Read Online The Lottery Winner by Emilie Rose - Free Book Online Page B

teeth.”
    â€œI’ll bring over more place mats if you run out.” Filled with satisfaction for the first time since her exile, Jessie looked up and caught the woman’s grateful smile, then the PI’s speculative gaze.
    Nerves twisted her stomach. That was twice today that she’d unintentionally revealed something that could blow her cover, but her love of art—specifically, sharing it with children—was hard to suppress. She had to be more careful.
    * * *
    J ESSIE GLANCED IN the rearview mirror and caught sight of the picture of the Key deer in the backseat of her rental car Friday morning. Another wave of guilt swamped her.
    She’d started her morning with lying to her brother, and there was no way she could feel good about that. When he’d asked her plans for the day, she’d evaded the truth by telling him she was looking forward to painting No Name Key rather than confessing her excitement over displaying her first picture in public. It wasn’t a complete lie. She was eager to paint the island across the waterway and maybe even visit it to explore. But not today. Or tomorrow. Or even Sunday.
    She worried during the entire drive south about displaying her work in such a public setting. It would be the first momentous occasion of her life that her family hadn’t been a part of, and if it blew up in her face, she’d have no one but herself to blame.
    Her anxiety crested when the restaurant came into view. With any luck Logan would be at an office somewhere and not lurking at the Widow. The man had to work sometime, didn’t he? Heart in her throat, she turned into the small parking lot and parked beside Miri’s truck. After scanning the area, she extricated the canvas and headed for the building. So far, so good. No Logan.
    As promised, Miri had left the side door unlocked for her. The dining room was empty, but Jessie heard the hum of conversation and the clank of pots in the kitchen. The wall behind the register was empty save a brass hanger protruding from the whitewashed bead board. She hefted the frame and positioned it over the hook. Then she stepped back to study the largest painting she’d done to date. The splash of colors looked good. Pride and excitement bubbled inside her. She ached to snap a picture, send it to her family and share the moment.
    The canvas tilted slightly to the left. She reached to adjust it. A long arm stretched past her, and a big hand covered hers. Her heart lurched with panic. She ducked away and spun around, slamming her left elbow against the hostess stand. Pain shot to her fingertips. But it was only Logan, not some nameless assailant sneaking up on her. Darn her brother and his daily dire tales.
    â€œYou nearly scared me to death. Don’t you have a job you should be at?” How had he gotten so close without her hearing him? She cursed the sudden dryness of her mouth and wiggled her tingling digits. Hitting your funny bone was not at all funny.
    One dark eyebrow dipped. “I set my own hours. Why are you so jumpy, Jessie?”
    â€œI don’t like people sneaking up on me.” He was too close. The space behind the stand wasn’t built for two—one of whom was a broad-shouldered man whose subtle citrus and spice cologne filled her nostrils, making it difficult to breathe. She needed to escape, but he blocked her path.
    â€œI didn’t sneak. I walked from over there.” He pointed to a two-top tucked in a shadowy corner by the bar—not his usual spot at the bar. An open folder, an empty plate and a glass confirmed his statement. “Are you always this nervous?”
    Only since winning that stupid lottery. “I’m anxious about displaying my work.” She stifled a wince at yet another half truth. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to move my car from the parking lot.”
    She wanted to leave before she had to tell more lies.
    â€œIt’s fine beside