy cow!" She was shocked by the amount of creamy white bosom that surged between the black satin borders of the lapel. "I couldn’t wear this in public." She slowly shook her head.
"Pish posh." Mrs. B waved the motion aside with a toss of her fingers. "You’ve certainly got the chest for it. So many women come in here who don’t have enough to fill up a teacup, let alone a sophisticated little number like that."
She sniffed and looked offended. "Then they have the nerve to ask me to ruin the cut of the top by taking it in. If they would stop drinking Diet Cokes and eating lettuce leafs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, they might have something to put into that jacket."
Ellie laughed.
"Miss Severance, you realize you wouldn’t even wear a bra underneath that, don’t you? Otherwise the front of the bra would show."
Ellie cocked her head to one side as she studied her reflection. No bra? That sounded sinfully delicious. "It’s a beautiful suit. They’re both great. I think I’ll—"
"Ellie Severance, just look at you!" Susan breezed through the rows of racks. She looked chic in a pair of black knit trousers and a fitted black cashmere sweater. "I’m glad you’re still here. I thought I was going to miss you. Sorry I’m late."
Ellie barely glanced her way. "Where have you been? And what do you think of this outfit? Would it be perfect for my date with Kurt?"
Susan paused, her blonde head tilted to one side. "Mmm, I think it’s a little bit much for a first date, don’t you? How about this one?" She grabbed an electric blue dress with dolman sleeves off a nearby rack. The neck was an unadorned scoop but the dress’ bias-cut hemline would skim Ellie’s legs at mid-thigh.
"That dress is totally inappropriate for this young woman’s hair color and temperament," Mrs. Bakkman sputtered indignantly.
Susan leaned in close to Ellie and whispered, "Perfect for red hair though, right, Ellie?"
Ellie winced. Damn. She’d forgotten about the stupid wig and the charade she had gotten herself into. Susan was right. With the crimson wig, the silk dress would look just fine, and it certainly was eye-catching.
Susan checked the size of the blue dress. "This will fit you. Listen, I’m parked next to a hydrant out front, and I don’t want my car to get towed. I’m going out back and see if there’s another space available."
"What do you care if that old pile of junk gets towed? You’ve got the only car on base that’s older and junkier than mine." Ellie smiled, thinking of Susan’s battered old yellow Nova coupe.
"Not today, girlfriend." Susan’s smiled widened. "I’ve just gotten myself a well-deserved early Christmas present, and let me give you a hint—it has four wheels and lots of leather." She turned and called back over her shoulder. "Meet me outside."
The tinkle of the shop door heralded her exit.
Mrs. B. looked like she was sucking lemons. "That friend of yours is a little pushy when it comes to clothes she’s not buying, don’t you think?"
Ellie shrugged. "I’m sorry. Susan is kind of like a contained tornado. She gets an idea in her head, and everyone and everything in her path either gets sucked into her plan, or blown far away."
Mrs. B gave a noncommittal hmph.
"But I think I’m only going to take part of Susan’s advice, Mrs. Bakkman. I’d like to buy all three outfits, please."
Mrs. Bakkman looked considerably cheered by the prospect of a big sale, and with an approving nod, lost no time in getting Ellie’s three outfits wrapped on their hangers and hung in a black garment bag that had the Bakkman’s Boutique logo emblazoned across the front in spidery gold script.
"I hope you enjoy these," she said as she handed Ellie the receipt. "I know you’ll do justice to them all—even the blue one, though it really isn’t your style." She looked up at Ellie and the lines at the corners of her eyes deepened with a smile. "I take that back. If you wanted to, you could make anything your style. It just takes a little practice. Come see us again soon."
Ellie wiggled a good-bye wave as she exited the store, then looked around for Susan. She didn’t have to look far. Parked just in front of her own elderly VW Bug was a new silver Audi sports coupe. Susan leaned against it, arms and ankles crossed, and a gigantic smile on her face.
"It’s beautiful." Ellie walked all the way around the shining vehicle, then leaned in the open window to admire the buttery soft black leather interior and gleaming wood paneling. She’d bet fifty bucks Susan would make people take their shoes off first before getting in.
"It should be, for the amount I paid," came Susan’s lazy reply.
"How did you ever afford it on your salary?" Ellie asked.
"How did you afford all of those fancy clothes on your salary?" Susan countered with a grin, and pointed at the large Bakkman’s bag.
Ellie laughed. "I really don’t buy much in the way of clothing. You know that. So I’ve got some money to spend on extras. It’s a good thing I get a discount at the bookstore, or else all of my take-home pay would go right into the Book Nook’s cash register."
"Must be nice to have wads of extra cash lying around."
"Not lots. I save, too."
"Anyway—" Susan shoved away from the car and checked her watch. "You need to haul ass to get to the bookstore, or you’ll be late. Call me after you get your date set up. He’s calling you tonight, right? We can arrange to get together beforehand so I can do your makeup again."
"Susan…" Ellie tried to say
she really didn’t want to repeat last night’s costume charade, but it was too late. With a lithe twist, Susan slid inside the car, fired up the engine and with a honk and a wave, roared away from the curb. Even the horn sounded expensive.
A few minutes later, Ellie pulled into the bookstore parking lot. After a moment’s hesitation, she picked up the garment bag. Vera Livretti would offer an honest opinion of the purchases. Plus it wasn’t just her friend’s feelings about the clothing that she needed. Ellie wanted advice about her upcoming date, and Vera was just the person to ask.
The Book Nook was an old adobe house that had been converted into a bookstore by its owner, Emma Alderman. Vera worked at the Nook as the manager, display designer, and resident palm reader, although Ellie wasn’t sure how much of Vera’s prophesies were geared towards encouraging book purchases and how many were genuine portents.
She walked in the front door, stooping to give Gabriel a quick pat. Gabe was the official bookstore cat and had full run of the establishment. Besides keeping the local population of mice at bay, he enjoyed stalking customers through the twisty maze of rooms, staring at them through the bookshelves like a tiger eyeing prey. Gabe blinked with contentment and resumed his guard cat position near the door.
"Vera? I’m here," Ellie called as she wound her way through the store’s rooms. Looked like Vera had spent the better part of her week decorating for the holidays. No religion went disregarded—she covered Christmas, Hanukkah, and Kwanzaa all in one fell swoop. A few customers stood here and there, absorbed in their browsing. Most of them were regulars who came in for the conversation as much as anything else.
She finally found Vera at the back of the store in the children’s section, struggling to set up an end cap filled with Lemony Snickett books. Ellie was pleased to see a new volume in the series had come out.
"Hold on. Let me give you a hand with that." She laid her purchases down on a reading table and grabbed for the other side of the shelving unit.
They shuffled the end cap into place near the rest of the chapter books and took a step back to admire the display. Vera had used papier-mâché and paint to give the unit the appearance of being a huge, creepy castle.
"The kids are going to eat those books up." And they’d dote on the attention Vera gave them, too.
"God, I hope so." Vera sighed and stretched her back with a sharp popping noise. "It took me two hours to get those silly turrets looking just right."
Somehow Ellie didn’t think Vera minded all that much. She had a zest for life and an appreciation for detail not too many people could match. She was a vivacious woman in her early forties with long, black hair she usually wore in a single plait down her back.
Creative and eccentric, she dressed to entertain herself as well as the customers. Today, she was in an exotic mood and wore a mango colored sari with matching brocade slippers. Her arms were piled with brass and copper bracelets that clinked as she moved, and her braid was decorated with strands of yellow and orange beads looped in and out through her hair, ending at a small bell that tinkled with each twitch of her head.
"Nice outfit," Ellie told her.
"Thanks," replied Vera. "I did a Bengali-themed story time for the kids today. One of the five-year-olds wanted to know if I could make cobras dance by playing a flute." She laughed—a bright sound. "I told him yes, but my snake was on vacation for the winter in New Delhi."
They giggled together for a moment, then Vera looked hard at Ellie.
"Your hair is down. I like it like that. It makes you look less severe, more relaxed. What’s the occasion?" Vera raised one delicate eyebrow. "Do I sense a man entering your sphere of influence?"
Ellie didn’t want to go into any details right now, but knew that once she showed Vera the Bakkman’s bags, more questions would come out. Anyway, Vera was a good listener. She might be able to give some good advice about the wig and what to do about the charade.
Ellie sighed and picked up her bags. "Let’s put these away in the coffee room, then I’ll spill the whole sordid tale."
Two hours later, the last customer was leaving and Vera had just turned the "closed" sign around on the front window. Ellie had managed to describe most of the past two day’s exploits, in between book buyers, and now they were finally alone so she could get Vera’s opinion.
"So what do you think I should do? Wear the wig tomorrow night or not?"
Vera opened her mouth to reply when a hard rap at the door interrupted her. "Who could that be? I’ve got the closed sign showing and the overhead lights are all off." She peeked through the front window at the porch, then clucked her tongue. Leaning over, Vera unlocked the front door and pushed it open.
"Jess Alderman," she exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Is there some sort of emergency?"
It wasn’t the tall, gaunt man with the gray hair who caught Ellie’s attention. It was the younger man with the muscular thighs who trailed Alderman into the store like a lithe shadow.
Ellie gasped.
Agent Duncan’s stunning blue eyes burned straight into her own. He was just as thrilled to see her as she was to see him—which wasn’t much.
Chapter 5
* * *
They stared at each other for a long moment, each face a mirror of dislike and awareness.
"What’re you doing here? It’s Friday night. I thought you’d be hanging out at the Lost Oasis."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Kurt wanted to kick himself. A wave of annoyance tinged with embarrassment rushed over him. Why was he continuing to snipe at this woman? Stay calm and pull it together.
He forced his face into a smile and tried to ignore the curl of shame that twisted in his gut. Something about this woman pushed his buttons, and he was damned if he knew what it was. It bothered him and he didn’t like it one bit.
Beside him in the doorway, Jess made a surprised grunt, then stepped into the shop. He nodded at Severance, who continued to glare daggers at Kurt.
"So…you two know each other?" Jess’ question hung in the air.
Kurt yanked the door shut and shrugged, waiting for her to answer the question as he knew she would. His mind whirled. How did Jess Alderman know her? Was she an acquaintance or was it just from court?
"Mr. Duncan enjoys giving me advice." Her tight voice dripped acid. "He seems to fancy himself as a special fashion consultant for women Marines."
"Just the ones who need a lot of help," he snapped back. Her very presence pricked his skin.
"I don’t need your help with anything, buster." She stepped toward him, fists balled.
Kurt glared down at her. Of its own accord, his gaze shifted to her hair. Free of its usual confining knot, it cascaded in a riot of curls down her back and around her face. It was a rich brown, the color of bitter chocolate, and shone with mahogany highlights. There was so much of it, it had to weigh a ton, and it looked silky. He had the appalling urge to reach out and stroke the one soft curl that nestled against her cheek. Horrified, Kurt plunged his hands into his jeans’ pockets.
"Children, children." Jess followed up with a fatherly tsk. "How was business today, Vera?" He moved between Kurt and Severance, blocking what ever current coursed between them.
"We had a good day, Jess." Vera shuffled a stack of bookmarks into place beside the register. "Lots of sales. But I told Emma that when she called earlier."
Jess’ wife and owner of The Book Nook was visiting an old college friend in San Diego. Probably another reason why Jess seemed so distracted lately. Kurt chanced another look at Staff Sergeant Severance. Her ivory cheeks glowed pink with anger and her eyes narrowed behind the unattractively thick glasses that balanced on her pert nose.
"I know she calls you each evening to check up, Vera, but this is business of a different sort. I need to get up into the attic crawl space and pull down a trunk that’s stored up there. Apparently, it can’t wait until Emma comes home on Monday. I brought along my hired muscle to help with the lifting." He pointed a thumb at Ku
rt.
Vera nodded, and the small bell at the end of her braid emitted a cheerful, tinkling peal. "No problem, Jess. Come on and help me set up the ladder. We’ll call your muscle when we need him." She smiled, a mischievous twinkle that made her look ten years younger than her forty-some years, and led Jess out of the front room.
Vera tossed back, "Play nice, kids," as they left and suddenly Kurt found himself alone with a very hostile young woman.
"Why are you here at the bookstore?" His question cut the long silence.
"Are you surprised to know I can read?" She shot back.
Kurt took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. "No, I was just making small talk, that’s all."
She narrowed her eyes as if trying to decide what his motive might be. All Kurt wanted was to get out of there in one piece. As it was, the encounter had already ruined his night.
"I started working here part-time about a month ago. I fill in whenever they need an extra pair of hands." She pushed her glasses up again, the gesture unconscious and automatic.
"Why don’t you get contact lenses?" Kurt blurted out before he could stop himself.
Another flush stained her cheeks.
He waved away the question with a flick of his hand. "I’m sorry, that was too personal. You don’t have to answer that." He had to try to salvage something here or he’d be up all night seething over the confrontation. "You know, we really got off on the wrong foot this morning. I was having a bad day, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry."
He watched her weigh his words as she scanned his face, looking for any signs of deception. Finally, she nodded. "I accept your apology, and you’re right. You were a real asshole."
He stiffened. "I didn’t say I was an asshole—"
Jess’ shout from the back of the bookstore interrupted further sparring. Muttering a curse, Kurt pushed past his antagonist and stalked back to the modified kitchen that served as a small break room for the staff. A metal folding ladder sat beneath an open trap door in the ceiling. The light was on in the attic, and he could hear Vera chattering to Jess.
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