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“Two words to reinforce your decision to retire from the runway: pecan pie.” Natalie’s stomach rumbled as soon as she spoke the words.
“Excellent point,” Olivia said in mock seriousness. “And now I’m hungry again. I don’t suppose I could get either of you to overnight me a pie from The Kitchen Sink.”
“Forget it.” The realization that she’d skipped lunch made Natalie’s stomach fold in on itself in agony. “If I make it down to the diner today, I’m eating all the pecan pie Ruby Sue has myself.”
“So much for sisterly love.”
She rubbed her abdomen. “Exactly.”
“So Natalie,” Olivia said. “If the cops are a no–go, have you figured out a plan yet, or are you wearing the pearls down to nothing?”
Natalie clasped her hands in her lap and raised her chin.
“I’m going to figure out who did it.”
“That’s it? No flowchart? No sixty–six point plan?” Olivia teased.
“I’m not without street smarts,” Natalie shot back. The silence from her sisters that followed her pronouncement spoke volumes. “Anyway, Sean is helping.”
A plotting gleam lit Miranda’s eyes. “The, and I quote, ‘monosyllabic Neanderthal’, end quote, who is the most annoying man in the world?”
“Oh, I like him already,” Olivia said. “Tell me more.” Natalie could just imagine Olivia’s face taking on a devious shine at the mention of a boy. Some things never changed. “Is he cute?”
She locked her hands together so tightly that she nearly lost circulation in her right hand. “That’s not important.”
“Damn, I practically see the blush over the phone line,” Olivia teased. “He’s that hot, huh?”
“Oh shut up.” Natalie flipped the bird at the phone.
“Stop stirring up trouble.” Miranda stood up and walked to the door.
“Very funny.” Natalie toyed with her pearls. As if she could get any more stirred up than she already was. She straightened an already neat stack of folders on her desk.
Olivia let loose with a wolf whistle. “That all sounds like code for office nookie.”
Natalie’s hand slipped and she knocked one of the folders to the floor. The contents spilled out like a waterfall.
“No!” She rolled out her chair too fast and one wheel went off her plastic mat, lodging the chair in place. “We are simply meeting at his house.”
“That location is definitely more private,” Miranda said, amusement turning up her mouth.
Natalie shoved against her desk with more force than necessary, freeing her chair and rolling herself halfway across the office in the process. “We’re just talking business.”
“At his house,” Olivia teased.
“Yes.” Natalie got up from her chair and walked over to where the folder had fallen.
“At his house?” Miranda asked.
God, they were like the Greek chorus standing just offstage with no purpose other than to bust her chops and remind her of where her own thoughts had been drifting ever since Sean had proposed meeting.
“Yes.” She swept the papers back into the folder, not even bothering to ensure they were properly arranged, and shoved it back onto her desk.
“At his house.” This time her sisters said it together, as in sync as if they stood shoulder to shoulder instead of on opposite coasts.
Natalie inhaled a deep breath. “Repeating the location won’t change the fact that that it’s only a business meeting.” She yanked open her middle drawer and pulled a Tums bottle from her alphabetically arranged first–aid supplies.
“Uh–huh.” Miranda nodded her head in mock seriousness. “A, ahem, business meeting with the hot brewmaster at his house, after hours, alone. Yep, that totally sounds on the up and up. Maybe I should call Ruby Sue and see what she thinks?”
