Where There's Smoke

“I’m not interested, that’s why,” she replied loftily. “Besides, no one’s been swept off his feet by my dazzling face and form.”

“There’s nothing wrong with either,” he said staunchly.

“But they’re hardly dazzling.”

“No, because you’ve got it into your stubborn head that you’re plain Jane, so you dress the part. You’re so…” disdainfully, he gestured at her prim blouse, “buttoned up.”

“Buttoned up?”

“Yeah. What you need to do is unbutton. Unhook. Unstrap. Get loose, sis.”

She pretended to be aghast. “As an old maid, I take exception to such trashy talk.”

“Old maid! Who the hell…? You listen to me, Janellen.” He pointed his index finger at the tip of her nose. “You’re not old.”

“I’m not exactly an ingenue either.”

“You’re two years younger than me. That makes you thirty-four.”

“Not quite.”

“Okay, thirty-three. Far from over the hill. Hell, broads these days wait until they’re forty to start having kids.”

“Those who do wouldn’t appreciate your referring to them as ‘broads.’ ”

“You get my drift,” he insisted. “You haven’t even reached your sexual peak yet.”

“Key, please.”

“And the only reason you’re still a ‘maid,’ if you are—”

“I am.”

“More’s the pity… is because you clam up and shy away from any guy who even thinks about getting into your pants.”

Janellen, stricken by his crudeness, stared at him speechlessly. She worked around men eight hours a day, five days a week, and occasionally on weekends. As a rule, their language was colorful and to the point, but they monitored it when Miss Janellen was within hearing. When her employees addressed her, they cleaned up their act.

Of course Jody would shoot on sight any man using vulgarities in either her or her daughter’s presence. Paradoxically, Jody herself had an extensive vocabulary of obscenities and blasphemies, an irony that seemed to escape her.

The fact that Janellen emanated an invisible repellent against casual and unguarded behavior didn’t please her. In fact, she considered this characteristic a liability. It set her apart and proved that she didn’t attract men in any way, on any level including friendship. She couldn’t even be one of the boys, although she’d grown up having to contend with two older brothers.

She wasn’t so much affronted by Key’s salty languag

e as she was stunned. In a way she took it as a compliment. Key, however, couldn’t guess that.

“Oh, hell,” he muttered remorsefully and stroked her cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. It’s just that you’re too hard on yourself. Lighten up, for chrissake. Have some fun. Take off a year and go to Europe. Raise hell. Create a ruckus. Scare up a scandal. Broaden your scope. Life’s too short to be taken so seriously. It’s passing you by.”

She smiled, clasped his hand, and kissed the back of it. “Apology accepted. I know you didn’t mean to hurt my feelings or insult me. But you’re wrong, Key. Life isn’t passing me by. My life is here, and I’m content with it. I’m so busy, I don’t know how I’d fit in another interest, romantic or otherwise.

“Granted, my life isn’t as exciting as yours, but I don’t want it to be. You’re the globe-trotter. I’m a homebody, not at all suited to hell-raising and ruckuses and scandals.”

She laid her hand on his forearm. “I don’t want to argue with you on your first day home since Clark’s…” She couldn’t bring herself to complete the sentence. She dropped her hand from his arm. “Let’s go downstairs. The coffee should be ready by now.”

“Good. I could use a cup or two before facing the old lady. What time does she usually get up?”

“The old lady is up.”

In the doorway stood their mother, Jody Tackett.