“That’s his right, Bobbie. You don’t tell Grayson everything you do, do you?”
I winced. “No. But since we’ve been sleeping together—”
“What?”
“Argh! I didn’t mean it like that—”
“You’re boinking Grayson?”
“No! We’re just ... uh ... sharing a bed.”
Beth-Ann laughed. “Sounds like boinking to me.”
“It’s not! Listen. Last time Earl came to visit he busted the couch, okay? I started bunking with Grayson until we can get a new sofa-bed. Anyway, I just thought by now that he’d, you know, be sharing more about himself with me.”
“Oh, no, Bobbie,” Beth-Ann said. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for the guy!”
I winced. “I’m not! But. I mean...would it be so bad if I was?”
“Girl, you’ve got one short memory. So let me remind you. You did the same thing with your last boss. Carl Blanders. Remember him? How’d that work out for you?”
A familiar pain shot through my head at the mention of my ex’s name. “It turned into a total crap show.”
“Exactly. Listen here, Bobbie. Grayson may be a ‘sexy detectsy,’ but he’s your boss, not your boyfriend. There is a difference, you know.”
I blew out a sigh. “Crap. You’re right, Beth-Ann.”
“Damned straight I’m right! Don’t screw it up with Grayson.” She paused for a moment. “Or, is it too late already?”
“No. It’s not too late.”
“Good.”
I chewed my lip and listed to Beth-Ann breathe. When she spoke again, her tone had softened a notch.
“I saw the big jerk the other day,” she said.
“Earl?” I asked.
Beth-Ann choked. “No! Carl Blanders.”
“Oh.”
“He and Candy Vincent broke up.”
A streak of sadistic pleasure melded with the throbbing pain in my head. “Boo hoo. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer couple.”
“Look, Bobbie. I know the jerk cheated on you with Candy. But give him some credit. At least he asked about you.”
I blanched. “You talked to him?”
“I had to. He came by my shop for a haircut. He’s been on some European antiques buying trip for the last six months. The dumbass thinks you’re still working at the auto shop with Earl. He didn’t have a clue that you’re actually off chasing monsters with the nutty professor.”
I cringed so hard I nearly cracked a molar. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”
“Hell, no! You know me. I’ve got your back. Besides, you made me promise not to, remember?”
I blew out a huge sigh of relief. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Suddenly, my face puckered with resentment. “So Carl took Candy to Paris, then forgot I existed. Geez, Beth-Ann. Are you telling me this to cheer me up?”
“Maybe,” Beth-Ann said. “Because there is a bright side to it.”
I scowled. “Really? I’m all ears.”
Beth-Ann giggled. “Just between you and me, I edged around Carl’s bald spot in the back. Thanks to me, he’s now sporting a hole in his ozone layer the size of a softball.”
Despite my best efforts, a smile cracked my lips. “You, Beth-Ann, are a true friend.”
She laughed. “And don’t you forget it. So, that’s all the news from Point Paradise. What are you and Grayson up to—besides being bunkmates? Working on some new, exciting case?”
I glanced down the hall to see if Grayson was still in the bathroom. The door was shut. “Uh ... nothing at the moment.”
“Well crap, girl. If you’re not busy, get Grayson to swing that old hunk of junk back here to Point Paradise.”
“Who you callin’ a hunk of junk?” I teased.
“I meant that old motorhome of his! Aw, come on, Bobbie. I’d love to see you. And if you come, I promise I’ll see what I can do with that crazy hair of yours.”
“Uh, considering what you just did to Carl, I think I should wait until I’m sure you’re not harboring any passive-aggressive feelings toward me.”
Beth-Ann burst out laughing. “Don’t worry. I reserve my ‘special trims’ for ‘special people.’ I’d never do that to you, girlfriend.”
“I know. But honestly, Beth-Ann. I don’t think my hair’s grown out enough for even you to work one of your miracles on it.”
“Let me be the judge of that. I can’t promise I can make it look fabulous, but I guarantee I can make it look intentional.”
I glanced in the mirror in the hallway and ran a hand through my spikey red locks. “At this point, anything would be an improvement. I barely look human.”
The bathroom door squeaked open. Grayson passed me in the hallway without a word.
Really? What a jerk!
“Good grief, Beth-Ann,” I grumbled into the phone. “Whether Grayson finds me attractive or not, the guy could at least acknowledge my existence, right?”
“You know the old saying,” she said. “‘If you can’t bring Mohamed to the mountain, bring the mountain to Mohamed.’ Or was it, ‘Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill?’”
“Ha ha,” I said sourly. “Thanks for all your sage advice, Beth-Ann. I can always count on you.”
Chapter Three
I slipped into the RV’s tiny bathroom, wiped the steam from the mirror, and examined my hair. If Beth-Ann had taught me anything, it was this: If your hair doesn’t look good, you don’t look good.
I, personally, looked as if I’d just survived a last date with Old Sparky.
Geez. No wonder Grayson doesn’t find me sexy.
I needed a Beth-Ann styling miracle, and I needed it bad. But how could I convince Grayson to take a detour to Point Paradise? Grayson was head of operations. To get my way, I was going to have to turn his head...
I plucked my eyebrows and applied pink lip gloss. With no other options coming to mind, I splashed water onto my hands and slicked my spikey auburn locks hair behind my ears. Forget Experiment #5 for the moment. I had to find out where I stood in the love department.
Is Grayson interested in me that way? Or am I just his doormat sidekick?
I padded to the main cabin. As usual, Grayson was snugged into the banquette, tapping away at his laptop.
I stood tall, cleared my throat, and went fishing for compliments. “Umm ... Grayson?”
He looked
