That Carrington Magic - By Karen Rigley Page 0,1

this.”

“Come on, please?”

“Get someone else.”

“We can’t. It’s you.”

Sighing, Jami stared back at her friend, who had the same green-eyed, pixie appeal at twenty-eight as she’d had when they first met in Mrs. Ryder’s fourth grade class. In fact, the pleading in Sierra’s face had the same effect it always did. How many years had they been there for each other? Then eight years ago, Sierra had securely reinforced their bond of friendship when Jami’s parents were killed in an auto accident. She couldn’t have survived that nightmare ordeal without Sierra. Then again, when Jami’s world had crashed down upon her during her divorce, Sierra had held her up; been her strength, her support, and even made her laugh occasionally.

“There’s truly no one else. Please, we’re depending on you.”

“All right, if it’s that important.” Jami caved, though instinct warning her that she should refuse. Yet how she could deny her friend in need? “I guess I can handle one date.”

“Ah, it’s not quite that simple.” A ruddy blush crept upwards from Sierra’s pointed chin to her ebony hair, her voice rose an octave, and her long tapered fingers tightened around the glass. “It’s a bit more than a date.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a wonderfully romantic week at Frost Lake Lodge in the Rockies for you and your perfect match,” Sierra recited salesman pitch style.

“A week?” Jami clinked her glass onto the tabletop, lemonade sloshing out over the rim to drizzle down the sides and pool on the tablecloth.

“Yes.”

“Whatever for?” Jami felt certain her friend was weirding out.

“Our promotion.”

Sopping up the spill with a napkin, Jami never took her eyes off of Sierra. “I can’t leave Toby for a week.”

“Ty and I will pay for a babysitter.”

“You’re kidding.” Jami wadded up the soggy napkin and stomped across the kitchen to toss it in the garbage.

“Not kidding.”

“Good babysitters are rare enough. Who’s going to take care of my redheaded rascal that long?”

A sheepish expression crept over Sierra’s face. “Mrs. Porter?”

“No way. It would traumatize her to watch my son for two hours a day after school.” Jami stood behind the chair, her hands gripping the oak back. “Remember, Mrs. Porter’s past seventy? A week with Toby would kill the old dear.”

“Ty and I could take him. Ty’s been talking about starting a family.” Sierra glanced down at the table with embarrassment, as though she’d just admitted to sleeping in leather and handcuffs.

“Your husband will never want kids if he takes my adorable son for a week.” Jami raked her hands back through her hair. “And what about my shop? Who’ll run Dive-A-Wave?”

“You close the shop for lunch, don’t you?” Sierra asked as Jami nodded. “And you close nights, weekends, and holidays?”

“No biggie. Why?”

“Just close Dive-A-Wave while you’re gone.” Sierra drained the last of her lemonade and sat the glass on the table. “It’s not like you have customers beating down your door, is it?”

“True.” Never a hardcore businesswoman, Jami still felt uncertain about closing her shop for a week. Shaking her head, she paced back and forth across the checkered kitchen tile. “Is this whole thing necessary? Why not a simple date?”

“Ah, you remember that ad promotion where CupidKey promised to send a lucky computer-matched couple on a romantic trip?”

“Yes, a catchy campaign to launch your business.”

“Exactly. But our computer dating service is so new and then that setback resulted in losing our initial customers to other services.” Sierra shrugged in defeat. “Lost all suitable clients.”

“Then cancel the promotion.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“There’s a law that if a business offers a prize, it’s legally bound to present that prize.”

“So give the trip to someone else,” Jami retorted, twisting a lock of hair around her finger as she tried to ignore the desperate note in her friend’s voice.

“There isn’t anyone else.”

“Hasn’t anyone applied for a Cupid date since you got your replacement computer set-up?”

“A biker lady with a nose ring, platinum fuzz, and a full-body tattoo.” Sierra groaned. “I’m sure she’d be a real image-maker for our dating service.”

“Oh.” Jami’s mouth dropped open.

“Now you see the problem? We need a marketable couple for our ads.”

“Hmm, I have always wanted to see the Rocky Mountains.” Thoughts whirling, Jami spun around to face her friend. “I’ve never left Toby overnight. You guys will regret it.” Still, the tantalizing offer felt so tempting. “CupidKey is paying for the whole thing? You know I can’t afford it.”

“Cupid pays for everything. Ty worked us a deal.”

“I don’t know.” Jami felt herself wavering.

Sierra slyly added, “When was the last time someone offered