Lead-Pipe Cinch Read Free Page A

than a year before I can get my certification. And that is assuming I even pass the exams.”
    Sue rolled her eyes. “You, worried about exams? Puhleeese, Miss Graduated-From-One-of-the-Toughest-Schools-on-the-Planet. You can pass any exam you want.”
    I shrugged. “Maybe so.” To tell the truth, I was proud of the computer science degree from Caltech, and the math and science did help with some of my plumbing class work.
    But I had learned the hard way that nothing guaranteed success—in academic affairs, or business affairs.
    Which brought me back to Blake, and his presence in Pine Ridge.
    Why was he here?

chapter 3

    Unfortunately, I was about to get an answer from the inimitable Mr. Weston himself.
    Not that I expected to see Blake in a local dive like Tiny’s. He should have been in Portland at a white-tablecloth restaurant with an impressive wine list, not at a tavern where every dish starts with fried and the beverage choices are bottle or draft.
    Yet there he was, walking through the door of Tiny’s with Chad and Astrid McComb, the three of them yak-king like old friends.
    I searched my memory, wondering if Blake had ever mentioned Chad or Astrid. However, most of what I remembered of my conversations with Blake centered around Samurai Security—or topics I couldn’t think about without cringing—and I didn’t remember any reference to the McCombs.
    “Earth to Neverall,” Sue said, snapping her fingers in my face. “You still with us, Georgie?”
    I turned to look back at Sue. She was staring at me, her forehead furrowed with concern. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    I shook my head. “I’m fine. Really.” I picked up my beer and took a sip to cover my distraction.
    I felt as if I was being watched, and not by Sue. Did I really think Blake Weston even remembered my name five minutes after I fled San Francisco, much less three years later? Not likely.
    “Who’s the hunk?” Sue asked, glancing behind me.
    “What hunk?” I stalled, pretending I didn’t know exactly who she was talking about.
    “The one with Astrid and her husband,” she replied. “The one that’s checking you out.”
    “Likely story,” I said. “Nobody checks out anybody in Tiny’s. You’ve got this place confused with the Meet Market.” I named the singles’ hangout a few miles west. “That’s where you go to check people out.”
    “Yeah? Well, he’s definitely headed this way.”
    “Maybe he’s checking you out,” I said. “Ever think of that?” I leaned over my food, wishing my hair was long enough to hide my face, but the practical low-maintenance cut left me exposed.
    Sue shook her head. “Definitely focused on you,” she said.
    I refused to turn around. I knew who it was. What was I going to say? Hi, Blake. How’ve you been since you stole my business and destroyed my life?
    And how would I explain him to the people around me? I had left my high-tech life behind, had buried it and started over. It was history—dead and gone—and I wanted it to stay that way.
    “Gee?” The voice sent goose bumps across my arms, the nickname all too familiar. “Gee, is that really you?” The incredulous tone, slightly superior, mocked me. “What are you doing here?”
    Chad McComb appeared in my field of vision, edging around the side of our small table. “Georgiana?” he said tentatively. “This is Blake Weston, a colleague of mine from the Bay Area?” His voice rose at the end of his sentence, as though he was unsure how to introduce Blake.
    “Perhaps you’ve met?” Chad sounded puzzled.
    I turned slowly in my chair, aware of Sue watching my every move. There would be awkward questions later. I shoved the thought to the back of my mind, and tried to concentrate.
    My lizard brain—the uncontrolled panic center that runs on pure emotion—screamed at me to run. Knock over the chair, run like hell, and put as much distance as possible between me and the taunting ghost of my old