Book Clubbed Read Online Free

squeaky.
    â€œHi, Ginny!” Pixie called without looking up from her book.
    â€œHi, Pixie. How are you?”
    â€œJust Yankee Doodle dandy!” she said and, unfortunately, began to hum as she read. From the back of the store, Mr. Everett waved his lamb’s-wool duster in greeting and went back to work.
    Ginny inched closer to the sales desk. “I saw the police cars. Well, who could miss them? Rumor has it that Betsy Dittmeyer was killed this morning over at the Cookery.”
    â€œI’m afraid it’s true.”
    â€œBy a bookcase?” Ginny asked.
    Tricia nodded grimly. “Fully loaded.”
    â€œMessy,” Ginny said and winced.
    â€œYes,” Tricia agreed. She noted that Ginny’s eyes were bloodshot and her nose was red, although she didn’t sound like she had a cold. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”
    Ginny’s eyes filled with tears. “Have you got a couple of minutes to talk?”
    Tricia looked over at Pixie, who had turned to look their way. “Sure, Mr. E and I can hold down the fort,” Pixie said. As usual, she’d been eavesdropping.
    â€œCome on,” Tricia said and came out from behind the cash desk and wrapped an arm around Ginny’s shoulder. “We’ll go upstairs and have a nice cup of cocoa.”
    Ginny sniffed and allowed herself to be guided through the shop. Miss Marple joined them, scampering up the stairs, while Tricia and Ginny followed until they reached the third floor and Tricia’s loft apartment. Tricia unlocked the door and let them in. “Let me take your coat.”
    Ginny shrugged out of the sleeves of her coat, handing it to Tricia, who hung it on the coat tree by the door. She hurried over to the kitchen counter and filled the electric kettle with water, then got out mugs and packets of cocoa mix. “I hope you don’t mind instant. Of course, Angelica would make it from whole milk, and the finest Swiss ground chocolate.”
    â€œShe does tend to go overboard,” Ginny admitted, then dug for a tissue in the pocket of her skirt and blew her nose.
    â€œI’m afraid I don’t have much to serve a guest. I don’t really keep cookies or desserts up here. But we’ve got some thumbprint cookies down in the store. I could dash down and—”
    Ginny shook her head. “No, thanks. The last thing I need right now are more calories.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Tricia asked. “Have you and Antonio had a fight?”
    â€œOh, no. He’s the sweetest, nicest man in the world—well, apart from Mr. Everett. I love him to death. I’ve never had an unhappy minute with him.”
    â€œBut you don’t look very happy right now. Is it the job?” Tricia prompted, since Ginny didn’t seem to be in a hurry to explain.
    Again Ginny shook her head. Her gaze fell and her lower lip trembled, and then she nodded. “I guess it is my job I’m worried about.” She nodded once more. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I’m afraid I’m going to lose the Happy Domestic.”
    â€œWhy? I thought it was doing well. That you were in the black and your boss, Nigela Ricita, was very happy with your work.”
    â€œShe is. Or so Antonio tells me.”
    â€œThen what’s the problem?”
    The kettle chose that moment to come to a boil, and Tricia turned her attention to the cocoa at hand, pouring the water into the cups and mixing the contents with spoons. She grabbed a couple of paper napkins from the holder, set them on the kitchen island, and placed the mugs on them.
    Tricia waited, but Ginny didn’t seem able to meet her gaze.
    â€œGinny, please, tell me what’s wrong.”
    Ginny looked up, her eyes filling with tears, her face screwing into an expression of total misery. “I’m . . . I’m pregnant.”
    â€œPregnant?” Tricia cried and leapt forward to embrace her friend.