Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(56)

“You don’t like my lipstick,” she said flatly.

“I didn’t say that. It’s not my place to like it or not. I just think for a church office . . .”

Rachel would never put up with this. Not in a million years. And neither would she.

“If you don’t like it, you can fire me.”

He seemed genuinely shocked. “Kristy!”

She had to get out of here before she started to cry.

“Now there’s no need to get upset.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sure once you have a chance to think this over . . .”

“I have, and I quit!”

She dashed from the office, feathers flying, then snatched up her purse and ran outside to her car where she promptly collapsed against the steering wheel and burst into tears. Had she really expected him to fall in love with her just because she’d cantilevered her breasts? She was still the same dull, pathetic woman who’d lived most of her life mooning over a man who would never in a million years moon back. Except now she was jobless, too.

Through her tears, she saw the back door fly open and Ethan come running out. She couldn’t let him see her like this, a pathetic loser crying over her miserable life. She snatched her keys from her purse and shoved them in the ignition.

“Kristy!”

The engine roared to life. He ran toward her. She shot out of her parking space.

He rushed to the side of her car. “Stop it, Kristy! You’re overreacting! Let’s talk about this.”


That was when she did the unthinkable. She rolled down the window, thrust out her hand, and gave Reverend Ethan Bonner the bird.



Two days had passed since Kristy had shown up at the church dressed like an upper-crust hooker, and Ethan still hadn’t gotten over the shock. “Look at the way she’s carrying on!” His glare took in the Mountaineer’s postage-stamp dance floor, where Kristy Brown was dancing with Andy Miels, who was nearly ten years her junior.

Her movements were a little self-conscious, but no one sitting at the bar’s rustic pine tables seemed to notice.

Kristy had shown up at the Mountaineer in a tight black skirt that ended at mid-thigh and a clinging, deeply cut melon-colored top displaying a full set of breasts that no one had ever suspected she possessed. She’d accessorized the outfit with a glittery black-and-gold Y-necklace, the tip of which nestled at the top of her cleavage. Her fake diamond studs sparkled through the wisps of dark-brown hair that fluttered around her face as she danced.

Until Kristy had walked in, Ethan had been eating a hamburger and trying to extract information from Gabe about his relationship with the black widow. Last week when Ethan had caught Rachel trying to steal the chest that held Jane’s computer disks, he’d wondered if his brother and Rachel might have something more going on than a work relationship. The possibility scared him to death. By now, Rachel had to know that Gabe was wealthy. He’d always been careless about finances, and she was the worst sort of opportunist. Every time she looked at him, she had to see a walking, talking cash machine.

But his probing into Gabe’s private life had come to an abrupt end when Kristy arrived. “She came in here alone! ” Ethan exclaimed. “She didn’t even have the decency to bring a girlfriend.” He glared at Kristy’s dancing partner. “And I swear, Gabe, she used to baby-sit Andy Miels!”

“Doesn’t look like either of them is thinking about that now,” Gabe said.

Kristy was no stranger to the Mountaineer. Since the county was dry, local residents paid a minimal membership fee to belong to private “bottle clubs.” The Mountaineer also had a small restaurant toward the front that offered the best food in town and a lively bar in the back that frequently served as the town meeting place.

The Mountaineer was entirely respectable, and, over the years, Kristy had lunched here often and shared dinner in the quaint dining room with family or friends, but no one had ever seen her like this. Alone. In the bar. At night. And dressed like this.

Ethan could barely contain himself. “Do you know what she did Tuesday in the parking lot after she ran out on me? She gave me the old one-finger salute. Kristy Brown!”

“I believe you’ve already mentioned that,” Gabe said. “Three times.”

“She’s moving into her condo this weekend. Don’t you think that someone who’s probably spent the day packing up boxes should be too tired to party?”

“She doesn’t look real tired.”

Kristy laughed at something Andy said and let him lead her back to the table he was sharing with a couple of his college buddies, who’d come to visit. They looked like a bunch of slackers to Ethan. Caps turned backward, earrings, scraggly goatees stuck to their chins like fraying Brillo pads.

Well-built slackers, though. Andy played football for North Carolina State, and the size of the others at the table made Ethan suspect they were his teammates.

“This is all Rachel Snopes’s doing.”

Gabe’s fingers tightened around his glass of club soda. “Her name is Stone. Rachel Stone.”

“She’s turned Kristy into a—a slut.”

“Watch it, Eth.”

“Her clothes are so tight it’s a wonder she can move. But she’s moving all right. Look at that.” Kristy had just propped her arms on the table and leaned forward to hear something one of the football players was saying. “She’s—she’s sticking herself right in their faces!”