Don't Make Me Choose Between You and My Shoes Read Free Page A

didn’t doubt that he felt some sort of affection for her. She felt something for him, too, but it wasn’t that white-hot passion she had read about in romance novels. Something could be said for loyalty and dependability, but Lord, what wouldn’t she give for a connection across a crowded room. Desire and wild abandon. A part of her refused to give up hope.
    She walked past the store’s front counter, then the length of the building, to her desk. Well, it wasn’t a real desk. It was actually a folding card table on which her computer and a phone sat.
    â€œHow’s that pretty grandma of yours?” Dewey called after her.
    Celina smiled. She knew of the romance growing between Dewey and her grandmother. That was just fine. She was glad her grandmother had found someone. It was cute that both of them thought their big secret was safe. Celina had suspected from the beginning that Dewey had donated the use of his feed-store wall to establish a link to Granny Dee. “Okay, Dew.”
    As soon as she had taken care of her morning chores, Celina sat down to surf the Internet, as she always did when the library traffic was slow. And let’s face it , she told herself. When was traffic not slow ?
    She scanned two news Web sites, catching up on national news, stopped off at a few shopping sites and ended up on the site of the National Association of Private Investigators. The real-life cases, posted for viewers to read, held her as captivated as the Nancy Drew stories had. But the NAPI cases were better. They were true.
    It was here, on this day of extreme restiveness, that Celina was hit with an epiphany. In the bottom left-hand corner of her monitor screen was a link inviting her to see more details on the upcoming NAPI convention being held in New York City. Among all the tempting topics were seminars explaining how to start your own investigation service.
    Celina shot upright in the chair and squealed. New York City. Her entire life, Granny Dee had spoken about her first great love, the place of her upbringing, New York City. She had been a performer with the Radio City Rockettes whenshe fell for a handsome Texas cowboy competing in a rodeo in Madison Square Garden. When the cowboy left New York, returning to the Lone Star State, a leggy Rockette was on his arm.
    Still, as much as she loved the Texas cowboy, Granny Dee never lost her love for the Big Apple. She talked of it so often Celina felt as if it were her second home. The opportunity to learn how to be a detective, in the city to which she felt a kinship, had to be kismet.
    Dewey leaned over the counter, craning his neck. “You all right back there?”
    â€œI’m fine,” she answered. “Dewey, have you ever been to New York City?”
    The storeowner ambled toward her, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “I’ve never been out of Texas. I joined the Air Force when I was a kid. Intended to see the world. But I never got farther than Dyess Air Force Base in Abilene. Always regretted that, too.”
    Celina looked at him with renewed interest. “Really? You do regret it?”
    â€œYou bet. I plan on doing some traveling one day, before I get too old.” His face took on a plaintive expression. “If I was your age, I wouldn’t let anything stop me. I’d like to see New York. I’ve wished many a time that I had seen them two towers before they came down.”
    Celina looked at Dewey a few seconds more, a plan of action taking root. “How’d you like to come to supper at the house this evening, Dewey?”
    His mouth tipped into a shy grin. “Why, that’d be just fine, Celina.”
    â€œGood. You know what a good cook Granny Dee is. Come at seven o’clock.”
    He grinned bigger. “Okay. I’ll be there.”
    Celina couldn’t wait to call Granny Dee and tell her. As Dewey ambled up to the front of the store whistling, she picked up the phone receiver and