The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two) (40 page)

“Is that what you want—disability checks for the rest of your life while you hide out in your mom’s mobile home? That doesn’t sound like the Corinna Lynn Marcel I’ve known since we were four.”

“That girl is gone.”

Brenda reached out and touched her forearm. Cory jerked away.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Her friend set her hands in her lap. “Wesley is working at a custom furniture company in Perfect. The owner is a veteran.”

“Oh.” Her mind was only half-engaged. The other half floated from a distance, watching the conversation with disorienting detachment.

“Langford & Lovejoy Heritage Furniture only hires veterans. Wes told me they’re looking for someone to take over maintaining their social media.”

Cory nodded distractedly, the pervasive sense of detachment spreading. Time to head back to bed.

“He told the owner about you.”

“What?” Cory blinked. “Why?”

“Because you have skills. You
were
an IT specialist. You’re perfect for the job.”

Shit.
“I’m not perfect for anything. I can barely get of bed. I don’t think—”

“Nope. Stop.” Brenda shook her head. “This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to go take a shower and brush your teeth. Please.” She waved a hand in front of her nose. “Shave your legs and pits while you’re at it.”

“Well, that was brutal.”

“You need brutal.” Brenda stared a hole through her. “I brought my equipment with me. You have a job interview tomorrow evening, and I’m here to make sure you look your best.”

“What? NO!” Her blood turned to ice water, chilling her to the sludge-filled center of her bones.

“Yep. Let’s go. Hup, hup.” Brenda pulled her up and pointed her toward home. “Right, left, right, left. March. You stink, and your hair is a greasy, stringy mess.”

“I like it this way.”

“No, you don’t.” Brenda gave her a gentle nudge. “Ready or not, here comes your new life.”

“I’m not ready.” Panic sent her heart racing, tightening her chest and robbing her of breath. “I’m not
ready
, dammit.”

“I can’t believe you did it again!” Ted shouted, raking both hands through his hair. “You swore I would be part of the hiring process. You swore.” He glared at Noah.

No one seemed to care that he was the Lovejoy part of Langford & Lovejoy. Even though Ted was a full partner
and
the
human resources guy, to boot, Noah continued to make staffing decisions without conferring with him.

“This case was an emergency.” Noah widened his stance and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Besides, I said I’d
try
to follow the hiring procedures, and for the most part, I have. Cory is an exception. Plus, you agreed we need someone to take over the web maintenance, social media, and order processing.”

“That’s beside the point. Did you post the job? Take applications? How about an interview including me?”

“Hey, kid. What’s got your boxers in a bunch?” Ryan strolled into the conference room for their usual Monday-morning meeting. “We could hear you shouting from the first floor.”

“Maybe it’s the fact that you and everybody else around here still see me as a
kid
. I have a fucking master’s in business administration, and
I
sign
your
paycheck.”

Paige waddled in behind her husband, rubbing her distended belly. “Watch your language. I don’t want the baby to pick that stuff up.”

And there it was, the other exclusive club he couldn’t gain entrance to—the happily married and reproducing group. Ryan and Paige had just finished building their house on the east side of town and were expecting their first child. Noah and his cousin Ceejay were also expecting. This was number four for them. Ted rolled his eyes. “At thirty weeks, I doubt that pea in the pod is paying attention to what goes on at L&L.”

“They do.” She laid her folder on the table and settled into her chair. “Babies can hear things.”

“Whatever.” He took his customary place with his back to the door. “I don’t care if this Cory guy is a freaking genius. You had no business hiring him without my say-so,” he snapped.

Noah’s jaw twitched. “Cory is—”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I should leave,” a soft, feminine voice said from behind him.

“Don’t listen to him, Cory.” Paige leaned back and smiled. “Come in and have a seat.”

Huh?
Ted whipped around, his eyes widening at the sight of the waif standing uncertainly in the doorway. Feathery layers of dark-brown hair with lighter golden-brown highlights framed her wide-set, luminous brown eyes. She wore jeans and a peasant blouse that failed to hide how thin she was. He brought his gaze back to those doe eyes of hers and fell right in. They held a sadness so profound it would take a deep-sea submersible to get to the source.

Noah shot him a look that said he’d better be nice or else. “Ted, meet Cory Marcel. Cory, this is Ted Lovejoy, my sister Paige, and her husband Ryan. Cory is an IT specialist and a whiz with computers.”

Damn.
Ted shot up from his chair, almost knocking it over in his haste. It couldn’t have been pleasant for her to hear his rant. “Welcome to L&L. It’s good to have you aboard.” Their eyes met and held. Her brow creased, and she looked away, but not before he caught a glimpse of the alarm clouding her features.
I’m alarming? Great.

Shifting his attention back to their newest employee, he wondered what it was about her situation that had prompted Noah to disregard their protocol. What would it take to coax a smile out of her? He fantasized about what her smile might look like.

What? No.
He didn’t need or want to get involved. He had enough problems of his own.

Paige passed a sheet of paper to all of them. “This is the list I made of Cory’s responsibilities.” She turned to face her and
grinned. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have another woman in the building.”

“Thank you.” Cory skimmed the list. “Where will I be working?”

“You and I will share the office at the end of the hall by the stairs,” Paige told her.

“Does the…” Color rose to Cory’s cheeks, and her expression closed up tight. “Is there a lock on the door?”

Paige leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “You’re safe here, Cory. The men who work for us are more likely to be overly protective than anything else. As the only woman on this all-male staff for the past three years, I can personally vouch for every one of our guys.”

Mystified by the exchange, Ted frowned. “If that’s what you need, I’ll put a dead bolt on the door right after we’re done here.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his for a fraction of second before she dropped them again to the list. “I’d appreciate that.”

What the hell had happened to this woman?

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I
HAVE TO SAY A
special thank you to my friend Tami Hughes, who has been with me on this journey since the beginning. Without her input, insights, and support, I wouldn’t be here today. I want to thank Jeffrey and Laurel Otis, who put up with my endless “book talk” and still support and cheer me on. A shout-out to my friend Donna Meier. I love our monthly get-togethers. A special thanks goes to the outstanding Montlake Romance editorial staff and author team. You guys rock. Thank you to my wonderful agent Nalini Akolekar. And last but certainly not least, to all of the men and women who put on that uniform every day and serve our country, thank you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Photo by Glamour Shots, 2011

A
S A CHILD
, B
ARBARA
L
ONGLEY
moved frequently, learning early on how to entertain herself with stories. Adulthood didn’t tame her peripatetic ways: she has lived on an Appalachian commune, taught on an Indian reservation, and traveled the country from coast to coast. After having children of her own, she decided to try staying put, choosing Minnesota as her home. By day, she puts her master’s degree in special education to use teaching elementary school. By night, she explores all things mythical, paranormal, and newsworthy, channeling what she learns into her writing.