Twice in a Blue Moon by Laura Drake Page A

It’s hardly worth our time, waiting on two customers every four hours.”
    Cables cut, the elevator of joy in Indigo’s chest plunged. But an identical one full of indignation rocketed. “I’m working on that. Any suggestions you or your staff have would be appreciated. It would also help if you’d begin spreading the word in town that The Widow is open for business again.”
    Sondra’s lips tightened.
    â€œAnd in the meantime, I am paying you, even if it is to wait on only two customers every four hours.” Indigo slammed her mouth shut before she could vent more frustration; she turned and strode for her office.
    She couldn’t work on a budget until she spoke with Danovan again. So she picked up the first tome on the large stack that he’d left on the edge of her desk.
    The Chemistry of Wine
. She rifled through pages filled with atomic diagrams and twenty-letter words. “Not titillating, but if this is what it takes...”
    When she settled in her chair, Barney whined from his bed in the corner.
    â€œI don’t know what you’re complaining about. I’m not making you read it.”
    Three hours later, the grinding of her stomach pulled her attention from the book. She finished a note, laid down her pen and stretched. She was pretty proud of herself. Skirting her way through the hard-core chemistry and dry-as-dust prose, she’d managed to glean a basic understanding of flaws, faults and fermentation. She put her notes in her stopping place and closed the book. “Barney, did you realize that 2,4,6-trichloroanisole is responsible for cork taint? Who knew?”
    Barney yawned.
    â€œDon’t you dare go back to sleep.” She lifted her purse from the drawer and the flyers she’d created from the desk. “We’re going to town. We have things to do.”
    She felt like a coward, but that didn’t stop her from leaving by the side door to avoid the ninja throwing stars in Sondra’s gaze. Those damned things cut deep, shredding her confidence, her dignity and her carefully constructed owner facade. Barney led the way around the back, and they jogged up the hill to the car like kids playing hooky.
    Such a pretty day. The sun-dappled road wound under the trees, and when they broke out of the shade, the light almost blinded her. She grabbed her sunglasses and hit the button to lower the windows.
    As he always did, when the window on the world opened, Barney stuck out his head. She smiled at his look of bliss, sniffing the air, wind puffing out his lips and pulling back his ears. As they wheeled through town, people turned to stare.
    Thanks to the internet, she knew the only place for what she wanted was Coast Hardware, on the way to the town of Solvang. She snagged a parking place in front and helped Barney out.
    Tied to a bike rack in front of the store was the ugliest bulldog she’d ever seen. Mostly white, but with the pink of his skin showing through. A pink scar zigzagged down his back. He sat, tongue lolling, drooling on the sidewalk. Though the dog looked as though he were smiling, she approached with caution. Barney’s tail moved in a slow, “hello, I think” wave.
    The dog stood on stumpy muscular legs, his butt wiggling in glee.
    Barney walked up and gave him a sniff. The bulldog licked his face and flopped on his side, exposing his belly. Barney sat looking like an old man trying to figure out what to make of this damp, happy thing.
    â€œYou two play nice. I’ll be back in a bit, Barn.” She tied the leash around the bike rack and, with a last look over her shoulder, walked through the door.
    She hadn’t seen a store like this since she’d left Humboldt County. A small-town operation, they carried a variety of products, catering to tourists up front, selling postcards, beach balls and souvenirs. She wandered the aisles, just in case...
    Pay dirt. Tucked between the pool blow-up toys and the beach