Foul Play

had just gotten picked up in the supermarket. She took a deep breath and told herself to stay calm. It wasn’t really a pickup. More like a rescue. And he had excellent recommendations from the checkout ladies.

Still, there was something unsettling about him. His appearance shouted laid-back slob, even though his eyes crackled with energy. He was just the sort of man she’d diligently ignored: devilishly attractive and impossible to categorize. He was the sort of man who’d certainly complicate a woman’s life. And her life was complicated enough, she thought. “Definitely!”

Jake looked at her from the corner of his eye. “You’re not going to break anything, are you?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Hmmm.” It was the sort of snorting sound you might expect a bull to make before charging.

“I probably shouldn’t ask such a delicate question, but who are you talking to, and why the devil are you so mad?”

“Myself, and because I’ve been replaced by a chicken. A seven-pound Rhode Island Red that can cluck ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ and count with its stupid chicken toes.”

“I don’t think chickens have toes.”

“Ha!” Amy said. “A lot you know.”

It had been several years since Penn State veterinary school, but Jake was almost certain chickens didn’t have toes. Probably not the best time to press the issue, he decided.

The engine finally caught and three loud volleys exploded from the tailpipe. Amy had never been in a car that backfired. She had always equated such mechanical indignities with human intestinal problems. She slunk into her seat, praying not to be recognized. Life could only get better. This had to be the bottom, didn’t it?

Jake exhaled a long sigh of contentment. Everything was working perfectly. Life couldn’t get any better. “Where to, my lady?”

“King’s Park West. Wheatstone Drive.”

The car chugged out of the parking lot and headed west. “About this chicken…”

“I’d like to feed it to my cat.”

“Not many people are replaced by a chicken.”

“Yeah. Lucky me.”

“Just exactly what sort of job did you have?”

“Lulu the Clown. I hosted a daytime television show for preschoolers on one of the local stations. I sang a little and danced a little and told stories.”

“I’ve seen that show. My nephew loves it.” Lulu the Clown. Jake got an instant image of the lively young female clown with a bush of curly red hair and long slender legs clad in red-and-white striped stockings. He remembered her as being sensational, with an obvious affection for her Munchkin audience.

Spot slung his massive head over the back of the front seat and rested his jaw on Amy’s shoulder. Amy unconsciously scratched the dog between the ears. “After college I tried teaching first grade, but my principal thought my methods were… unorthodox.”

“Let me guess. Lulu?”

Amy grinned. “Sometimes. Sometimes I’d be Katy Kitten or a medieval princess, or Annie Oakley. I just wanted to make things more interesting. More entertaining. Time can pass very slowly for a seven-year-old who’s away from his mom six hours a day.”

Jake wanted to punch out that principal. In fact, Jake was ready to punch out anyone who didn’t appreciate Amy.

Good Lord, he silently groaned, how could he be so besotted by someone he’d only known for ten minutes? He made a conscious effort to relax, loosening his white-knuckled grip on the wheel, easing the tension at the base of his neck.

There had been strong feelings for a few other women in his life, but nothing like this. Nothing that hit him so fast and so hard. This was scary. Four hours ago he was in surgery, happily operating on Tommy Hostrup’s cat. Four hours ago he’d been contented, well adjusted, a respected member of the community… and now he was sweating bullets because he was afraid he was going to attack the delicious little morsel sitting next to him. If she knew what he was thinking she’d probably jump out the window.

Amy indicated that he should take a right-hand turn, and continued. “Anyway, when the school year came to a close I decided maybe I wasn’t destined to teach first grade. I loved working with children, but I needed something with more personal freedom… more action. The idea for a TV show came to me in the middle of the night. I woke up in a sweat, thinking, holy cow, wouldn’t it be great to entertain hundreds of kids at a time instead of just twenty-five! So, the next day I got dressed up in my clown suit and marched into the studio.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “I still don’t believe I had the nerve to do that! I read The Little Engine That Could to the station manager. He sat there the whole time, smoking a cigar and looking at me as if I was from outer space. I was into the second round of singing ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ when Gilda Szalagy, the Morning Cooker, walked in and announced she was leaving to take a job in Atlanta. They gave me her slot on a trial basis, and I’ve been Lulu the Clown ever since… until four o’clock today.”

“Didn’t you have a contract?”

She shook her head. “Nope. It’s a mom-and-pop-type station. We just went day by day. It was always very low key. Very pleasant.”

“Did they say why they were replacing you?”

“Two weeks ago Sam, the station manager, retired. The new station manager said the show needed a fresh face.”

“Yeah, but a fresh beak? Hard to believe a chicken could entertain kids for a whole hour.”

“The chicken comes with a trainer. I suppose she’ll read the stories and sing the songs.”

“And the chicken will do the dancing?”

Amy grinned. “Listen, I’ve seen the chicken dance-it’s pretty good.”

“I bet its legs aren’t nearly as nice as yours.”

“Thank you.” It was a funny little compliment, but it made her feel better. Now that the anger was subsiding she was left with an empty sadness. It had been the injustice and the suddenness of the action that had stung her heart. She’d worked hard to entertain and educate her young audience. She felt a responsibility to those children. What would they think when she simply didn’t appear tomorrow? How would they know that she loved them… that she hadn’t willy-nilly abandoned them?

That rotten new manager hadn’t even given her a chance to say good-bye. She couldn’t believe he’d even been hired. Who needed to have the highest ratings on the air? Amy thought they’d been doing just fine. She felt a tear catch in her lower lashes. “Damn.”

Jake covered her hand with his. “It’s okay.”

“I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. I asked them for one more day. Just one more day, and they said no.”

He didn’t know how to comfort her. He saw the brightness in her eyes and was scared to death that she was about to burst into tears. He waited a moment. “So now what?”

“I don’t know.”

She had rent to pay, car payments, utility bills. Thank goodness, she had a savings account, but that wouldn’t last forever.

“If I could find a temporary job to get me through the summer, I could go back to teaching school in September,” she said.

Jake didn’t even hesitate. “You’re in luck. I could give you a job. I happen to need a receptionist.” He needed a receptionist like a hole in the head, but he’d do anything to be near her. He quickly reviewed his budget and determined he’d be able to pay her a modest salary. The awkward part would be finding work for her in the small, two-man office.

Work for Jacob Elliott? Amy’s heart flopped in her chest and her stomach contracted into a knot of anxiety. What an odd reaction, she thought. Why was she so panic-stricken at the thought of working for Jacob Elliott? Because Jacob Elliott was the most incredible male she’d ever met, and there were a whole bunch of warm, tingling sensations occurring in private places throughout her body. If she could tingle like this when she was depressed, what would happen in a day or two when she became her usual cheery self? Those tingles were going to get her into a mess of trouble if she wasn’t careful.