Unraveled

By Diana Lee Johnson

Alison Timberlane's escape from a string of violent deaths, and an abusive husband led her to a new life in a new place with a new name. The lock on her heart is not easily opened when love tries to penetrate in the person of a young ex-soldier. When her past catches up, his secrets push her over the edge and back into danger.

 

Fleeing to what she believes is her only refuge, Alison creates her own prison, and unravels the horrible carnage behind her. She is in no condition to attempt escape. Can her young lover trust her ex-husband enough to enlist his aid? Will they rescue her before she becomes the next murder victim?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9781597050876

Book preview

Prologue

1984, near Kankakee, Illinois

Oh, why had Burk made her move out here in the country, so far from Chicago? There were no neighbors for miles. This was farmland. Jessica put Justin in the carrier and tried to wake Carrie without frightening her, but Carrie was too tired. Somehow she managed to bundle her into one arm, and hold the handle of the carrier in the other. She dragged herself down the steps and to the front door, grabbing her purse as she passed the hall table.

They struggled through the kitchen to the garage. Her car wasn’t there. It was only a one-car garage so Burk’s car usually stayed in the driveway. Her car—where was her car? Then she remembered. Burk drove it once or twice a week while she was unable to drive, just to keep it running. She pushed the automatic door opener and saw his car and hers next to it in the driveway. The front end of her Volvo station wagon was badly damaged. She supposed it had happened on his way home. She’d have to take Burk’s car.

Luckily, her key ring contained a set of keys to each car. She opened the door of his Cadillac, sat Carrie on the passenger side, fastening the shoulder harness and seat belt snugly around her sleepy little body. Then she rounded the car and put the carrier holding Justin in the middle seat belt. She wanted the children in the front with her where she could see them both.

She sunk to the driver’s seat, her feet still on the ground as she curled up in pain. She had to leave; she had to get the car started, no matter how much pain she was in. She reached around the steering column and groped for the key slot with a weak, trembling hand. She turned the key, the door still open, her feet still on the ground. There was a little click, as if it the starter had a dead spot. It wasn’t going to start. Then... what followed she had pieced together from newspapers and television in the weeks to come.

The explosion could be seen and heard for miles. Burk was passed out upstairs and never roused until police dragged him from his bed. A farmer, who lived over a mile away, shouted to his wife to call the fire department then jumped in his pickup truck and hurried to the scene. He found Jessica on the lawn, some twenty feet from the car, where the blast had thrown her. She was covered in blood. He couldn’t tell if she was breathing. There was very little mass left in one place from the Cadillac. The pieces were strewn across the yard, burning furiously.

The farmer threw his coat over Jessica’s smoldering back, lest flames break out again. Afraid to touch her back, he simply turned her head to the side and made sure her airway was not restricted as he felt for a pulse. By the time he had determined she was breathing shallowly, and there was a faint pulse, the first engine company had arrived.

One

1991, Virginia

Who’s the new guy? Alison Timberlane, the Marketing Director for an appliance chain, asked Sarah Wiley as she inclined her head in the young man’s direction. She quickly appraised the snug jeans hugging muscular thighs, the short sleeves of a polo shirt straining over full biceps.

"William, something... Andersen, yeah, Andersen, that’s ‘s-e-n’. Sarah’s wry tone led Alison to believe she had been corrected on the spelling. Broad shoulders, a chest you could play ping-pong on, and buns to die for. Cute, huh?"

I suppose, Alison agreed, sucking in her cheeks to avoid a smile. A little young.

Not for me! Sarah offered over her shoulder as she turned slowly to follow him with her gaze. They were standing on the second floor landing, looking down over the showroom of the company’s biggest store.

What’s he do? Alison inquired, nonchalantly, trying to avert her gaze from the attributes Sarah had so blatantly pointed out.

That’s the weird part. Signed on as our new mail boy, uh, person, mail-person, warehouse helper, and general gopher. You know, that position they glorified with the title of ‘Retail Assistant’. Mostly he does the runs between the stores.

The young man with close-cropped brown hair appeared to be adjusting and fine-tuning the audio/visual displays.

You’re kidding! He appears to know what he’s doing with those wires and buttons. Surely he’s better suited to something a little more challenging.

Oh, I’ll say! Sarah rolled her eyes dreamily.

That’s not what I had in mind! Alison laughed at her Office Manager, who had also become a friend. He exudes a kind of confidence with that equipment. He must have some experience.

Oh, he does, something technical, electronics, radios, I don’t remember, but he needed a job, fast. Just mustered out of the Army after two hitches.

Why?

Not a clue! But that doesn’t mean I won’t find out. Sarah pushed herself away from the counter. Tossing one hand in the air dramatically to wave in his direction, she brought it toward her hair smoothing it when he gave no notice. I’ll fill you in when I do. She gave the young man a smile and a wave as her movements finally caught his attention.

He nodded without changing expression.

Alison’s mouth twisted in amusement as she wrinkled her nose and patted Sarah’s arm. You do that. She walked back down the long hall to her office.

It was convenient to have the offices on the second floor of a store. It kept her in touch with their sales. This store, in the Virginia suburbs was strategically placed next to the newest planned community in the area. The showroom was large and airy, a full two stories high inside. Alison had convinced the owners that people like to have breathing room when they’re deciding on a large appliance, not feel like they’re in some hole-in-the wall buying hot merchandise. Sales had soared from the day the doors opened.

There was a large balcony area with a stairway on one side and a glass elevator on the other, both running from the showroom floor to the offices above. Alison could slip out onto the balcony and survey the sales floor almost unobserved.

Beneath the office area was part of the huge warehouse. The loading dock, receiving bays and mobilization area along with storage for fast-moving items ran the full length of the building, next to the showroom. Other company executives and their staffs were in rented offices in D.C., where the company began.

Alison liked having her office away from the bulk of the general staff, not that she thought she was any better than anyone else now that she was a vice president of the company. She just liked the quiet and privacy besides the feeling of being in touch with the customers as well as the store staff. It helped keep her marketing strategies fresh.

Sarah’s office was nearest the balcony. At the end of the hall was Alison’s spacious office and private bathroom. She hadn’t asked for the added luxury, but the owners had insisted. They’d never hired a woman to do the marketing, but were so impressed with Alison’s earliest results, they wanted her to be comfortable. Between them was a long conference room Alison used for marketing meetings or to spread out sales reports and plan advertising strategies.

On the opposite side of the hall were offices for the store manager and his or her secretary. Alison didn’t interfere with the daily running of the store itself, and managers were often moved around from store to store so she and Sarah didn’t interact with them even as much as they did with the sales people on the floor or in the warehouse.

All thoughts of the new employee left her mind as Alison shuffled through the latest reports from the big Memorial Day sale. She sat facing the open door in the conference room. She didn’t like to be startled by someone opening the door when she was engrossed in figures and demographics or brainstorming some new marketing strategy.

The latest board meetings had hummed with proposals for expansion of the company to include three new stores. Sometimes the eleven they already had were a handful, but the company was doing well, and the owners were anxious to spread farther out in the suburbs, particularly in Maryland.

They were even giving some thought to building their own office building, instead of continuing to rent space in town. But Alison intended to keep her office right where it was. Though she thrived on creating new schemes for the company, she liked the familiarity of her own surroundings, and finally had the kind of set-up she wanted only a few minutes’ drive from her home. She was comfortable here, and that was essential to her.

She was facing toward the open doorway, not really seeing, just staring blankly, deep in thought about the prospective changes. This depth of concentration short-circuited her audio and visual senses.

Excuse me, William Andersen said shyly, but she made no sign of recognition. Ma’am, excuse me. He raised his voice a little.

Alison flinched, Sorry, were you speaking to me?

Yes, ma’am. Mr. Casey said to bring you these reports right away. He spoke with no discernable accent as he stood in the doorway with the stack of computer reports in his outstretched arms, making no move to enter the conference room.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Andersen, is it?

Yes, ma’am, but I’m used to answering to ‘Andersen’ or ‘Sergeant’.

Alison patted the table top in front of her. Just plunk them down here.

He nodded obediently moving no other part of his erect body, like some military sentry. He deposited the stack of paper on the table opposite Alison, then took one step backward and stood at attention. She imagined he was stifling the urge to salute as she noticed the square cut of his jaw and the azure blue eyes, expressionless and directed straight ahead.

Uh, thank you, Mr. Andersen.

He hesitated a moment, and Alison wondered if she should have said Dismissed. He gave a sharp military turn. Surprised he didn’t salute, Alison sucked in her cheeks, trying to keep from laughing out loud.

Mr. Andersen, Alison called after him.

Ma’am! he barked as he spun around at attention.

I’m Alison Timberlane. She stood up from the table extending her right hand for his.

Yes ma’am, I’ve been briefed. He didn’t reach to shake her hand, but as she did not withdraw it, he grasped it for one sharp stroke of a handshake, quickly unclasping it, and returning to his military stance.

Mr. Anderson, uh, do you prefer Bill?

He nodded.

We don’t stand on much ceremony around here. I’m sure you’ll loosen up eventually, but for now you should know two things. I use my first name with everyone in the company, and I don’t like being called ‘ma’am’!

Yes, ma’am, I mean, no, ma’am... I mean... I’ll try Miss Timberlane.

She winced, then smiled. Alison.

He swallowed, then choked out, Uh—Alison.

Better!

I’m not sure I can get used to calling you by your first name, at least not right away. His eyes were downcast; the tip of his tongue darted between his lips for moisture.

Work on it, Bill. It’s not so difficult. Consider it today’s assignment. I don’t wear any stars, or stripes, or whatever it is you’re used to addressing.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it. Alison imagined he stifled the urge to respond with no ma’am, or yes ma’am. Not speaking at all, he made a crisp turn and stole away down the hall, double-time. Alison smiled and shook her head, letting out her breath.

That is one tight fellow. Alison mumbled as Sarah slipped into the open doorway.

I’ll say! Tight all over! Sarah rolled her eyes. He’s got the best ‘bod’ I’ve seen in years.

"Sarah! You know very well that was not what I meant! Alison smiled as she chastised. You’d better take care who hears you—sexual harassment, you know."

Sarah sighed dreamily, I could go for some of that. Then she shook her attention back to her mission. I need a signature on this order for that new TV ad we’re shooting next week. She laid the papers in front of Alison. Bet we could corner the female customers if we put Bill on camera. She tapped her index finger against her chin, as she leaned against the door jam.

And just what do you think he’d be qualified to do on camera?

Just stand there and look gorgeous! That would get me in the store.

"Sarah, if that’s all it took to get customers, this company wouldn’t need me, and if it didn’t need me, I wouldn’t need you! Capiche?"

Yes, Ma’am! Sarah saluted, then remembered how Alison hated to be called ma’am, I mean, Yes, Alison. She backed out of the room as Alison’s eyelids closed in frustrated amusement. Sorry, Al. Sarah gave a little farewell nod.

Alison stared for a moment, actually picturing the young man in an advertisement, not a video ad, but perhaps he was worth thinking about for a newspaper spread. She doubted he would be much good at an animated ad, but a still camera... perhaps he could be posed. Undoubtedly he wouldn’t move once positioned, like a manikin or tin soldier. She shrugged and went back to her reports.

Looking through the latest demographics, Alison realized there could be something to appealing to the female population, and these reports showed the company was lagging behind in that area. After all, she was certainly not the only single female who owned her own home and appliances, especially not in the Washington Area so saturated with career women. Maybe their current advertising had something in it which made women uncomfortable about coming in. She’d study the matter.

Alison stacked the reports neatly on the table and went to her own office. She got out the file which held her projections for newspaper advertisements for the next quarter. Thumbing through it she found a sketch of a display of appliances with a sales person in the middle of a group of laundry equipment pieces. She envisioned putting a woman in the picture.

Her advertisements often showed non-traditional roles—men loading a washer, or cooking at a stove, women selling them or repairing them. Perhaps a man would be a welcomed change in this layout instead of a female model, then again, maybe not. After all, what would happen if women came in to look, and couldn’t find Mr. Incredible Hunk to wait on them. When there’s an obvious model in the ad, people don’t really expect him or her to be the one available to wait on them. Bill didn’t look like a male model, though he could easily adorn some romance novel cover.

Many appliance store ads featured the owner, or the store manager, but she didn’t like to favor one store manager over another, and the owners didn’t take a visibly active role in the business. They sometimes dabbled, but mostly just collected the profits.

She shook her head. She couldn’t turn Bill into an overnight salesman, and she couldn’t expect to find someone comparable in each of their stores. Maybe if she made him the guy putting the laundry in the washer, gave him a cute moniker, he could just capture women’s attention and represent a salesperson.

She decided to think about it while wandering the store a little, observing Bill. She found him in the Audio/Visual department. He was dutifully dusting and polishing all the televisions, VCR’s, and stereo equipment, looking very comfortable doing this domestic chore. Part of his multitude of small assignments was to help out with such housekeeping as he could between trips. Sometimes there were too many runs needed between the stores to fit anything else in, but today, things were a little slow.

Sarah came downstairs with a stack of delivery receipts for the salesmen to check out. Alison snapped her attention from Bill as Sarah bounced past her onto the sales floor, obviously hoping to get Bill’s attention.

Didn’t think you were interested. Sarah remarked under her breath as she passed Alison near the sales counter.

Huh? Oh. I’m not. Well, not in the way you mean. I just started thinking about what you said... luring women customers in. But not trying to show Bill off in a commercial. He’s too stiff and starchy for a live camera. Maybe a newspaper ad, where he could be posed. I’m sure he could stand in one position long enough to get a still shot. Not as a salesperson, though. She mused as Sarah listened. We’d never get a convincing smile out of him. It’s probably a fruitless idea. I’m not sure he can muster a pleasant expression on that face. He looks like a fugitive from Mt. Rushmore.

Really? Bet I can get a human expression out of him. Just sit back and watch how it’s done. Sarah gave a determined toss of her head and started to move in Bill’s direction.

Wait! Alison whispered, urgently, grabbing Sarah’s hand. She turned one of the video cameras kept constantly running for demos and tracking customer movement, toward Bill and stepped over to the appropriate monitor. It’ll be best if he doesn’t know I’m watching, and I can see how he comes across on camera.

Now? Sarah whispered. Alison nodded.

Sarah strolled over to the televisions, with her back toward Alison and the camera. Alison could see her shoulders moving, her arms bent at the elbows. She wondered how much adjusting Sarah could do to her blouse.

Hi, Bill. Sarah said brightly. Could you unhook that VCR right there? I need to take it to Alison’s office for her to review some tapes of prospective actors for our ads. Her VCR just quit. Sarah pointed randomly at a VCR on the bottom shelf.

Maybe I could fix it.

No, there isn’t time. She needs to watch them now.

Sure, Bill said quietly and squatted down to disconnect the wires. As he did so, Sarah bent over from the waist along with him, her chest precisely at his eye-level.

Bill’s eyes widened, he swallowed hard, and then a lazy, deep smile crept upon his lips.

I’ll take it upstairs for you, he offered, still quiet, but rather excitedly.

Oh, that’s not necessary. Women aren’t helpless you know. Sarah stood very close as Bill tried to divert his gaze. Just hand it to me. I’ll be fine.

Bill did as he was told. Sarah purposefully brought the VCR to her body just under her breasts, wrapping her arms about it tightly as she raised it strategically. It made a passable bustier.

We have nice equipment in this store, don’t we? She pursed her lips to stifle her smile.

Bill’s face flushed as his features dissolved into a broad smile. Very nice equipment. He finally chuckled and rolled his eyes, bashfully lowering his head and running his hand across his chin.

Sarah pulled the VCR up flat against her chest as she strode triumphantly toward Alison. See! He’s perfectly human. You just have to know how to get him to relax.

Alison was still looking at the monitor as Sarah spoke. She saw Bill trying to adjust the front of his jeans. Turning to face Sarah, Alison took the VCR from her hands and looked knowingly at Sarah’s bare skin hanging out of the unbuttoned blouse.

Relax? Seems to me you accomplished just the opposite. She nodded toward the television screen and Sarah could see the notable bulge in Bill’s already tight jeans.

Well, Sarah inhaled. At least it shows he’s human!

Okay, I’ll give you that!

I wish, Sarah whispered as she walked off a little embarrassed at being found out, but gloating over proving her point.

Alison headed for the stairway. As she passed Bill Andersen she whispered, You should smile more often. It’s very becoming.

She saw no immediate reaction in him as she passed, but glancing back from the balcony, she could see him smile sheepishly at her.

Two

Alison walked slowly back to her office. Bill did have a contagious smile, when he smiled, and she couldn’t argue with the fact that he was handsome and very well-built. She’d think about it, but just for a still photo, a newspaper layout. She must get to those actors on tape.

Some of the other big appliance chains used football or baseball players, but the majority of them were anything but actors. Nothing irritated Alison more than to see a commercial with a famous football star who was camera shy or tongue-tied. She felt it did the seller no good, and certainly didn’t enhance the football player’s public image.

Other dealers used the owners themselves, who thought they were good looking or charming, or were just publicity hounds. They often came across like shady used car salesmen. Neither of these was the image Alison projected to the public of her company. MarKel, Inc. ads were adult, understated, intelligent, and sometimes amusing.

Several years ago, when Alison started out as the public relations officer for MarKel, she convinced the owners, David Martin and Randolph Kelly that modern people were too smart to fall for gimmicks. Of course, there are always those few who could be taken in. But most of the buying public is too sophisticated for yelling salesman full of promises. They read Consumer Reports and expect to find reliable products and reliable trade’s people.

The days when commercials were all geared to the mentality of an eight-year-old are gone. Remote controls are used to mute the sound of obnoxious commercials, she told them.

So many people record on their VCR’s and then fast-forwarded through commercials, that Alison tried to keep an image on the screen long enough to be noticed, even in fast-forward. Another tactic she used was to make the commercial appear to be part of a program, so the viewer was involved before they thought to fast-forward or leave the room for refreshments.

She made sure there was attention paid to broader roles for men and women, ethnicity and age differences. She also made sure the image her company’s advertising portrayed could instill trust in them by the audience, however varied it might be.

Alison was, by no means, above using humor in her advertisements, particularly subtle humor. That was one reason she liked putting her actors in non-traditional circumstances. Perhaps that would work out. If I could find a way to cash in on his starchy, ‘newly released from the service’ image, without looking like he was newly released from prison. . Or maybe still in the service, after all there are enough of them around the area with Fr. Myers, Ft. Belvoir, and the Pentagon. That deserved some thought, but for now, Alison had to view tapes.

She sat in her office and watched tape after tape, but she couldn’t concentrate on any of them. Her mind kept drifting back to Bill, his stiffness, his awkwardness at being thrown into the world outside the Army. Images of advertisements crowded her mind, even television spots, if he just had to look lost and an announcer, or maybe a female actor did the talking. Ideas were beginning to take shape in her mind.

We could put him in fatigues, in front of a washer and dryer... his arms full of clothes, detergent, bleach, fabric softener... a bewildered look on his face. Then she spoke aloud. That shouldn’t be difficult! She continued her mental picture silently. A catchy caption as if he were speaking, like ‘Where’s the Sarge when I need her?’ It was becoming more attractive by the minute.

She left the videos and decided to observe Bill a little more, perhaps get him to talk to her, hear the sound of his voice. A joke. Can I think of a good joke? I’d like to hear him laugh... if he can laugh! She wandered out into the showroom, but she didn’t see him.

Looking for something... or maybe somebody? Sarah teased, a knowing grin on her face.

Oh, I was just thinking about what you said. Maybe Bill could be used in an amusing way in an ad. Alison gave her shoulders an unconcerned shrug. Just thought I might do a little more observing.

I’d like to do a whole lot more than just observe! Sarah laughed. There’s something about him. I can’t quite put my finger on it... She raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin on her face. ...but I sure would like to. She rolled her eyes and snorted.

Sarah, don’t you think about anything but men? Alison laughed.

"Sure! Clothes, and men, and cars and men, and money and men..." her voice drifted off.

Alison shook her head. Well, guess he’s not here. She turned to go back toward the stairs to the offices.

Oh, sorry, Al. Sarah remembered. He’s out at the loading dock. Truck came in and the driver needed help to unload. James called in sick today.

Alison tossed Sarah a nod of acknowledgment and headed for the warehouse side of the store. It might be good to sneak a peek at him with just other men around. Maybe he was looser then.

She slipped into the dispatcher’s booth and sat down so she wouldn’t be so obvious behind the large glass partition which offered a sweeping view of the loading dock. Then she turned on the two way speaker system so she could listen as she put her index finger to her lips to warn the dispatcher to be quiet.

New around here? The burly driver asked wiping the sweat dripping off the tip of his prominent nose with his gloved hand.

Been here a few days. Bill’s voice was clipped as he reached to help unload the shipment of new large-screen televisions.

Didn’t think I seen ya before.

Bill didn’t respond verbally. He just nodded.

Don’t look much like an appliance jockey. Take this job temporary? The huge man let out a little grunt as he pushed the next box to the back of the truck.

Maybe. Needed a job. Just mustered out of the Army.

‘Lot o’ that goin’ around since the Gulf War. Was you there?

Yeah. Bill’s response was quiet, almost whispered as if he didn’t like to think about it.

Shoulda seen all the yella ribbons tied around this place! That purdy lady upstairs had a real thing about bein’ a patriot. Even flew a Desert Storm flag out front with the Stars ‘n Stripes.

Really?

Yup! She’s a nice lady, too. Not quite the looker the gal out front is, though. I hear-tell they both wrote letters to servicemen—uh—service people.

The big man’s attempt at political correctness brought a smile to Bill’s usually tight lips.

Alison looked down at her hands, she knew her face was flushed. She hoped they’d change the subject. The dispatcher folded his lips in, obviously trying not to laugh out loud and give them away. Alison gave Mannie a playful tap on the arm. They started with the company about the same time, and liked and respected each other.

Bill shrugged his shoulders after they put another heavy box down on the warehouse floor as if he had no opinion on the observation the driver made. Then he tilted his head to one side with a thoughtful expression. I don’t know. Miss Wiley’s pretty all right, and she’s got a great figure, but I kind of like the style of the other lady, Miss Timberlane.

"Better not let her hear ya call her ‘Miss’. She’s real big on that liberated ‘Ms.’ bull. Maybe cause she ain’t married. Sarah says she don’t even date much."

Alison decided eavesdropping like this was not one of her better ideas. She flipped the speaker switch closed and stood up to slip from the booth, but Mannie wanted to hear more. He flipped the switch back on and gently grabbed her arm, encouraging her back to her seat as they heard the next words from Bill.

Not married, maybe I can understand, but not dating? That’s a surprise. Must be a lot of stupid guys around this area. She’s got real class, not to mention being easy on the eyes.

Alison squirmed in her seat. She wanted to flee, not that Mannie would ever mention what they’d heard. She trusted him completely, but this was embarrassing.

Yeah, guess so. The driver nodded in agreement. But I’d bet money she’s colder than a witch’s—

Alison flipped the speaker switch and fled the booth as Mannie tried not to laugh. Only Mannie saw Bill watching out of the corner of his eye, a half-stifled grin on his face.

Once the initial embarrassment wore off, Alison thought about the fact that Bill actually strung a few sentences together just before she left. His deep voice had a pleasing tone through the sound system. Maybe there was some hope for future television ads, but for now, just a still shot.

It was time for lunch, and though Alison often had lunch in her office, today she wanted to go out. She changed from her heels to her flats, she didn’t like to drive in heels. Flats were safer and more comfortable, besides, she decided to go over to the mall for lunch, maybe do a little shopping.

She drove the short distance to the mall, parked near the middle, and walked through the center doors. She wanted to buy herself a new dress, not a suit like she always wore to work, something not so conservative. There was a little spring in her step which hadn’t been there for years. She felt like being frivolous, something else which hadn’t happened for a long time.

A burgundy, two-piece dress caught her eye. The plain, straight skirt was split on one side, not too high, just high enough to be saucy. The top had a peplum which flared and fell nicely from the fitted waist. The low-cut, sweetheart neckline was trimmed with white, crocheted lace, a simple pattern that just added a little contrast to the dress. The top buttoned down the front with white, mother-of-pearl buttons. She could picture a single strand of pearls around her neck to set the dress off nicely.

It was a flattering style, and the color complimented her blue eyes and brown hair, bringing out the red and gold highlights in it.

She bought a pair of burgundy heels to match, and then wondered where she was going to wear it all. Maybe the next time she went to dinner with Tony. No, that might give him the idea she was ready for something besides friendship. He often hinted his interest, but they had been friends all their lives, and Alison didn’t want to spoil that by getting romantically involved. She needed his friendship too much.

Maybe she’d wear it the next time she had an evening board meeting. She had time to change in the private bathroom adjoining her office before she left for the offices in town. Yes! That’s when she’d wear it. There wasn’t anyone at the staff meeting she could be interested in, and vice versa. They were all happily married.

She grabbed a sandwich at the food court in the mall and hurried back to the office. She could take as long as she wished for lunch, and she hadn’t been gone more than an hour, but she liked to set a good example when she did go out. Besides, Alison just remembered she was meeting Tony for an early dinner right after work and she couldn’t stay to work late as she often did. He was only in town for the day and had to catch a plane at nine.

Sarah and Alison walked out together at five o’clock. Alison noticed Bill was still on the showroom floor working on something.

Bill, shouldn’t you have left about four? she asked from the foot of the stairs.

Mr. Casey was having trouble with the antenna wiring on the televisions. He offered me some overtime when I told him I could probably fix it.

Oh, okay. See you in the morning. She smiled and gave him a little wave.

Yes, Ma’—Alison.

Sarah gave him her biggest smile and rolled her eyes dreamily leaning toward him as she waved.

Alison turned to Sarah as they walked together. He actually chokes just trying to use my first name. She snickered a little. It’s kind of cute.

Hold on, Al, I saw him first! Sarah laughed.

He’s all yours, believe me. I’m not into younger men. But are you sure he’s not married?

Not according to his job application. I got a good look at it before I sent it to personnel.

Sarah, those things are confidential, you know.

I know, but he handed it to me the day he came in answer to our ad. I can’t help what my eyes see and my brain remembers.

I suppose you know when his birthday is, too!

Sure, November seventh. She paused. He’s twenty-five, just in case you’d like to know. Exactly my age.

You’re twenty-seven! Alison laughed and nudged her.

Well, just six months ago, and he’ll be twenty-six in five more. Sarah sported a wicked smile as she tossed her head flipping her blonde hair.

I wish you luck! Alison called as she opened her car door, still shaking her head at Sarah’s detective work.

Alison glanced in her rear view mirror as she started to back out of her parking space. She turned her head quickly, believing she saw a familiar form walk in front of the store. But there was no one there when she turned around. Great, now I’m seeing things! she said to herself with a chuckle.

Three

Tony was sitting on her front porch when Alison got home, his rental car thoughtfully parked on the street so she could pull into her driveway. He stood up when she pulled in, all six-foot-five of him, a broad, warm smile on his ruggedly handsome face.

He rushed around to open her car door. Hello, gorgeous!

Hello yourself, big guy! She jumped from the car and threw herself into his huge arms, feeling them enfold her in familiar safety. You don’t know how glad I am to see you.

That’s the best news I’ve had in weeks. He chuckled. Does that mean you finally came to your senses and decided to leave all this and marry me?

Not yet. But don’t stop asking, you might wear me down.

Don’t I wish!

They walked to her front door holding hands. Her hand was so lost in the massiveness of his, it reminded her of how it felt to hold a newborn baby’s hand for the first time. Alison unlocked the door of her modest house and pulled him in behind her.

Don’t mind the mess, I’ve been working a lot lately, she offered over her shoulder as she started down the hall. Make yourself a drink, you know where everything is. I won’t be a minute.

I told you a hundred times, marry me and you won’t have to do anymore housework! he called after her as he went into the kitchen for a drink.

Seems to me I fell for that one once before.

By the time his drink was in hand, Alison was back out refreshed and ready to go.

You look different today, Jess, uh, excuse me, Alison. That’s the most difficult thing I know, not calling you Jessica like when we grew up. Can’t say that I blame you for changing your name, though. You haven’t had any trouble, have you?

No, everything’s been fine. She hesitated. Just...

What?

Oh, it’s nothing. Probably my imagination ’cause I was thinking about seeing you tonight.

What, Jess?

Well, tonight as I left the store, I thought I saw Burk in my rear view mirror. I turned around, but there wasn’t anybody there. It must have been my imagination.

For a split second, an angry look crossed Tony’s face. "He looked me up a few weeks ago. Asked for money. Got a little ugly when I refused, but, you know I can handle him. Jess, if you even think you see him, you call me. Promise?"

She nodded. You really do have to try not to call me ‘Jess’. You’re still a famous personality. Someone might spot us and put two and two together.

Naw, you look too different from when you and Burk were together. You look like the Jessie I grew up with, back to your pretty brown hair, instead of that washed out blonde Burk kept insisting on. I still blame myself for ever introducin’ ya to that creep.

Tony, stop. None of it was your fault. I love you, you’re my best friend. I just miss spending more time with you, that’s all. I’m glad your job brings you out here at least once in a while.

Jess, uh, Ali, if you’d marry me, you could move back home. I could protect you. You know Burk wouldn’t try anything with me around.

She smiled and shook her head. You just don’t give up, do you?

Nope! You can expect me to keep asking for the next forty years, at least.

Oh, Tony, she walked into his arms, I could use one of your hugs right now. I love you, but not in the way I would need to for marriage. Though I could get used to this warmth and safety. I haven’t felt that since Papa died. She snuggled against his huge chest.

I know, I know. He held her close and kissed the top of her head. I keep looking, dating, but I find myself comparing every woman I meet to you. They just don’t stack up.

The right girl will come along. You wait and see. She patted his back, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his cheek. Then Alison moved from his embrace.

Yeah, that’s what you keep tellin’ me. I just hope the right one comes along while I’m young enough to still want kids. Ya know how much I want kids, Jess.

Alison bit her lip and tears came to her eyes.

Oh, Jesus, Jess, I’m sorry.

It’s okay. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her entire body quivering momentarily. "See, that