Page 17 of Afternoon Delight
“I was hoping Georgia had returned.” His voice was deep and smooth. Soothing.
“She’s still off sick. I’m her friend, Meg. I’m covering the store until she’s back.” I stepped forward and offered my hand.
He shook it. “Negasi.”
“This is my mom, Vickie. She’s compensating for my lack of artistic flair.”
“You’re not her sister?” He shook Mom’s hand, too.
“Oh.” Mom fell for the compliment and flushed with pleasure. “I wasn’t that young when I had her. And I’m sorry to run off, but I’ve been put in charge of swag bags for the re-launch. I hope you’ll come. Meg will fill you in.”
“You had me at swag bags. Nice to meet you, Vickie.”
Mom left, and he turned back to me. He was really good-looking, with that bored, half-lidded gaze that oozed sexy indifference. I wondered how well he knew Georgia.
“When is the re-launch?” he asked.
“This is why I’ve asked Mom to help. She’s shameless,” I said wryly. “I’m still planning. Maybe a week or so? I guess we’ll have snacks and raffle off a gift basket or something. I could take your email and send the details once it’s finalized?”
“Do that. I’ll tell everyone at work.”
“Thanks.” I picked up the tablet. “Where do you work?”
“Right now? Dinner theatre in the old church on Clover. It’s usually plays and musicals, but they brought in our drag production for the spring run. It’s called Pretty Please.” He underlined his jaw with flat hands, tilted his head flirtatiously, and fluttered his lashes.
“Fun. Where are you from?”
“L.A. That’s how I know Georgia. We’ve worked together at different times. She told us they were looking for something. That’s how we got the gig.”
“Did you two sing together? She has a great voice.”
“She really does.”
“I’m excited for your show. Mom’s birthday is coming up. Is the food good?”
“It is, actually.” He nodded.
“Perfect. Email?”
“Negasi Jackson...” He spelled it.
“Got it. I’ll text Georgia you stopped by. Did you want to leave a message?”
“No. She was going to help me with something once she felt better. I saw the shop was open and figured she’d come in.”
“Soon, I hope.”
“Me too. See you at the show.” He winked and left.
I texted Georgia to say he’d dropped by. Then, since the store was quiet, I stuck a note on the door explaining I was visiting Twice Is Nice and slipped across.
The bell jangled. An older man with white hair and an argyle vest greeted me with a beaming smile. His blue eyes and offset grin were exactly like Zak’s—still handsome, but more weathered and crinkly around the edges.
“You came back for the medicine chest! I knew you would. I saved it for you. The one with the glass door, right? Or was it the mirrored one?”
“Um, no.” Oh, shit. Georgia had told me how to handle Dale if he came into her store acting confused, but not the other way around.
“The wardrobe?” he asked with a small frown. “It’s here. Let me show you.”
