Page 30 of Gentle Persuasion

Doug Randall kept one eye on his sister and the other on the sales clerk. If that prissy guy brought out any more coordinating pinks and greens, he was leaving. He’d wear white shirts to work every day before he’d button on something sissy.

When Doug wasn’t looking, Debbie grinned. It was something to see him well groomed and successful. She’d spent too many years worrying if he’d ever amount to anything other than a sometime mechanic and a full-time biker. He’d been Clinton, Oklahoma’s, most avid proponent of black leather and Harleys. It had nearly been her undoing.

Somewhere between the age of seventeen and now, Doug had grown up and out of that phase. She’d been constantly thankful ever since.

“You think you’re going to like your new job?” Debbie watched her brother’s glare send the salesman scurrying back to the racks for another color of shirt.

“The job’s not new, Deb. Just the location.”

Douglas frowned. She was so pale. And when he’d first seen the bruises on her face, he’d been livid. He’d been all ready to go out and search the streets of Laguna Beach for the creep until she’d calmly informed him that there was already an entire police force on her side. She’d claimed they didn’t need his help. It hadn’t made him feel much better.

“You could come with me,” he persisted. It had been the subject of most of their conversation the entire afternoon. “I’ve already got a two-bedroom apartment in what I’m told is the ‘better’ part of L.A.” He grinned wryly. “If L.A. has a better part, I’ve yet to see it.”

“You’re too country, Douglas. There’s much to be said for city living.” She ignored his frown. “And for the last time, I’m not moving in with my little brother—” she raised her eyebrows as he flexed his arms in a none-too-subtle reminder of who was really the smaller “—no matter what he says. Besides, think of your love life.”

He flushed and grinned. “I don’t have one…yet.”

“Exactly,” she said. “And I’d like to see how fast it progressed with your sister in the next room.”

“Still—” he persisted.

“Still nothing,” she argued. “Now hush. The clerk’s coming back. Oooh, Douglas, I think I like that one.” She pointed to the shirt the sales clerk was carrying.

“It still looks sorta pink to me,” Douglas frowned.

“Oh no,” the clerk said, “this is just a shade darker than mauve and two shades lighter than raspberry. It’s in vogue. Trust me.”

“Sounds like I should eat it, not wear it,” Douglas growled. And then they both laughed at the look on the clerk’s face.

“We’ll take it,” Debbie said.

***

Cole was furious. After the clothing stores, they’d gone into a shoe store and then a specialty shop that carried elegant men’s accessories. He’d parked close enough to watch them take several expensive ties to the register and then watched as Debbie tried to pay for them.

What was the matter with her? When they came out of this store, he was making his move. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when he walked up!

***

“Hey, Sis,” Douglas Randall muttered. “I’ve just noticed that same damned car again. The last three places we’ve stopped, it’s been outside. Once down the street, the last time across the street, and now there it’s sitting right outside in plain sight.”

“I know,” she said, calmly matching ties to the shirts inside the sacks he was carrying.

“It might be that nut who hurt you. I’ve half a mind to—”

“It’s Cole.”

“It’s who?” Then understanding dawned. “You mean that’s the guy who—?”

“That’s the one.”

“What the hell you suppose he’s doing?”

“Following me.” She held up a tie. “What do you think? This print’s not too fussy and it picks up the mauve pinstripe rather nicely, don’t you agree?”

“Whatever.” Doug shrugged. “I don’t know ties from shoelaces, and you know it. Why do you think I came so far out of my way to get your advice?”

“To check up on me, just like that man out there. You’re both just alike.”

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