Party Crashers Read Free Page A

my big closing.”
    Jolie nodded. “It must be a really big closing, since you’ve already mentioned it twice.”
    Sammy’s eyes narrowed. “Happy shoeing, Jolie.”
    Jolie watched Sammy sashay away, her stomach churning over the way she’d handled the situation. This was a bad time to be starting her own brokerage company, and she had very few resources to fall back on. Considering how many agencies were struggling, if she couldn’t get enough business going in the next few months, she might have to go crawling back to Sammy or start at square one somewhere else.
    She glanced down at the boxes in her hands. She didn’t seem to have much of a future in shoes.
    “I sense history between the two of you.”
    Jolie glanced at Beck Underwood, who sat patientlywith his new shoes on his lap. He had put his old tennis shoes back on, and Jolie wondered about the ground those battered shoes had covered, places she hoped to see someday.
    “Former boss,” Jolie murmured, then reached for his new shoes. “I’m sorry you had to wait. Do you need anything else?”
    “Yeah.” Then he smiled. “But it’ll give me an excuse to come back—this is the most excitement I’ve had since I returned to Atlanta.”
    She managed a shaky smile, thinking she didn’t know how much more excitement she could take today. She just wanted to go home and soak her feet, and maybe call her friend Leann to report on what had to be the world’s worst first day on the job.
    She set aside the shoes Sammy had passed on and carried Beck’s loafers to the counter to ring up his sale.
    A willowy black woman wearing chinos and a dark jacket walked up to the counter.
    “I’ll be right with you,” Jolie said.
    “Jolie Goodman?”
    Jolie tensed. “Yes.”
    The woman opened her coat to reveal a silver badge. “I’m Detective Salyers with the Atlanta PD. I need to speak with you.”

Two
    J olie stared at the detective and her stomach caved. “Is something wrong?”
    “I just need to talk with you, ma’am.”
    “Is this about Gary?”
    “Yes.” The woman’s expression gave away nothing.
    Jolie’s mind reeled. She looked up and saw that Beck Underwood had overheard everything and was watching her carefully. Across the sales floor, Michael Lane stared curiously in her direction. She glanced at her watch, then looked back to the detective. “My shift ends in fifteen minutes. Can you wait?”
    The woman nodded. “How about meeting me at the Coffee Shack in the food court?”
    Jolie swallowed hard. “Okay.” She watched the policewoman walk away and wanted desperately to run after her. Her heart slammed against her breastbone, and her hands were shaking so badly, she could barely finish ringing up the sale.
    She looked up and tried to fix her face in a natural expression. “Will you be using your Neiman Marcus card?”
    Beck was staring at her. Slowly, he reached for his wallet and flipped through before removing a platinum bank credit card. “There isn’t a Neiman Marcus where I’ve been living.”
    She ran the card and handed him a receipt to sign. While she bagged his purchase, her gaze drifted toward the mall entrance. The detective had to have some kind of news, didn’t she? And if it were good news, the police would have called, wouldn’t they? Or Gary himself?
    “Jolie?”
    She started, then took the signed receipt he extended. “Thank you.”
    He cleared his throat. “This is none of my business, but is everything okay?”
    She nodded and held up his shopping bag. “Thank you for shopping at Neiman Marcus.” Then she gave him the best smile she could manage. “Please come back and I’ll try not to bulldoze you.”
    He hesitated, then took his bag. “Take care.”
    She maintained a cheery smile until he turned away. Then she grabbed the Sammy rejects and checked the floor for debris she might have overlooked from the crash. In the stockroom, she spent the last few minutes of her shift methodically returning the jumble of