This would have to do for now, but she’d certainly have to step up her game, fashion-wise, once she started work at the ad agency. Back in Passcoe, she’d dressed much more casually for work, even wearing jeans on Fridays in the summer. Clearly, that wouldn’t work in Atlanta. She was in the big leagues now. And, she reflected ruefully, she was single again. Probably destined to stay that way, too.

When she arrived at the agency’s office suite, she had to wait a moment for her new boss, Joe Farnham, to meet her in the reception area.

“Annajane?” he said, looking a little flustered. “Aren’t you still working in Passcoe?”

“I came into town this morning on the spur of the moment,” she said. “Just thought I’d drop by and chat for a minute before I head back home to finish up my packing.”

“Come on back to my office,” Joe said, guiding her by the elbow. “I guess it’s just as well you’re here.”

When he was seated at his desk with his office door closed and with Annajane sitting across from him, Joe Capheart pulled a foil-wrapped roll of antacids from a desk drawer. He popped one in his mouth and silently handed one across to her.

Her stomach fluttered. News was coming, and it wasn’t gonna be good.

“I take it you haven’t talked to Davis today?” he asked, frowning.

“Uh, no,” she said. “It’s been a pretty crazy weekend at home. I left superearly this morning and haven’t had a chance to talk to Davis.”

“You’re gonna want to,” Joe said. He chewed the antacid silently and stared out the window. “They’ve put me in a hell of an awkward position here. Not to mention all the other repercussions.”

“What’s going on?” Annajane said, trying not to sound alarmed.

“The long and the short of it is, Quixie has pulled their account.”

She chewed the antacid furiously for a moment, while she let the news settle in. “Since when?” she asked, when she could speak again. “That’s crazy. I talked to Mason yesterday, and he didn’t say anything like that.”

“Davis e-mailed me about fifteen minutes ago,” Joe said glumly. “I haven’t even told the rest of the partners yet. An e-mail—you believe that? After all the years the agency’s done business with them?”

“Did he give you a reason?” Annajane asked, still dumbfounded. “I mean, Joe, I was just in the office yesterday, going over the new summer promotion plans. Davis had signed off on all of it.”

“This came from out of the blue! As far as I knew, we were golden,” Joe said. “Thirty years we’ve been working on the Quixie account. I was just a junior copywriter when Glenn Bayless hired us, and Davis, the little prick—excuse my language, Annajane—was barely potty-trained. All his e-mail today said was that there were some new developments in the company’s ownership. Do you have any idea what that’s supposed to mean?”

She felt a chill go down her spine. “All I know is that Jax Snax has indicated they’re going to tender an offer to buy Quixie. Mason is totally opposed to a sale. And so is his sister. But Davis has been actively agitating for it.”

“What about Sallie?” Joe asked urgently.

“According to Mason, she’s been on the fence.”

Joe crumpled up a piece of paper and tossed it into the trash. “Sounds to me like maybe she fell off that fence.”

Annajane took a deep breath. “What does this mean for the agency?”

“It’s a huge punch in the gut, of course,” Joe said. “Quixie was one of our biggest accounts. I’m gonna try and talk to Davis, and Mason, if I can. But if we don’t retain that account, well, that changes everything.”

“Including my hire?” She kept her tone deliberately neutral, calm.

“I’m afraid so,” Joe said. “We’ll still pay for your moving expenses, of course, and any other out-of-pocket expenses you’ve incurred, but without the Quixie account, we’ll have to do some major reshuffling around here.”

“I see,” Annajane said. She stood up and held out a hand to Joe Farnham. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Son of a bitch!” he growled. “This isn’t right. It just isn’t. I wish there was something more I could do. We were all really looking forward to having you join the team, Annajane. I told Davis, right before we offered you the position, he’d be crazy to let you walk away.”

Annajane turned, startled. “You talked to Davis about hiring me? Not Mason?”

Joe shrugged. “It was Davis’s idea. I mean, if I’d known you were thinking of leaving Quixie, I’d have snapped you up in a minute anyway, but yeah, he mentioned in passing that he thought you’d be uncomfortable staying at the company after Mason got serious with that consultant of theirs.”

“Celia,” she said. “Her name is Celia.” And her grimy mitts were all over this little maneuver, Annajane thought.

*   *   *

As much as she dreaded going back home, Annajane knew she had no choice. Celia had laid down the gauntlet, and it was too late now to back away from a fight. Before leaving Capheart’s parking lot, she called the leasing office for the apartment she’d rented to let them know she wouldn’t be moving in after all, and got the not-unexpected news that she would be forfeiting the first and last month’s rent that she’d already paid.

She called Pokey as soon as she’d cleared Atlanta traffic and was back on the interstate, headed to Passcoe. “What’s going on up there?” she demanded.

“Let’s see. Where do you want me to start?” Pokey said. “I think the right rear tire on my Range Rover has a nail in it. Petey has a weird rash all over his body; and Clayton has decided he does not want to be potty-trained, which means he might still be in Pull-Ups in junior high; and, oh yeah, Mama announced a little while ago that she’s just fine with selling Quixie to some outfit in Tenafly, New Jersey, that makes jalapeño cheese–stuffed microwaveable tater tots.”

“Oh, God,” Annajane moaned. “How? Why?”

A loud scream pierced the air from the other end of the phone.

“Hang on a second, will ya?”

Annajane heard the sounds of footsteps, and then the sound of water flushing, and then childish shrieks. “Denning Riggs!” Pokey yelled. “Do not dunk your little brother in the toilet. I don’t care if he does smell like poopie. No! I mean it. Put him down this instant.”

Pokey came back on the line and sighed. “What was I thinking having all these kids? One more is gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You love it,” Annajane said, laughing despite the seriousness of the current situation.

“As I was saying, it seems that my darling brother Davis has somehow managed to pull another fast one on us,” Pokey said. “And I’ll just bet the formidable Celia has been bending Mama’s ear, too. She’s spent a lot of time over at Cherry Hill these past few weeks, in the guise of making wedding plans, sucking up to Mama.”

“So that’s it for Quixie? It’s a done deal?” Annajane asked.

“Not quite yet,” Pokey said. “Mama claims she doesn’t want to do anything unless all of us are one hundred percent on board.”

“Well, that’s something,” Annajane said. “Have you talked to Mason about any of this?”

“Not yet,” Pokey said. “The shit literally just hit the fan. I’ve called the office and left a message with Voncile to have him call me, and I left him a voice mail on his cell, but I’m sure he’s up to his ass in alligators right now. And speaking of which, how did Shane handle your true confession?”

“He said the right thing for all the wrong reasons. I’m more messed up now than I’ve ever been.”

“You’re gonna have to spell this out for me, hon,” Pokey said. “I’ve got baby brain already.”

“We’re not getting married,” Annajane said. “I broke it off with Shane.”

“Yippee! I mean, oh, that’s too bad,” Pokey said. “You sound pretty okay though.”

“Definitely not okay. Shell-shocked,” Annajane corrected. “But that’s not all. I’m having a hell of a morning my ownself. After I left the cabin I went to see my new boss, Joe, at Farnham-Capheart. Who greeted me with the news that I don’t have a job there after all, because Davis e-mailed him this morning that Quixie is pulling the account from the agency.”