A Matter of Choice by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online

customers. He's much better with bookkeeping and inventory. Michael and I can handle the buying and selling."
    "Michael." Before he drank again, Slade repeated the name as though it meant nothing.
    "Michael does almost all my buying, all the imports at any rate."
    "You don't buy the stock yourself?"
    "Not from overseas, not anymore." Jessica toyed with the last half of her sandwich. "If I'd tried to keep up with it, I wouldn't have been able to keep the shop open year round. Watching out for estate sales and auctions just in the New England area takes me away from the shop enough as it is. And Michael... Michael has a real genius for finding gems."
    He wondered if her analogy was fact. Was Michael Adams shipping gems as well as Hepplewhites across the Atlantic?
    "Michael's been handling that part of the business for nearly three years," Jessica went on. "And he's not only a good buyer, but a terrific salesman. Particularly with my female clientele." She laughed as she lifted her cup. "He's very smooth--both looks and manner."
    Slade noted the affection in her voice and speculated. Just how much was between owner and buyer? he wondered. If Adams was involved in smuggling, and Jessica's lover... His thoughts trailed off as he looked down at her hands. She wore a thin, twisted band of gold on her right hand and a star-shaped group of opals on her left. The sun hit the stones, shooting little flames of red into the delicate blue. It suited her, he thought, taking another swig of beer.
    "In any case, I've gotten spoiled." Jessica stretched her shoulders with a sigh. "It's been a long time since I've had to run the shop alone.
    I'll be glad to have both Michael and David back next week. I might even take Uncle Charlie up on his invitation."
    "Uncle Charlie?"
    Her cup paused halfway to her lips. "Uncle Charlie," Jessica repeated, puzzled. "He sent you."
    Slade gave a quick silent oath as he shrugged. "The commissioner," he said blandly. "I don't think of him as Uncle Charlie."
    "The commissioner's awfully formal." Still frowning at him, Jessica set down her cup.
    She's not a fool, Slade concluded as he swung an arm over the back of his chair. "I always call him that. Habit. Don't you like to travel?" He changed the subject neatly, adding a quick, disarming smile. "I'd think the buying end would be half the fun."
    "It can be. It can also be a giant headache. Airports and auctions and customs." The line between her brows vanished. "I have been thinking about combining a business and pleasure trip next spring. I want to visit my mother and her husband in France."
    "Your mother remarried?"
    "Yes, it's been wonderful for her. After my father died, she was so lost. We both were," she murmured. And after nearly five years, she mused, there was still an ache. It was dull with time, but it was still there.
    "There's nothing harder than to lose someone you loved and lived with and depended on. Especially when you think that person is indestructible; then he's taken away with no warning."
    Her voice had thickened, touching off a chord of response in him. "I know," he answered before he thought.
    Her eyes came up and fixed on his. "Do you?"
    He didn't like the emotion she stirred up in him. "My father was a cop,"
    he answered curtly. "He was killed in action five years ago."
    "Oh, Slade." Jessica reached for his hand. "How terrible--how terrible for your mother."
    "Wives of cops learn to live with the risk." He moved his hand back to his beer.
    Sensing withdrawal, Jessica said nothing. He wasn't a man to share emotion of any kind easily. She rose, stacking plates. "Do you want something else? I imagine there're cookies stashed around here somewhere."
    She wouldn't probe, he realized, wouldn't eulogize. She'd offered him her sympathy, then had backed off when she'd seen that it wasn't wanted.
    Slade sighed. It was difficult enough to deal with his attraction to her without starting to like her as well.
    "No." He rose to help her clear the