Playing for Keeps by A.C. Arthur

Author:A.C. Arthur [Arthur, A.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Artistry Publishing

9

“Hold it right there, missy!”

Rylan spun around in the parking lot, ten seconds away from lifting her arms and assuming the position as she heard the order given in a loud tone. If it weren’t for the click-clack of heels on the sidewalk she would’ve believed she was being arrested, for what she had no idea. But she saw Camy walking confidently toward her, wearing black leather boots zipped up her calf.

“Good morning to you too,” Rylan said and met Camy halfway, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets because she’d left her gloves at home.

That was most likely due to the fact that there’d been a man in her apartment this morning while she’d been getting ready for work.

“Oh no, we’re skipping right past the pleasantries and getting down to the nitty gritty,” Camy insisted with a shake of her head.

As of three weeks ago, Camy’s hair was a honey bronze color with blonde streaks similar to the ones Rylan had in her jet-black hair. Camy’s hair was styled in fluffy curls that rested on her shoulders. Today she wore black pants, the boots, and a black leather coat belted at the waist. She looked like a model with her carefully made up face and manicured nails, while Rylan burrowed into her thick coat and kept her mouth closed to keep her teeth from chattering.

“Yes, we can do this inside,” Camy said, reading Rylan’s mind.

She laced her arm through Rylan’s and quick-walked them to the door of the body shop. Rylan entered first, with Camy hot on her heels.

“Mornin, Dad,” Rylan yelled into the garage, but lead Camy in the other direction toward the offices.

“Mornin, Mr. Will,” Camy yelled after her and closed the door to Rylan’s office seconds after they entered.

Rylan was taking off her coat when Camy continued.

“Okay, tell me why you were dropping Del off at the bar this morning,” she said before leaning her butt on the side of Rylan’s desk.

Rylan had been hanging her coat on the back of the door as Camy spoke. She was grateful to not be facing her friend at the moment that question rolled out. Her motions came slower as she pulled the gray and white polka dot scarf she’d had tied around her neck and tucked under her coat, off and hung it up too.

“Stalling,” Camy continued. “That means I was right to follow you here to ask questions instead of just texting you.”

When Rylan turned to face Camy it was with a slight frown on her face. “You were at the bar? Why didn’t you toot your horn, wave, say good morning? Something. You followed me all the way to work, which is on the opposite side of town from the school where you should be heading to teach your noon class.”

Camy had always wanted to be a singer, but her mother’s illness had kept her from leaving town right after high school with the talent scout that had heard Camy sing in the school talent show.

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