Read Online Ain’t Misbehaving by Jennifer Greene - Free Book Online Page B

for two hours and you haven’t bought a single thing. On top of that, you’ve been crabby for two weeks. On top of that, you made a date for lunch with me last week, called an hour later to make the same date again and then forgot to show at all. I haven’t seen you in such bad shape since high school. So what’s his name?” Susan’s eyes danced over the rim of her mug.
    “My car’s name is Bertha. And if I’ve been distracted, it’s only because she needs a new transmission,” Kay said wryly.
    “That would explain the crabbiness,” Susan agreed, and added demurely, “Stix says that the man could be a lethal weapon in the wrong hands. He seems to have the terrible feeling you could get burned. Why do you have all the luck?”
    “Is there nothing sacred in this town?” Kay wondered aloud, and took a small sip of the steaming brew. The coffee felt scalding on her tongue, but she welcomed it. After two hours of shopping on a frigid Saturday afternoon, she wasn’t absolutely certain her toes still existed. They were certainly numb.
    “We’re waiting to hear a name,” Susan probed.
    “So was Rumpelstiltskin,” Kay returned cheerfully. “How’s the new job going, anyway?”
    “Kay.”
    “If I really decide to redecorate my living room, do you think I should have the couch reupholstered?”
    Susan, bless her, was diverted. Kay leaned back against the booth, savoring her hot drink. After a moment, she let her coat slide behind her. Her white angora sweater was tucked into maroon cords; both were new. Her hair had a center part, a style equally simple but otherwise different from the one she usually wore.
    The white hat and white mittens were also new, and she’d sprayed a mist of expensive perfume between her breasts and in other places where no one would notice it on a Saturday spent shopping in a heavy coat.
    Occasionally, a woman had to work herself out of a little depression. Change helped. Usually. But then, Kay wasn’t usually depressed.
    “Well…” Susan set down her mug and reached for her coat. “I’m broke—I guess I’ll have to go home. Unless you want to do some more shopping?”
    Kay shook her head. “I’ll probably hit the bookstore, but that’s it.”
    Susan grimaced. “You’re going to buy more books for the kids at the hospital, aren’t you?”
    “It’s almost Christmas,” Kay said defensively as she counted out change for the waitress.
    “It’s only a week after Thanksgiving, and you spend half your salary on stuff for those kids. If you’d save a little, I could really do that living room up right for you.”
    “Next year,” Kay promised.
    “Bull.”
    They both chuckled, and at the entrance to the little café parted ways. Kay started walking toward the bookstore, tugging the collar of her coat around her chin, jamming her mittened hands into her pockets. Shoppers milled around her, laden with packages. Moscow had put up its Christmas lights, and everyone seemed infected with the holiday spirit. As the small town’s main street had been closed to cars, people were free to wander to and fro, crisscrossing streets, hats bobbing, coats pulled tight against the whip of cold wind. Laughter and red cheeks seemed to surround her. She loved it. As much as she’d loved anything these past few weeks.
    Ducking her head against a sudden burst of wind, Kay surged forward. There was no real reason for her to be depressed. She was never depressed. So he hadn’t called. So he’d grabbed a few kisses and split. She’d handed out a few kisses of her own and split more than once.
    She’d thought they had something, that was all. Something she’d never had before, something she couldn’t quite define. Something that left her feeling ridiculously breathless when he was around, like a schoolgirl with a crush. Silly.
    She pushed open the door to Bookpeople and felt an instant rush of warm air caress her freezing cheeks. She pulled off her mittens and sat cross-legged in the