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Ginnie s gleaming trunk into a large Dumpster.
Oh!
She d spotted it. Harry shut his eyes.
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Christina Crooks
How could he do this? At least now she sounded more angry than devastated. Into the trash!
Harry spoke with the client who d waved him over, a well-to-do private investigator, while Ginnie
circled the Dumpster. Did anyone see the guy who did it?
The man shook his head and spoke with deferential softness. Sorry, Mr. Sharpe. My buddies have
two cars out looking for the gold sport wagon the neighbor described. And I ve put the word out about your
generous reward for information. Now, I ve got to go meet a client in the Southeast. Sounds like the police
are on the way. Unless you need help with anything else?
Cold drizzle iced Harry s face as he shook his head. No, thanks. I appreciate your assistance. I can
handle it from here. He hoped he could. His impulse was to fix what was wrong, but Ginnie s emotions
were beyond his ability to fix. Women s emotions were strange and confusing territory for him. Until now,
he hadn t wanted to understand them.
At least there were a few things he could fix.
He made another call.
He reached for her as she passed him. Hey. He missed, brushing her arm with his fingertips, then
leaned farther and encircled her forearm as she went by wringing her hands and looking both pissed and
desperately upset. Ginnie. Hey. Hold up.
What. She stopped, at least. With one hand, she violently wiped damp curls off her face. I have to
get the trunk out of the trash. I have to get everything together. I have to
You have to hush. And let me help. You have more important things to think about. Like your
career.
He could have bitten his tongue when she turned a stricken expression on him. I d forgotten about
that. Oh, man, how could I have forgotten I was fired? That s huge. My career is over. For good. I m a total
failure at everything.
You re not a failure.
Am too. I ve been rejected by everyone. My dad, who abandoned me and my mom. Then there s my
mom. I m pretty sure she s always blamed me for Dad s taking off. Rick, who never wanted me until I was
leaving and who now hates me enough to do this. She flicked a hand toward the pile of puppetry stuff.
And Helping Hands. And you. You only wanted me for one night. I m not good enough for more.
She should just stick a knife in his heart. It would hurt less. Ginnie, that was different.
Why? I m seeing a pattern here. Nothing against you. It s not you, it s me. She laughed. Harry
didn t like the sound of it.
He was tempted to grab her and shake some sense into her, but managed to restrain himself. She d
had a shock. It s actually not you. Not with me, and not with the people in charge at Helping Hands. Just
because they didn t like your management style, and just because you re the newest and easiest to let go,
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Hands On
that doesn t mean you re not cut out for the business of puppetry. I ve seen you with marionettes. You have
a gift. Now you just need to figure out how to turn that gift into a career.
How?
He thought desperately. What would he do, if he were her? Start somewhere small and secure,
maybe. Set achievable goals, working with an eye toward the kind of job that offers financial security. Earn
a paycheck at a crafts store, or a nine-to-five temporary position or somewhere like that, and get some
volunteer experience with established artists? I don t know the career path for a marionette artist, but I
know what I saw last week. You have talent.
Then why does everyone reject me? Everyone thinks I m a big b-b-
Bitch? he said helpfully.
Her tear-filled glare filled him with remorse and a nearly irresistible desire to go down on his knees
and beg her pardon. Or do something more fun.
He compromised. Easing closer so that his arms could prevent her escape if she chose to bolt, he said,
You re not a bitch. You re nowhere near being a bitch, and believe me, I know what I m talking about.
You re just& stubborn. Strong-willed. Not always sufficiently sensible, maybe.
She looked bleak, but at least she wasn t making any sudden moves. Not sensible. My mother always
said that. She breathed deeply, clearly straining for calm.
This is the same mom that gave your ex your new address? Harry shook his head. She was foolish
to do that. She s the one who s not sensible. Now, the first thing you need to do is take care of yourself.
No, the first thing I need to do is retrieve my stuff and see that it doesn t get stolen again. She
looked fierce, a mother bear protecting her young. And then her eyes narrowed. Um, Harry? Who are all
those men in uniforms?
Just a few helpers. The moving company I used to get Jaye Rae s things out of my house did such a
fast job that I ve kept in touch, recommending their services to friends and clients. Harry barely glanced at
the five men threading belts under the trunk in the Dumpster, or the others carefully lifting puppet parts and
other theater bits from where they lay on the ground. He waved to one, a brusque acknowledgement.
They re conscientious workers. Ginnie, would you please move back into my house?
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