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Chapter 1
An impeccably dressed man stood across the glass countertop that separated Tiffany Gentry from her customers. Before she could offer him help, the gentleman interrupted.
“I’ve got to say you’re so gorgeous your beauty is hurting my eyes.”
That’s the best he’s got? Tiffany plastered a smile of thanks on her face when she wanted to smirk. The corny come-on lines were getting tiresome, but he was her customer, and a sale was a sale.
“Then perhaps I should step away while you pick out a necklace? I wouldn’t want to eclipse it with my beauty.”
He laughed loudly before looking at her again. “I love women with spunk. I doubt I’ll find anything as delightful as you, but I’ll try.”
The front door chimed, interrupting their conversation, for which Tiffany was grateful.
“Welcome to the Petite Boutique, I’ll be with you in a moment,” she said without looking up.
Her attention was still on the undecided flirt. Now he was leaning so far over the display case that his breath steamed up the glass.
The man sighed aloud. “Yes indeed, with so many choices, I can’t decide.”
Tiffany glanced toward the front of the store. She spotted a tall man looking at a display. Excusing herself, she walked over to him.
“Good morning, are you looking for something specific?”
“Yes,” he said, turning around to face her. “The owner.”
Tiffany stared at him. He was much taller up close, well built and had just done a marvelous job of rendering her speechless. She stood there staring so long that he finally said, “Do you know where I can find her?”
“Oh,” she croaked, extending her hand. “I’m me…that would be me…Tiffany Gentry. How can I help you?”
“I’m here to help you,” he replied, closing his fingers around hers in a firm shake.
There were a number of possibilities that
sprang to mind on how he could help. The first was to help her up after she collapsed in a pool of hormones on her polished wooden floor.
“I’m sorry. I guess I should introduce myself. Colonel Ivan Mangum,” he said with a slight smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Colonel,” she replied warmly. Her skin tingled at the contact. She loved men with solid handshakes—no spaghetti hands. To Tiffany, firm grips exuded confidence and strength. “You know, when I called a few days ago, I had no idea you’d be able to give me an evaluation this fast.”
“Ms. Jeannie stressed that you needed something in place right away.”
“Sooner rather than later would be best. I’ve got to say, Ms. Jeannie thinks highly of you. She wouldn’t take no for an answer and practically hovered over me while I dialed your number.”
A rumble of laughter escaped his lips. “I understand, and yes, Ms. Jeannie can be persuasive.”
Relief swept over her face. “She can indeed.”
When Norma Jean Anderson, Tiffany’s friend Milán’s motherin-law, had mentioned she knew someone who could help, Tiffany agreed that her safety and that of the store should be her priority.
Norma Jean had told her about a man who used to be in the army, owned his own business and had installed the security system at the senior center where she taught fitness classes. Now here he was, walking around inspecting her boutique with a practiced eye. Tiffany couldn’t help but feel protective of her shop while it was raked over by his penetrating stare.
“This is an eclectic store.”
“Isn’t it?” Tiffany said. “There’s something for everyone. Most items are one of a kind. We carry jewelry that I make myself, and I’ve got some artisan friends whose work I showcase, too. They make T-shirts, soaps, lotions and even pottery.”
Ivan looked around again appreciatively. “How many rooms do you have?”
“I’ve got the main area here, a storage room and bathroom. There’s an exit from the storage room. That’s where I receive larger deliveries.”
He nodded and typed some notes on his laptop. “When I first spoke to Ms. Jeannie, she told me that you’d had a breakin a few weeks ago?”
“It wasn’t exactly a breakin. More like an overzealous customer who wouldn’t leave. I didn’t hear him come in.”
