Read Online Clock and Dagger by Julianne Holmes - Free Book Online

ablutions, including layers of lotion and a lot more makeup than I normally wear. The natural look took a lot of effort. Layers of powders, blending, outlining, and smudging. Lipstick came last, once my dress was safely over my head. I wrapped myself in my robe and went to get dressed.
    I walked back to my bedroom area and closed the curtain that gave me a semblance of privacy. Even though I’d locked the door to my apartment, I was well aware of the other people who worked in the shop, and had keys.
Better safe than sorry
was my motto about privacy. The living area had needed the most work when I decided to move in, mostly because it had been a hodgepodge of half-torn-down walls that had morphed a small apartment into a storage area that had been filling up ever since my grandfather had moved into the house Caroline still lived in. We’d taken down all of the walls and then used shelving and cabinets to divide up the space. I hung a curtain between the two cabinets that created the doorway into the bedroom area so that I could close it for privacy, but Bezel, my roommate, could move about freely.
    Bezel was the shop cat my grandfather had adopted last spring. She was a mixed breed, but looked and acted a lot like a Russian Blue. Her headbutts were a force. The only way to stop them from breaking my nose was to kiss her head as she moved in. She’d look at me with disgust, turn,and walk away. But she’d always look back, as if to wink, before she settled down on the nearest soft, flat surface. I could hear her purring from across the room.
    Even though I’d made the design choices upstairs, Bezel had been part of the plan. She needed windowsills, safe places for her food, privacy for her litter box, and plenty of space to roam. After a break-in last fall, I also needed to make sure I could lock us both in the apartment. That said, I recognized that living above your shop meant people would come in and out more often than usual, hence the curtain.
    I looked down at the black knit dress I’d laid out earlier, and sighed. Gray hair. I was always wearing gray cat hair. I took out the lint roller and did what I could to remove traces of Bezel. Caroline was terribly allergic to her, so de-Bezeling had become part of my routine. I put on my undergarments and pulled up my tights. Last step: I needed to get the dress on without ruining my hair or makeup. I unzipped the back and stepped into it, pulling it up carefully. Navigating it over my hips took a moment, but the give of the fabric worked with me. The dress was a simple shift with a sweetheart neckline. Flattering, but not too dressy. Bezel jumped up on the bed and blinked her eyes at me. I blinked back and she smiled.
    â€œWhat do you think?”
    â€œMeow,” she said.
    â€œThanks,” I said. I looked at myself in the mirror I’d hung up on the back of the wardrobe. Aside from at my grandfather’s funeral, I don’t think anyone in Orchard had seen me this dressed up. No wonder. I’d given it up the day my divorce papers had dried, leaving my faculty-wife costumes in my rearview mirror, along with my ex-husband.
    I futzed with my hair, pulling damp auburn spirals out of my bun to frame my face, and took a deep, shaky breath. I was nervous. But not only about the open house. As much as I hated to admit it, even to myself, I was nervous about seeing Ben while I was dressed up, and what his reaction would be. I wanted it to be positive. Not too positive. I wasn’t ready to start dating. But I was ready to start thinking about it, and Ben was an interesting prospect.
    I struggled to reach the back zipper. I should have paid more attention in yoga class—I couldn’t reach it.
    â€œBezel, can you help?”
    She sighed, and I joined her. This was the hard part about being single. No zipper help. A rare need, and one for which there surely had to be a modern work-around. There is a fortune to be made on personal