Love on the Line - Deeanne Gist [109]
Unfolding herself from the couch, she rose as well. “Does SWT&T know who you are?”
“Only the chairman. Everyone else thinks I’m a troubleman, including our boss.”
She tilted her head. “Are you really going to try and sell phones or are you doing your, um, other work?”
He ran the back of his knuckles against her cheek. “Both. I’m always doing both.”
Twisting her face to the side, she gave his hand a peck. “You be careful, then.”
He slid his hand around the nape of her neck, and gently pulled her toward him. Defenses melting, she let him reel her in as surely as if she were one of his fish.
The kiss was slow, gentle, and devastating.
“If I don’t see you tomorrow,” he whispered, “I’ll see you on Tuesday.”
Chest pumping, body tingling, she could only nod.
He gave her one more quick, solid peck and then he was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Four
In between calls, Georgie pored over every scrap of information she had on Lucious Landrum. Unfortunately, he’d never been of interest to her before. Frank Comer had. So whatever she found about Lucious was because it had been mentioned as part of an article about Comer.
A sorry state of affairs, she thought, to have glorified the villain instead of the good guy. And not just her, but the entire state of Texas. How demoralizing for Luke and the other Rangers.
She paused on an article about a bank robbery the gang had committed. Lucious had been the Ranger called in to investigate. While in town, he’d walked down the street when a drunken saloon owner emptied a load of buckshot into someone simply because they rode by on a horse.
Lucious stormed into the saloon and came face-to-face with a double-barreled shotgun. Instead of lifting his hands and backing out, he approached the man and his gun head-on.
“You been having a bit of your own inventory, mister?” he’d asked.
His boldness stunned the bartender, allowing Lucious time to reach him. He shoved the barrel with one hand, collared him with the other, and hauled him to jail.
Georgie set the paper on her lap, trying to picture him doing such a thing. But all her memories—other than yesterday—were of him as a troubleman in overalls. Of course, there was the night of the break-in, but she didn’t like to think about that.
She continued scanning the papers, reading a snippet here and a snippet there. When put all together, they formed an impressive picture. A much more worthy subject for a pulp fiction novel than Frank Comer.
She thought of the injustice Mr. Ottfried had suffered. He might sell hats with bird parts on them, but according to Luke, he’d had nothing to do with the break-in. She wanted to exonerate him but couldn’t figure out how without revealing Luke’s identity. Still, she had to do something.
She glanced out the window. What if she went to his millinery and purchased a hat from him to show she’d let bygones be bygones? Yet she didn’t want the men who really did burn her hats to think she wasn’t upset. She was.
What if she encouraged the women of the Plumage League to purchase a hat from him? But then what would Mr. Mistrot say? Especially after he’d been so supportive from the very beginning.
“Hey, Miss Georgie.” Bettina pulled open the screen, letting it slam behind her. “Whatcha doin’?”
“You really mustn’t let the screen bang like that, Bettina. Try to use a little decorum, please.”
She scrunched up her nose. “What’s got you pullin’ at the bit?”
“Nothing. It’s just there are some things a lady doesn’t do.”
“But you always said a gal can do anything a feller can.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to emulate their bad habits. Only their good ones.” She folded her hands. “Did you find Kyle and tell him his mother wants him?”
“I found him. Don’t know if he went home, but I done told him.”
“That was all which was required. Thank you.”
The girl peered over Georgie’s shoulder. “You readin’ up on Frank, huh?”
“Things were kind of quiet, so I thought I’d thumb through