Chapter Two: Scallop Stew

"The plunging neckline in the back is a distinguishing feature of Twenties couture," Miranda purred, her slim fingers casually caressing her assistant's bare back. "Note the fine beadwork, and the slender silhouette. Big boobs were considered vulgar."

"Oh my," sighed dreamy Abigail.

"Quite expensive," noted practical Marty.

The two elegant old ladies came to Miranda's dress shop almost every day. Abigail and Martha were retired teachers, and they'd shared a cozy cottage in the sleepy little town for as long as anyone could remember. Everyone knew they were a couple.

"We'll take it," Marty said decisively, fishing out her credit card. She was the practical one.

"So lovely to see you again, Miranda," Abigail gushed. She was the romantic one, always playing matchmaker. "You're looking lovely as always and . . . and so is your new assistant!"

"Go and change, Andrea." Miranda didn't even glance at the slim, dark-haired girl in the shimmering beaded gown. "Make it quick. These women are in a hurry."

"Yes, Miranda." Andy didn't mind modeling the merchandise. She understood that it was part of the job. When she paraded back and forth in sexy clothes in front of Marty and Abigail, she could see the deep appreciation in their eyes. The two of them had been a couple for ages, ever since Andy was a baby in diapers. But they got what she had to offer. She just wished Miranda . . .

"Now I need you to go down to the post office on Main Street. Put those parcels in the mail for me, and make sure they're sent out Certified Mail. You know what to pick up on the way back. We need all the usual office supplies and we're out of hand sanitizer."

"Yes, Miranda." Andy had changed back into her everyday attire, street clothes suitable for running errands. Standing before Miranda in jeans, a sweater and a pair of boots, she felt invisible.

"I will expect you to stay late after we close the shop this evening. We have some very important matters to discuss. There's no reason to go hungry, though, so be sure to order a complete meal for both of us while you're in town. I'll take care of the wine. And be sure to cancel your evening plans with Nate, if you have any."

"Yes, Miranda!" Andy could never tell what her boss was thinking, because Miranda always spoke in that soft, commanding voice. Her cold, serene and flawless face usually showed no emotion. But this time Andy could have sworn that she saw something, a carefully guarded glimmer in the older woman's winter-gray eyes.

"Something's come up," Andy told Nate, when she ran into him at his restaurant later that afternoon. His family owned half the real estate in town, not to mention the local bank and a couple of auto dealerships out on the highway. But Nate was happiest when he was cooking for the locals and chatting with whoever dropped by.

"I bet she's going to offer you a raise!" Ever the optimist, Nate had been saying from day one that Andy was the best thing that had ever happened to Miranda's dress shop. He'd actually been the one to recommend her, simply because he didn't like having a girl he was dating on the company payroll. Nate was a decent guy, with the sweetest smile, even if he was a little on the chubby side. Andy had seen pictures of him in high school, when he'd been gorgeous. Miranda had been a beauty too. But then, she still was.

"Well, I don't think she wants me to run off to the big city," Andy began, nervously shifting from one foot to another. "But she . . ."

"Here, try this." Nate offered her something from a spoon. Andy closed her eyes and swallowed, savoring the taste.

"Scallop stew," Nate said triumphantly. "Pretty good, right? I just sauté a few onions, add some scallops, a little butter, and it's ready to go. It's been a family favorite since whaling days."

"A guy who can cook is a guy worth keeping!" Andy felt like a fake, her smile pasted on to cover the guilt underneath. Was she really thinking of dumping this guy for Miranda? Usually she loved hanging out in the kitchen in Nate's restaurant, laughing with the crew and watching Nate make mouth-watering meals for everyone in town. His family was like royalty, but Nate was the warmest guy you could meet. Just the opposite of Miranda, who was always so cold and aloof. But what would happen if Miranda melted? Andy flushed, remembering the unexpected kiss that knocked her socks off the other night. "Nate, I need to tell you . . . I mean, about me and Miranda . . ."

"Hey, Nate! Any chance you could feed the Little League team tonight? We lost in the finals, but I promised the kids that if they did their best we'd still have pizzas and celebrate."

"Sure thing, coach!" Nate's smile was dazzling. He'd been a star shortstop in his time, even if he'd put on a few pounds since. He gave Andy the same magnificent smile. "What were you saying, baby?"

"N-nothing, Nate. Thanks for boxing up the dinner for Miranda and me. I'm really sorry about tonight. I'll make it up to you, I promise!"