Good Night, Gracie

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue

“IT’S OVER.”

The words she’d been dreading to hear rang in Gracie Dawson’s ears. It’s over. Her dreams of attending law school—of finally embarking on a life of her own—were over. Goliath had won again.

“I knew those biddies at the historical society would reject us.” Cat Sheehan mixed drinks behind the mahogany bar while Cat’s sister Laine sat shell-shocked on a bar stool between Gracie and waitress Tess Applegate.

As usual, the bar was empty of customers. Temptation was owned by the Sheehan sisters and housed in the same old brick building as Between the Covers, the bookstore Gracie had inherited from her aunt. Recent road construction had caused business to dwindle at both establishments, but that didn’t make accepting their loss any easier.

This time Goliath had come in the form of city hall, with plans to demolish the building in order to widen the street. Appealing to the Kendall Historical Society to have the building declared a landmark had been their last hope.

Temptation was like a second home to Gracie and these women like a second family. She’d let them down. Just as she’d let down her aunt Fran, unable to challenge the insurance company that had refused to cover all the medical expenses incurred during her decade-long fight against kidney disease. They’d gone to lawyers for help, but none of them had been willing to take on the sprawling legal department of a huge corporation.

That made them gutless wonders in Gracie’s estimation. She’d heard too many stories of people like her aunt at the mercy of bureaucrats and pencil-pushers. Gracie was ready to do some pushing herself—or shoving, as the case may be. But she needed a law degree first and that took time and money. Both would be in short supply now that she’d be forced to relocate the bookstore.

But she believed in loyalty—and keeping promises. Before her aunt had died, she’d told Gracie that as long as Between the Covers existed, a part of her would live, too. Gracie had vowed to keep her legacy alive.

She owed Aunt Fran that much.

Anger flared inside of her at the unfairness of it all. Her aunt had died eleven months ago, worn-out from the struggle of battling both the disease and the bill collectors whom she just managed to satisfy. She’d left everything to Gracie. The house. The bookstore. Her prized collection of Harlequin romance novels. Though she’d never married, Fran Dawson had been a romantic at heart.

Gracie had come to live with her in Kendall, Texas, when she was fifteen years old, after her parents had answered a call to become missionaries. Adjusting to life in Kendall had been difficult at first, made even more so by the tight cliques at her new high school. Losing herself in all those romance books had helped ease the transition.

So had Gilbert Holloway, the high school’s resident computer geek, who had become her best friend. They’d spent most of their free time together watching vintage comedy shows on television and making big plans to attend the same college somewhere on the East Coast after graduation.

Then her aunt had been diagnosed with kidney disease and Gracie’s plans had drastically changed. Chronically ill, Fran had depended on her for care and to help run Between the Covers. Gracie had never told anyone how much she’d missed going off to college like the rest of her classmates.

Just like she’d never told anyone how much she hated the bookstore.

Except for Gilbert.

He’d left for Boston after graduation and never looked back. For the past ten years, they’d corresponded almost daily by e-mail, his messages like a lifeline to her as her aunt’s condition had worsened. He let her whine and rant and worry without judging her. Gilbert was the only man who understood her. The only man who knew how much her dreams meant to her.

Perhaps that’s why she had so much trouble meeting men in Texas. Even while taking night classes over the past ten years to obtain her bachelor’s degree, dates had been few and far between. None of the men she met ever lived up to Gilbert.

Maybe he was just safe. A man she could dream about without ever having to follow through. And dream she did, though Gilbert would never know about those fantasies. That was the one thing about her life that she didn’t share with him.

Though she’d done plenty of looking, Gracie had never found a local version of Gilbert. She hadn’t seen him in over a decade, but he was still the example she measured other men by.

Not that she’d done a lot of measuring lately. Running the bookstore didn’t leave much time for a social life. This latest news meant putting everything in her life on hold indefinitely.

So be it. She wasn’t about to surrender to the Goliaths of this world. Gracie Dawson would find a way to survive. She always did.

Laine visibly deflated beside her, making Gracie realize she’d only been thinking about herself. Temptation had been in the Sheehan family for over twenty years, handed down to the sisters by their mother, Brenda. Cat ran the bar while Laine worked full-time as a magazine photographer. They loved Temptation as much as she hated the bookstore.

“The city wants a new road, so we’re out,” Cat said, breaching the silence. She looked over at Gracie. “Did you really think we’d change anything tonight?”

Despite knowing it was a long shot, Gracie had counted on it. Which was ridiculous, since nothing in her life ever turned out as she planned. At twenty-eight, she was certainly old enough to know that by now. It was time to start coping with reality.

“Where am I going to store all those books if I can’t find a new place in thirty days?” she wondered aloud.

Nobody had any answers for her. Gracie knew she’d have to use every cent of her savings to make this move once she found a new location. A place that would undoubtedly charge higher rent for the bookstore than she was paying now. Add to that the advertising dollars needed to retain their old customers, as well as garnering new ones, and the task seemed overwhelming.

“How will I find another job as good as this one?” Tess asked. She’d hired on as a waitress a year ago, forming a fast friendship with Gracie, Cat and Laine.

Gracie wished she could offer Tess a position at the bookstore, but she’d be lucky to retain her assistant manager, Trina Powers, once they moved the store. Her budget had already been sliced and diced to the bare bones.

Laine looked up at her sister. “How are we going to explain this to Mom?”

Tess reached over and patted her hand. “Brenda will understand. She’ll be pissed but she’ll deal with it.”

Angry tears gleamed in Laine’s eyes. “I just can’t believe it.”

Cat pushed a cosmopolitan toward each of them. “Had faith in the system, Lainey dear?”

“Yes, I did,” Laine replied, crushing the letter in her hand. “This isn’t right. How can they just take away everything we’ve worked for?”

“Because they can.” Gracie took a sip of her drink, knowing this news had them all reeling—even Cat. She was just better at hiding it than the rest of them. They were at the mercy of the people in charge, powerless to change anything now.

She hated that feeling. That’s why becoming a lawyer had been her dream for so long. She wanted to make a difference in peoples’ lives.

Gracie watched Laine get up and turn away, making her wish she could have done something to make this situation turn out differently. It had been her idea to approach the Kendall Historical Society, hoping her exhaustive research into the history of the old building would sway them enough to name it a landmark. She’d handed it all over to Laine to make the presentation, but Gracie obviously hadn’t given her enough ammunition.

Gracie slipped off the barstool and walked over to Laine, then put her arm around her shoulder. “This isn’t your fault.”

A bitter smile flickered on Laine’s mouth. “Sure it is. If I’d talked to the right person, made the right argument…”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. The city would still be steamrolling over our businesses.”

“Maybe.”