Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(57)

“It’s hard to believe you never noticed that chest until now.”

“You didn’t notice, either.”

“I haven’t worked with her nearly every day of my life for the past eight years.”

Ethan’s frustration boiled over. “It’s a good thing she quit because otherwise I’d have had to fire her. How could I have my church secretary behaving like that?”

Gabe spoke mildly. “She doesn’t dress much different from Laura Delapino or Amy Majors, and you seem to admire them.”

“They’re not Kristy, and I don’t know why you’re being so stupid about this. She was fine until the Widow Snopes moved in with her. It’s obvious that corrupting Kristy is just one more part of Rachel’s plan to upset this town.”


“You think she has a plan? ”

Ethan shrugged.

Gabe’s voice dropped. “You listen to me, Eth. It’s taking every resource Rachel has just to keep her head above water. She’s been shunned, her tires have been slashed, Annie’s cottage vandalized. Don’t talk to me about her plan to upset this town.”

He was right, but Ethan’s flash of guilt disappeared as he watched Andy tilt his beer mug to Kristy’s lips. He shot to his feet. “That’s it! I’m getting her out of here.”

From across the bar, Kristy watched Ethan storm toward her. He’d ironed his T-shirt again, she noticed. It was very old, vintage Grateful Dead, but one of his favorites, and he took good care of it.

Ethan’s clothes were always neat. He’d even pressed his perfectly faded jeans. His blond hair was well-cut and combed into place, his eyes liquid blue. Once his mother told Kristy the Bonner family had a great, unspoken secret. Although no one ever said it aloud, they all loved Ethan the best.

Well, not Kristy. She didn’t love him the best. He’d betrayed her, and now she was immune to that Gospel-preaching, God-speaking rat.

“Kristy, I’d like to talk to you.”

“Shoot,” she managed, just as sassy as anything Rachel would have come up with. For good measure, she added a head toss that sent her little feathers flying.

She wouldn’t let him see how crushed she’d been by his attitude Tuesday morning. Afterward, she’d rushed back to the cottage and gathered up all her new clothes to throw them out. But then the sight of her reflection in the old cherry mirror over the dresser had stopped her.

As she’d gazed at herself, she finally understood what Rachel had been trying to tell her from the beginning. If she were going to do this, she had to do it for herself, not so she could catch a stuffy glamour boy of a preacher with the emotional maturity of a sixteen-year-old. That was when she’d decided she owed it to herself to give her new image a fair test trial and see how she liked it.

“I want to speak with you in private.”

He wanted to lecture her. Without thinking, she picked up a napkin and began dabbing at water rings. It had taken all her courage to come in here alone tonight, and she wasn’t up to being yelled at. She shook her head.

His voice grew harder. “Now, Kristy.”

“No.”

“Fuck off, *.”

Andy’s roommate had spoken, and Kristy stared at him, shocked. Nobody talked to Ethan like that. And then she remembered that Jason was from Charlotte and didn’t know who Ethan was.

Andy punched his friend in the arm. “Uh—sorry about that, Pastor Ethan. Jason’s not from around here.”

Ethan gave them both a stare that threatened eternal damnation, then turned his Elmer Gantry eyes back on her. “Kristina, come with me immediately.”

The jukebox launched into “You Don’t Own Me.”

Kristy’s stomach curled with nervousness. She gathered up a crumpled cocktail napkin, cellophane from a package of cigarettes, and moved the beer pitcher closer to the center of the table so everyone could reach it more easily.

He leaned over and spoke so softly only she could hear. “If you don’t do as I say, I’m going to pick you up and I carry you out of here.”

He didn’t look like Pastor Ethan, everybody’s friend, and belatedly Kristy remembered that he had a temper. He didn’t display it often, and he was always remorseful afterward, but this wasn’t afterward, this was now, and she decided not to take any chances.

Rising with as much dignity as she could muster, she nodded. “Very well. I suppose I can spare you a few minutes.”

Ethan was not gracious in victory. “Darned right you can.”

He took her arm in a firm grasp, but as she stepped forward, she found her nervousness easing. A fuzzy pink cloud had settled over her, bringing with it a feeling of well-being. She wasn’t used to drinking, and although she’d barely finished two beers, she realized it had been enough to make her a bit giddy. It felt wonderful, and she decided that Ethan could preach at her all he wanted, and it wouldn’t bother her one bit.

Ethan led her toward his car. As they approached, he used his free hand—the one that wasn’t fastened to her arm—to pat the left pocket of his jeans. Not finding what he wanted, he tried the opposite one, then reached around to explore the back pockets.

He’d forgotten his keys again. They were undoubtedly lying on the table inside, which was why she always kept a spare set in her purse.