LITMIR.BIZ

      TWO

      Mr. Jefferson waved his hand and passed Colt quickly in the hall. “I’ll let Miss St. James tell you.”

      Ellie balled her hands at her sides. What was she supposed to tell Colt? Even worse, had he overheard anything they had been talking about? She started forward. “I’d better go and change for work.”

      He gripped her arm, halting her escape. “What aren’t you telling me? Why were you and Harold talking in here?”

      She schooled her expression into one of innocence. She would love to get her hands on Mr. Jefferson for putting her in this situation. “He wanted to know how my first week went with Winnie. Is there a reason we shouldn’t talk? After all, he hired me.”

      “And how are you doing?” He stepped nearer until Ellie got a whiff of his coffee-laced breath. “Does he know about the gun?”

      “Yes. I saw no reason not to tell him.” Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. She moved back a few inches until her back encountered the wall behind her. “Your grandmother and I are getting along well. She’s a special lady. Very talented. She’s easy to talk to. To work for.”

      “Winnie?”

      Hating the trapped feeling, she sidled away. “Who else are we talking about?”

      “My grandmother is a private woman. She doesn’t share much with anyone.”

      “I haven’t found her that way. Maybe something has changed, since you’ve been gone for so long.” There, she hoped that would keep Colt quiet and less curious about her relationship with Winnie. In some of her past jobs, she’d had to play a role, but it never was her favorite way to operate.

      “Then maybe you can fill me in on what’s going on with my grandmother.”

      “What we’ve talked about is private. If you want to know, go ask her.” Before he could stop her again, she pivoted away and hurried down the hall to the foyer.

      As she mounted the stairs to the second floor, she felt his eyes on her. It was so cold it reminded her of the icy mountain stream they’d passed on their walk today. Unable to shake loose of his frosty blue gaze, she felt the chill down to her bones.

      * * *

      After dinner that evening Ellie followed the small group to the den, a room with a roaring fire going in the fireplace and the dark rich wood of the mantel polished to a gleaming luster that reflected the lights. She sat on the plush, tan couch before a large glass-topped coffee table. In the middle an arrangement of sweet-smelling roses vied with the fireplace for attention. She’d quickly learned Bloomfield Flower Shop in the medium-size town at the foot of the mountain delivered a fresh bouquet twice weekly because Winnie loved looking at them in the evening. Their delicate aroma wafted up to Ellie and surrounded her in their fragrance. Since working for Winnie, she’d become attuned to the smell of things. Like breakfast in the morning or a fresh winter day with pine heavy in the air when they were power walking. Winnie always pointed out scents wherever she went.

      Colt took a forest-green wingback chair across from her. She caught his glance lingering on her for a few extra seconds while the others settled into their seats. She pulled her gaze away to finish assessing the placement of everyone, along with all the exits. Harold took the other end of the couch she sat on while Winnie eased down between them. Christy Boland, the face of the new line, and her fiancé, Peter Tyler, a Bakersville dentist, occupied the love seat.

      “I can’t imagine living on a research vessel for months on end,” Christy said, taking up the conversation started at the dinner table.

      “I have to admit it does take getting used to. It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. I don’t even have a place of my own right now.”

      “You don’t need one. You’re always welcome here when you’re in the country,” Winnie told her grandson. “After all, you’ve done so much to help me with my new line, especially this last product, which will be the coup d’état.”

      “How so, Winnie? I don’t remember doing that.”

      “Your research on certain sea life sparked a breakthrough for me on this project.”

      Colt tilted his head to the side. “Which one?”

      Winnie smiled. “I’m not telling. Right now I’m the only one who knows. It’s all up here.” She tapped the side of her temple. “But this will keep you busy for years, Christy. Harold isn’t going to be able to count the money fast enough.” Her grin grew. “At least that’s what I predict. And all my predictions have been right in the past.” She sat back and motioned the servers to bring in dessert.

      Linda and Doug Miller, the middle-aged couple who lived on the property and took care of the house, carried in two trays, one with coffee and the other with finger sweets. Doug placed the coffee down in front of Winnie while his wife served the petite desserts to each person in the room.

      “I will say I miss your cooking, Linda. No one on the vessel can cook like you.” Colt selected four different sweets and put them on a small plate.

      By the time the caretakers retreated to the kitchen ten minutes later, everyone had a cup of coffee and dessert.

      Colt raised his cup in a toast. “To Christy. Congratulations again on becoming the face of Endless Youth. This is a big change for you from being Winnie’s

      assistant to touring the country, your photo plastered everywhere.”

      “Yes. I haven’t traveled like you have or Winnie. About as far as I’ve gone was Texas and California when Winnie did.”

      “That will definitely change, dear,” Winnie said after taking a sip of her coffee. “I’m thrilled you agreed to do this. When you tested the product and it did such wonders for you, it became obvious you were perfect for this new job.” She slid a glance toward Harold. “Thankfully, Harold found a new assistant for me who is working out great.”

      All eyes turned to Ellie. Never wanting to be the focus of attention, she pressed herself into the couch until she felt the Glock in its holster digging into her back. Harold had brought the gun when he’d returned for dinner. Having it holstered under her jacket was a constant reminder she was on a job. “I appreciate you helping me, Christy. Answering my hundreds of questions.”

      Christy laughed. “I wish I had someone to answer my hundreds of questions. I’ve never been a model and don’t know one. Poor Peter has to listen to all my questions.”

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