Button Holed by Kylie Logan Read Free Book Online Page A

luck.
    He followed right along.
    “So . . .” One of Homolka’s eyebrows slid up his forehead. “What’s it like working with Kate the Great? And what did she say about that wedding gown of hers? Did she look at white buttons? Ivory buttons? Or is she going to be less traditional and go with a color?”
    When I sat down on one of the park benches the local merchants had donated to our little courtyard oasis and didn’t answer, he leaned in closer and lowered his voice, like he was sharing a secret. “Hey, honey, I’ve got people who are willing to pay for this information. You’re a businesswoman. You understand, right? You can’t blame me for trying.”
    “I can’t.” I opened the bag with my sandwich in it, took one look inside, and changed my mind. Somehow, being with Homolka had robbed me of my appetite. “But you can’t blame someone who has a professional relationship with someone else for refusing to betray a confidence.”
    “Is that what it is? A confidence? So, she wants you to keep it all hush-hush? Of course she does. That’s just like Kate. She knows the more she keeps those luscious lips of hers shut, the more people will talk about what she might be thinking. See, she’s a smart businesswoman, too.”
    I reclosed the bag.
    “Kate loves the spotlight,” he said. “And oh, how she loves letting us take her picture. But then when any of us tries to get her to talk so we can get our stories straight and make sure we’re publishing nothin’ but the truth, she clams up like one of them marble statues. Claims it’s all about her right to privacy. That’s why stuff gets published sometimes that isn’t quite . . . well . . . stuff that isn’t totally true. But you . . .” Homolka looked me up and down, and I felt a chill. “With your help, I won’t have to make anything up, and then my editor won’t end up printing a bunch of lies. So you see what I’m getting at here, right? Talk to me, and you’ll be doing Kate a favor in the long run. The truth will get out, and no one will have to speculate.”
    I knew whatever I said, my words were going to be twisted around and turned into a quote I wouldn’t want to see in the papers any more than I wanted to see that photo of my butt again. I stood. But apparently, even a closemouthed button dealer wasn’t enough to put off a guy as pushy as Homolka. When I made my way back down the redbrick alley and onto North Wells, he was right behind me.
    “You’re working late.” He tried one last ploy. He’d obviously been on this sort of fishing expedition a couple billion times before, and he knew that according to the law of averages, the normal person would eventually cave.
    What he didn’t know was that I’m not normal.
    Not when it comes to this sort of schmoozing, anyway.
    There was Kaz, after all.
    “Seems funny that you’d be working late the same week Kate was here to visit. I mean, if she already ordered buttons from you, that sale would be all wrapped up, right? And you wouldn’t need to still be hanging around. Unless she’s coming back, of course. This evening?”
    I was back in front of the Button Box, and I tossed him a look that would have warned a smarter man to back off.
    “I’ll pay you a thousand dollars if you’ll talk to me.”
    I guess he wasn’t one of those smarter men. I froze and turned to stare at Homolka, but only because I was so knocked for a loop by his offer, I needed time to process it. Processing over, I whirled around the other way, anxious to get into the shop, praying he wouldn’t be bold enough to follow, and worried about what Kate would say (and do) if she got there and found Mike Homolka lying in wait for her. I couldn’t tell him to go away. That would only make him more suspicious. But I hated the thought of Kate getting ambushed.
    Torn between appealing to Mike’s human side and wondering if human and paparazzi were oxymorons, I turned one last time when I had my hand on the shop door. He had