“I hear you, man. I’ve numbered each of the captions to correspond with the photos and I’m now uploading them to you.”
“Thanks, Jonas. Don’t forget to send me an invoice so I can pay you.”
“You bet.”
Langston ended the call, propped his feet on the edge of the desk and stared at the rain sluicing down the windows. The temperatures hinting of an early spring had dropped drastically and it felt more like December than early April.
A light tapping on the door garnered his attention, and lowering his feet, he swiveled in the executive chair to see the middle-aged man who was responsible for advertising. Within days of purchasing the paper, Langston called a staff meeting and advised everyone their position was at risk if the circulation and the number of ads continued to decrease. Randall Stone had become the focus of the meeting because he headed advertising.
“Yes, Randall?
“When do you plan to send the paper to the printer?”
Langston stared at the pale, slender man who’d relocated to London to live with a widow he’d met on the internet. He spent eight years there before deciding that he missed the States and Wickham Falls. He returned home, married a divorcée with two adult sons and claimed he was living his best life.
“I’d like to deliver it Wednesday. Why?” If he didn’t get the issue to the printer before midnight on Thursdays, then it would be too late to print the paper.
“I’m still waiting for Powell’s Easter sale ad. Do you want me to go there in person to pick it up?”
“No, Randall. I’ll contact Bruce to find out about the delay.” The owner of the department store usually took out a full-page ad for most major holidays.
Randall affected a snappy salute. “Okay.”
Langston waited until he was alone to buzz the receptionist. “I’ll be out for a while. Please take my messages.”
Pulling on a rain poncho he covered his head with a baseball cap and headed for the back staircase to the street level. He didn’t mind the cold, heat, or even snow. But there was something about getting drenched that annoyed him. His mother used to tease him saying he was part feline.
He sprinted down the street to Powell’s and waited for the automatic doors to open. Other than Ruthie’s, the department store was Langston’s favorite place to shop. It was stocked with countless items including housewares, party goods, CDs and DVDs, candy, sporting goods, cleaning, beauty and school supplies. Many of the discs in his permanent music and movie collection he’d purchased from Powell’s. There weren’t many customers in the store, and he attributed that to the weather.
Langston approached a clerk near the checkout counter. “Is Mr. Powell around?”
“No, sir. Mr. Powell is on vacation. His daughter is in the office. Do you want me to page her?”
“Please.”
He exchanged a nod of recognition with Dan Jackson as the man slowly walked up and down aisles. The highly trained ex-military sniper had begun a second career when he opened a security and protection business, only hiring former military.
Langston could not stop staring when he saw Georgina make her way to the front of the store. It wasn’t the first time he’d observed her not wearing makeup; however, he was shocked to see the bluish circles under her clear brown eyes that made it impossible for him to look away. Even her face was thinner, and she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. He wondered if she wasn’t feeling well.
“Are you all right?”
“What happened to good afternoon, Georgi?”
Langston clamped his jaw tightly. She wanted to engage in pleasantries when he wanted answers. He knew he had no right to be concerned about her physical well-being, yet he was. Talking and dancing with Georgina at the fund-raiser was a blatant reminder of what he’d been missing even before his marriage ended. It had taken a while for him to forgive his ex-wife for her duplicity but he eventually realized he’d contributed to her seeking companionship with another man. He’d known of her unresolved childhood issues surrounding abandonment, when they were separated for months, and there were times when she hadn’t known whether he was dead or alive.
“Good afternoon,” he said between clenched teeth. “I came to see your father because Randall needs your ad for this week’s issue.”
Georgina groaned. Her father was responsible for determining which items would go on sale, and then they would sit together to work out the design.
“I’m sorry, Langston, but my father is on vacation and he’s not expected back until the end of the week. And that means I’m going to have to select the sale items and design the ad. How soon do you need it?”
“The final copy will have to be at the printer before nine Wednesday night.”
She groaned again. “I’ll stay after the store closes and work up one for you.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”
Georgina stared at Langston as if he’d suddenly taken leave of his senses. He’d come asking for the ad because he was on deadline, while in the same breath was questioning her. “Do you or don’t you need the ad?”
“Yes, but not at the expense of you falling on your face. When was the last time you had a restful night’s sleep?”
“I don’t remember,” she said truthfully. “I’ve been burning the candles at both ends running the store and packing up what I need to move into my new place.”
Cupping her elbow, Langston steered her over to a rack with snacks, candy bars and mints. “Are you eating regularly?” he whispered.
“I do when I can.”
“I’m coming over after you close to bring you something to eat and to help you with the ad.”
“You don’t have to do that, Langston. I can get something from Ruthie’s.”
“I’ll get something from Ruthie’s or the Den. The choice is yours,” he said. There was a hint of finality in his voice.
Georgina glared up at him. “I don’t need you taking care of me.”
“Someone should, because if you continue burning the candles at both ends you’re never going to survive long enough to enjoy your new home. You’ll end up in the hospital from exhaustion.”
“Why are you so concerned about my health?”
“I’m concerned, Georgi, because I like you. A lot,” he added.
She didn’t want to believe their spending a few hours together more than two weeks ago had elicited feelings in Langston that had him inviting her to his home and concerned for her well-being. A hint of a smile flitted over her expression of uncertainty. And despite her limited experience with the opposite sex, he was the first man, other than her father, who appeared genuinely interested in her welfare.
“Do you feed all the women you like?” she teased.
“Nah, because there aren’t too many women that I like as much as you.”
“Why me, Langston?”
He blinked. “Why not you? Do you believe you’re unworthy for a man to care about you?”
“Of course not!” Her protest came out much too quickly for Georgina to even believe what she’d just confessed. She was aware she had a lot to offer a man but only if he would take the time to get to know and understand her and not relate to her as Powell’s girl or daughter. She also wondered if they would get to see her differently once she left the department store to start up her own business.
“Good. Now, let me know what you’d like to eat, and I’ll bring it by after seven.”
Georgina knew it was futile to argue with Langston. Not when anyone within earshot could overhear them. “Surprise me. Send me a text and I’ll come and open the back door.”
He smiled, bringing her gaze to linger on his mouth. “Now, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
She smiled when she didn’t want to. “Now, go so I can finish some paperwork before I decide what to put on sale.”
Langston sobered. “Do you feel safe staying here alone after the store closes?”
“Yes. I’ll arm the alarm, which is wired directly to the sheriff’s office.”
“That’s good to know.”
Georgina stared at Langston’s departing figure and when she looked at the two women at checkout she realized they also had been staring at him. Girls in their neighborhood had always flirted with him, but to their disappointment he related to them like he had his sister. There was little or no interaction between her and Langston because he was older than she was. She and his sister Jacklyn shared a few classes but somehow, they never connected. Georgina had become fast friends with Sasha Manning, where they trusted each other with their heartfelt secrets.
She’d looked forward to leaving Wickham Falls to attend art school, while Sasha couldn’t wait to graduate to escape her parents’ dysfunctional relationship. Her friend left and returned as a successful pastry chef to open her own bakeshop, while Georgina had stayed and was now looking forward to opening her craft shop.
She walked up and down aisles searching for items to discount for sale. Easter was late this year and while they traditionally discounted Easter-themed candy after the holiday, Georgina decided to advertise them as pre-holiday items. She would further cut the price of chocolate bunnies, jellybeans and Peeps until they exhausted their inventory.
The success of the store came from the dedication of longtime employees. Many were hired within days of graduating high school, and elected to stay because of paid vacation and sick leave, and merit-based raises. Bruce had a policy that if you treated people well, then they would become loyal workers. The store opened at nine and closed at seven Monday through Saturday, and from noon to six on Sundays. And in keeping with the town’s tradition that everyone should be given the opportunity to participate in the three-day Fourth of July celebration, shopkeepers were given the option of closing one day out of the three. Last year Bruce had closed for all three because the Fourth fell on a Friday, and reopened on Monday.
The Fourth of July and the Fall Frolic festivities were her favorite holidays, and even if she’d moved away, Georgina knew she would return to the Falls year after year to celebrate with her townspeople. She took out her phone from the pocket of her smock and snapped photos of the sale items, and went back to her office to finish what she’d been working on before Langston arrived.
She consciously tried not to think about him, because when she did she’d found herself distracted as she recalled what it felt like to be in his arms when they’d danced together. Then there was the way that he stared at her as if he could see beyond the fragile veneer of confidence she worked hard to project whenever she found herself in the presence of a man to whom she was attracted.
Georgina had convinced herself that becoming involved with Langston would prove detrimental to her emotional stability because she couldn’t afford to be distracted by romantic notions, and he was much too attractive and virile to ignore for long periods of time. He was the total package: looks, intelligence and professionally successful.
She knew he was interested in her, but if she could keep him at bay until she felt confident that her business was viable, then she would be more than willing to become involved with him.
Georgina met the stockroom boy as he handed her a packing slip for a shipment of paper goods. “I checked off everything, Miss Powell.”
“Thank you, Justin.” Her father had hired the high school senior to work from three to closing. He proved to be a reliable employee, arriving on time to unpack boxes and stock shelves.
Every barcode was scanned into the computerized cash registers, and twice a week Georgina checked the inventory to determine which items needed to be reordered. Now that she looked back, she realized working full-time at the store for fourteen years had given her the experience and acumen needed to operate her own enterprise.
* * *
A ringtone on her cell phone indicated Georgina had a text message. Langston was at the back door. Everyone left minutes before seven and she’d locked the automatic front doors and activated the security gate that protected the interior of the property from intruders, and then set the alarm. There had been a time when the janitorial service arrived once the store closed, but Bruce had arranged for them to come between the hours of eight and nine to clean up because he hadn’t wanted to stay behind to monitor them. They were bonded by their employer but that hadn’t stopped the theft of housewares and small appliances. He canceled his contract with the company and hired a local man who’d retired as a custodian for the school system who now came in every morning to sweep the floors, clean the bathrooms and bag the trash and garbage.
Georgina punched in the code for the alarm and opened the door. Langston’s slicker was drenched. It hadn’t stopped raining. “Come in and dry off.”
“I don’t like getting wet.”
She waited for him to walk in to close the door and rearm the system. “Why? Because you’re so sweet you might melt like brown sugar?” she teased.
Langston set two shopping bags stamped with Ruthie’s logo on the floor, then lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss until she pushed against his chest. “Tell me, Sleepy Beauty. Am I sweet enough?”
Laughing, Georgina swatted at him as if he were an annoying insect. He reached for her again and she managed to sidestep him. “It’s not Sleepy, but Sleeping Beauty. What happened to me being Cinderella?”
Winking at her, he picked up the bags. “You’re that, too. You admit that you haven’t had much sleep, so the prince thought he’d wake you up with a kiss.”
He wanted to continue to kiss her, and she’d stopped him because she wasn’t ready for whatever Langston would want from her. Would kisses be enough for him or would he want more? And if he did, then she wasn’t ready for the more, which to her translated into them perhaps sleeping together.
She gave him a sidelong glance as she led the way to the break room. “But he only kisses her to wake her from the spell in which she would sleep for a hundred years.”
“You really know your fairy tales, don’t you?”
Georgina flashed a sexy smile. “You’re not the only one whose mother read them fairy tales. But as I got older, I realized some of them were very scary with wolves attempting to eat little pigs, Red Riding Hood, and they are also filled with wicked witches and jealous stepmothers.”
“I never thought of them like that.” Langston paused. “Are you saying that if you have children you won’t read fairy tales to them?”
Having children was something Georgina did not consciously think about. First, she had to get her life together before bringing another one into the world. “I probably will because kids nowadays aren’t frightened of too many things. There are animated movies about friendly monsters, so I doubt if the characters from fairy tales will bother them. What I really like are nursery rhymes and stories from the Little Golden Books.” Georgina smiled when she recalled happier days before she’d started school when her mother would allow her to crawl into bed with her, and she would beg Evelyn to read to her. “By the way, how much did you order?” she asked, deftly changing the topic from children.
Langston rested the bags on a folding chair and then removed his slicker and cap, hanging both on hooks attached to the wall. “Enough for tonight and leftovers for several days.”
Georgina opened an overhead cabinet and took out plates, glasses and two bottles of water from the refrigerator. By the time she’d set the table, Langston had removed containers with roast chicken, steamed green beans, broccoli, carrots, rice, mashed potatoes, pickled beets, caprese and fried shrimp.
His head popped up. “There’s chicken pot pie, beef stew, fried chicken and corn on the cob in the other bag.”
“There’s no way I’m going to be able to eat all this food even if I have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
You’re going to have to take some home with you.”
“Are you going to come over and share it with me?” he asked.
Georgina bit her lip to smother a smile. “What’s with you trying to get me to come to your house?”
Langston sobered. “I don’t like eating alone.”
“You need a girlfriend.” The suggestion was out before Georgina could censor herself.
Langston lowered his eyes. Georgina had just verbalized what he’d been contemplating for several months now. He hadn’t had a girlfriend since coming back to Wickham Falls, even though he’d dated a few women since his divorce yet hadn’t felt at the time that he was ready for a relationship because his life wasn’t exactly stable. He hadn’t been certain whether he would continue to work for the television station but once he was subpoenaed to meet behind closed doors with a congressional committee about his book, Langston had had enough of reporting on wars, navigating DC rush-hour traffic and repeated requests to name his sources.
“You’re probably right,” he said after a pregnant pause. “Do you know any candidates?”
“Nope. But if I think of someone, I’ll let you know. Should she have any particular qualities?”
Langston waited for Georgina to serve herself, then he served himself. “I prefer she be between the ages of thirty and forty. Her physical appearance isn’t a deal breaker, but I would like her to be able to hold an intelligent conversation without her repeating the word like ten times in a sentence.”
Georgina laughed. She knew exactly what he was talking about, because she’d noticed people peppering their speech with the word when making comparisons. “Anything else?”
“She should prefer men.”
“What about dogs and kids?”
“I like dogs and kids, but not particularly in that order,” he said. “I’m less enthusiastic when it comes to cats. I have a friend who has the cat from hell. Every time I’d visit his house, that little furry sucker would come up behind me and rake a paw over the back of my head. I’m certain if I shave my head you’d see scars from her claws.”
Starting Over In Wickham Falls (Wickham Falls Weddings Book 9) Page 6