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Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
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Hellstrom. I understand you perfectly.”
“Good. Then I expect you to make sure Lauren is treated in a manner I like.”
“I can’t speak for Beth, Mrs. Hellstrom,” said Louvenia. “The two women do not get along.”
“Beth Janacek’s days were numbered when she slapped Lauren Fowler, Louvenia. I suggest you think
long and hard before you act in a similar manner!”
The phone line had gone dead with a thud.
“Whore!” Louvenia had growled at the phone, slamming the receiver down so hard her fingers tingled.
“Just because you’ve got money doesn’t mean you own me!”
Now, waiting for the Fowler girl to return to work after she had fired her, Louvenia snarled with
revenge. She hoped Beth would come in early so they could talk. Beth wasn’t going to like it one bit.
Not one bit! Between the two of them, they were sure to find a way to make Lauren Fowler wish she’d
never heard of the Composition Book Store.
The rain wascoming down in silver sheets of slanting fury by the time Lauren finished dressing for work.
She didn’t want to be late, especially today. One look at the gusting rain skittering across the street in
front of her house made Lauren wish she could afford to call a taxi. But even if she could have afforded
it, it wasn’t likely one of Horace McBride’s cabs was available on this side of town. Sighing, accepting
the fact that she was going to get soaked, Lauren pulled her umbrella from the can by the door and
unsnapped it. She stepped out onto her front porch just as thunder rumbled wickedly over the sky and
the wind pushed fine sprinkles of rain through the mesh of the screened porch.
Lightning zigzagged across the street behind the Atherton’s house and the sky turned pale for a moment.
The crack was loud and deadly sounding and it leant a cold dread to Lauren’s heart that she was going
to have to be out walking the two blocks under such a violent sky.
The blare of a horn made her look up. A black, low-slung car had pulled up to her curb, its wipers
sweeping furiously across the windshield. Its headlights slashed out into the dark morning, gilding the rain
before it in twin beams. The car’s windows were darkly tinted so she couldn’t see inside, but there was a
faint glow as the driver’s door opened. A figure, hunched over under the heavy onslaught of the rain,
skirted the back of the car and ran toward her house. It wasn’t until his wet foot falls slapped against her
sidewalk that Lauren recognized Syntian Cree.
“What on Earth are you doing?” she called out to him as he reached up a wet hand to pull open the
outside screen door of her porch.
He was shivering, his lips trembling, stray wisps of his hair that had come undone from the band at the
nape of his neck plastered against his left cheek. His thick lashes were spiked with fat rain droplets.
“Your carriage awaits, my lady!” He laughed, reaching up to wipe the rain from his face. He sniffed,
blinking away the raindrops. “May I carry you out to the car?”
“You most certainly may not!” she said, shocked. She stared at him, mouth open. At his unabashed, little
boy grin, she snapped her mouth shut and tried to glare at him. “You are—”
He held up a wet hand. “I know. Incorrigible. A character fault, I fear.”
She shrugged, giving in to his charm. “I appreciate this. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“I’ll find a way.” He grinned, wagging his thick brows. He pulled open the door for her. “Ready?”
She looked at him, really liking what she saw. For one moment, as their eyes met and his gentle smile
was just for her, she thought maybe things were going to be all right after all.
Louvenia ploppedinto the chair in her office and picked up the telephone once more. It was 9:23 a.m.
and Beth was still not at the store. Any moment now that Fowler tramp would be coming through the
front door and Louvenia was not prepared to be the only one in the store when she did.
“Good. Then I expect you to make sure Lauren is treated in a manner I like.”
“I can’t speak for Beth, Mrs. Hellstrom,” said Louvenia. “The two women do not get along.”
“Beth Janacek’s days were numbered when she slapped Lauren Fowler, Louvenia. I suggest you think
long and hard before you act in a similar manner!”
The phone line had gone dead with a thud.
“Whore!” Louvenia had growled at the phone, slamming the receiver down so hard her fingers tingled.
“Just because you’ve got money doesn’t mean you own me!”
Now, waiting for the Fowler girl to return to work after she had fired her, Louvenia snarled with
revenge. She hoped Beth would come in early so they could talk. Beth wasn’t going to like it one bit.
Not one bit! Between the two of them, they were sure to find a way to make Lauren Fowler wish she’d
never heard of the Composition Book Store.
The rain wascoming down in silver sheets of slanting fury by the time Lauren finished dressing for work.
She didn’t want to be late, especially today. One look at the gusting rain skittering across the street in
front of her house made Lauren wish she could afford to call a taxi. But even if she could have afforded
it, it wasn’t likely one of Horace McBride’s cabs was available on this side of town. Sighing, accepting
the fact that she was going to get soaked, Lauren pulled her umbrella from the can by the door and
unsnapped it. She stepped out onto her front porch just as thunder rumbled wickedly over the sky and
the wind pushed fine sprinkles of rain through the mesh of the screened porch.
Lightning zigzagged across the street behind the Atherton’s house and the sky turned pale for a moment.
The crack was loud and deadly sounding and it leant a cold dread to Lauren’s heart that she was going
to have to be out walking the two blocks under such a violent sky.
The blare of a horn made her look up. A black, low-slung car had pulled up to her curb, its wipers
sweeping furiously across the windshield. Its headlights slashed out into the dark morning, gilding the rain
before it in twin beams. The car’s windows were darkly tinted so she couldn’t see inside, but there was a
faint glow as the driver’s door opened. A figure, hunched over under the heavy onslaught of the rain,
skirted the back of the car and ran toward her house. It wasn’t until his wet foot falls slapped against her
sidewalk that Lauren recognized Syntian Cree.
“What on Earth are you doing?” she called out to him as he reached up a wet hand to pull open the
outside screen door of her porch.
He was shivering, his lips trembling, stray wisps of his hair that had come undone from the band at the
nape of his neck plastered against his left cheek. His thick lashes were spiked with fat rain droplets.
“Your carriage awaits, my lady!” He laughed, reaching up to wipe the rain from his face. He sniffed,
blinking away the raindrops. “May I carry you out to the car?”
“You most certainly may not!” she said, shocked. She stared at him, mouth open. At his unabashed, little
boy grin, she snapped her mouth shut and tried to glare at him. “You are—”
He held up a wet hand. “I know. Incorrigible. A character fault, I fear.”
She shrugged, giving in to his charm. “I appreciate this. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“I’ll find a way.” He grinned, wagging his thick brows. He pulled open the door for her. “Ready?”
She looked at him, really liking what she saw. For one moment, as their eyes met and his gentle smile
was just for her, she thought maybe things were going to be all right after all.
Louvenia ploppedinto the chair in her office and picked up the telephone once more. It was 9:23 a.m.
and Beth was still not at the store. Any moment now that Fowler tramp would be coming through the
front door and Louvenia was not prepared to be the only one in the store when she did.
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