Josie Day Is Coming Home

JOSIE DAY IS COMING
HOME

by

Lisa Plumley

* * * * *

previously published by Kensington Publishing

Her name was Josie, she was a
showgirl…

…until the night she Heimliched a martini olive out
of fabulously wealthy and eccentric casino owner Tallulah Carlyle. Now Josie
Day—proud new owner of one of Tallulah’s spare estates—is leaving Vegas behind
for…Donovan’s Corner, Arizona? Ironically, her “reward” has brought
her right back to the dusty hometown she thought she’d left behind forever.
Still, Josie’s ready to prove there’s more to her than feathers and a wicked
rumba. She plans to sell the old mansion and use the profits to open a dance
school. But first, she’ll have to figure out some fancy footwork to avoid
knocking heads—and other things—with caretaker and local bad boy Luke
Donovan…

It isn’t every day a woman like Josie comes strutting
into town—which is fortunate, since her presence on the estate has Luke hotter
and more bothered than he’s been since, well, ever. He’s a little annoyed with
his Aunt Tallulah, though. This was supposed to be his property to renovate and
sell—an opportunity to make good after being cut off from the family fortune.
But Josie doesn’t have to know that…at least not until Luke figures out a way
to make both their dreams come true—and prove that Vegas isn’t the only place
where taking a chance can change everything…

* * * * *

Copyright © 2012 by
Lisa Plumley

This ebook is licensed for your personal
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your own copy. Thank you!

* * * * *

USA TODAY best-selling author Lisa Plumley has delighted readers worldwide with more than three dozen popular novels. Her work has been translated into multiple languages and editions, and includes contemporary romances, western historical romances, paranormal romances, and a variety of stories in romance anthologies. Her fresh, funny style has been likened to such reader favorites as Rachel Gibson, Susan Elizabeth Phillips, LaVyrle Spencer, and Jennifer Crusie, but her unique characterization is all her own.

Lisa lives in sunny
Arizona with her husband and two children. In her free time she reads romances
and research books by the dozen, practices yoga, and spends time with her
family—hiking in the mountains and deserts of Arizona, visiting ghost towns and
historical sites, traveling, reading, and watching classic movies.

Visit with Lisa at her website,
www.lisaplumley.com
, follow her on Twitter
@LisaPlumley
, connect with her official Facebook page at
www.facebook.com/lisaplumleybooks
, or circle her on Google+ at
www.google.com/+Lisaplumley
today!

Lisa also writes cozy mysteries as 
Colette London
. Her Chocolate Whisperer mystery series featuring globe-trotting chocolatier (and amateur sleuth!) Hayden Mundy Moore begins with
Criminal Confections
and continues with
Dangerously Dark
, both from Kensingon Books. Visit 
www.colettelondon.com
 today to sign up for updates on Colette’s books, catch all the news on 
Facebook
, follow Colette on 
Twitter
 or circle Colette on 
Google+
 .

JOSIE
DAY IS COMING HOME

by

Lisa Plumley

Some days, a girl just didn’t feel like shimmying into her
rhinestones, feathers, and spandex, and going to work. For Josie Day, the first
Friday in April was one of those days.

Maybe it was because it was April Fool’s Day. On a day like
that, living in Sin City—aka, Las Vegas—felt like one big “gotcha!”
Maybe it was because, as a showgirl at Enchanté, she was required to hand out
comped tickets on the casino floor an hour before each show—decked out in a
full headdress, false eyelashes, and the rest of her regalia. Appearing
offstage in costume was not her favorite thing. It only attracted trouble—not
to mention stares, whispers, and drunken, pinching bozos who found her butt a
prime target.

Sure. Those were likely reasons for the weird feeling of
discontent she’d been experiencing all day. So were raving PMS and the
high-heel blister on her big toe. But it was more than that, Josie thought as
she gazed wistfully across Enchanté‘s glittering, flashing, noisemaking gaming
floor. For months now, she’d been battling a niggling sensation of…restlessness.
Of uneasiness. Even, at times, of loneliness.

Which was ridiculous. She was surrounded by people all day
and
all night. At the moment there were approximately one thousand gamblers,
gawkers, and wide-eyed tourists all around her. She couldn’t possibly be
lonely. Especially in the midst of the glamorous life—so purposefully removed
from her old life—she’d always craved and had finally made for herself.

But there it was. Undeniable. Inexplicable. And only partly
drowned out by the clatter of slot machines shooting quarters into their payout
trays nearby. No matter how hard Josie tried to ignore this edgy feeling, it
always came back.

Lately it grew in ferocity each time it returned. Sort of
like the Snickers cravings she tried to quash with fat-free Chocolate Fantasy
frozen yogurt (the fantasy being that it actually tasted like chocolate) in
order to meet her show-mandated, contractually binding weight range.

Was it unhappiness?

Nah
. Instantly, Josie shot down the thought. She
couldn’t possibly be unhappy here in the glitzy Las Vegas life she’d worked so
hard for. It had to be something else. Something like…a constant G-string
wedgie. She’d had one for the past six years, ever since she’d made the cut to
join the cast of the Glamorous Nights Revue. That would’ve gotten on anybody’s
nerves. Right?

Right. So Josie put her worries out of her mind. She handed
out her last pair of show tickets to two fanny pack-wearing tourists, then
headed backstage to the showgirls’ communal dressing room.

As usual, everyone was getting ready for the seven o’clock
show—the first of two back-to-back performances for the night. Some dancers
stood nearby talking. Others limbered up, wearing track pants and zip-up
hoodies over their costumes. The rest lingered in front of their assigned
“stations”—lighted makeup mirrors and chairs arranged along a shared
Formica vanity. They’d all been lucky enough
not
to have been assigned
rope-in-the-tourists duty in the casino today.

Josie’s spot was a small one, wedged beside a rack of
shimmery beaded costumes. She squeezed onto the chair in front of her
Hollywood-style makeup mirror, glad to have “pinch duty” over with.
Once men entered a dark casino and knocked back a few cocktails, they all felt
entitled to grope a showgirl.

Sure, it was all in keeping with Vegas’s new tourism slogan:
“What Happens Here, Stays Here.” But it was galling, all the same.
She was a regular person. A normal person. A person who recycled, who wore
sunscreen, who treated people with respect and occasionally told knock-knock
jokes. When she was grocery shopping off The Strip, men didn’t feel compelled
to reach in her cart and squeeze her melons. But at work…. At work it was a
different story.

Sighing, Josie elbowed aside a jumble of eye shadows,
hairpins, and roll-on body adhesive used to secure costumes. The smells of hair
spray and false eyelash glue hung sharp in the air. She inhaled deeply, trying
to bolster her spirits. Those unique fragrances—along with the bustle
backstage—reminded her she’d really done it. She’d made it. She’d escaped
Donovan’s Corner and become a professional dancer. Just as she’d always
dreamed.

Beside Josie, Parker Yates plopped breathlessly onto the
nearest vanity chair. Late, as usual. She grabbed her waist-length ponytail
fall.

“What did I miss?” she asked as she pinned on the
fake platinum hair—a near perfect match for her own—then wound it in a topknot.
“Give me the whole scoop.”

“Okay. But first…knock, knock.”

Parker rolled her eyes. “You and your jokes. Okay. I
might die of gossip deprivation in the meantime, but…. Who’s there?”

Josie loved this routine. After the day she’d had, she
needed it. With relish, she said, “Dwayne.”

“Dwayne who?”

“Dwayne the tub. I’m dwowning! Ha!”

They both giggled. Josie was a sucker for a cheesy knock-knock
joke, and Parker…. Parker was her most frequent audience.

“Better than the last one you came up with,” she
said, nodding. “Okay. On with the dirt-dishing. Is Jacqueline on the
warpath? Did Ashley make her weigh-in? Are Marco and Ty still fighting? Tell me
everything
.”

“In the ten minutes between now and show time?”

Parker rolled her eyes impatiently. “I had time for
that joke, you have time to fill me in. Hit the highlights. I feel as if I’ve
been lost in the wilderness for a month.”

“You were only gone for a week.”

“Tell that to my ass. I think it’s gone numb. Turns
out, Thad suckered me into a fishing trip in disguise. I
still
smell
like trout.”

Parker and her boyfriend Thad, another Enchanté dancer, had
been vacationing on a rented houseboat at Lake Mead. Josie couldn’t quite
picture her elegant blond friend “roughing it.” But apparently when
it came to true love, all bets were off.

Josie made a sympathetic face. “A little tomato juice
in your next bath and that smell will come right out.”

Parker looked at her oddly. “Should I add a celery
stick and a hit of Worcestershire, too? I’m not a Bloody Mary.”

Whoops. Sometimes Josie forgot to keep up with her new life.
Showgirls in Las Vegas were glamorous. They didn’t bathe in tomato juice, like
her childhood mutt, Squeegie, had when he’d bumped into a backyard skunk.
Literally.

“I’ll just pop into the spa later,” Parker
continued, fiddling with her fishnet stockings. “A nice aromatherapy scrub
will fix me right up.” She grabbed her costume’s headpiece and a mouthful
of hairpins, then set to work anchoring the red feathered contraption to her
head. “So, what’s the dirt?”

“Okay.” Settling in for a good dish session, Josie
ticked off the answers to Parker’s questions. “Yes, that new choreography
has everybody tied in knots. Jacqueline isn’t happy. Yes, Ashley made it with
two pounds to spare. And yes. The latest drama happened yesterday. Marco
completely freaked out when Ty cut off the fringe on his chaps. You know, the
faux leather ones for the ‘Way Out West’ number?”

Parker’s guileless blue eyes widened. She was, Josie noticed
for the zillionth time, effortlessly beautiful in a way Josie could never hope
to be. Not with her rambunctious red hair, affection for enchiladas, and big
feet. But hey—all those things made her who she was. She wasn’t complaining.

“No!” Parker said. “All the fringe? Marco
must have been
crazed
!
”

“He was. But he retaliated by putting superglue on Ty’s
prop cowboy hat. Since then, nothing.” She shrugged. “I guess they
feel as though they’re even.”

“
Superglue
? That explains Ty’s new buzz
cut.”

Josie nodded. “Mmm-hmm.” Thanks to the mishmash of
showgirl and showboy personalities, things were never dull behind the scenes.

“Ah. It’s so nice to be back in the bosom of our own
little dysfunctional family.” Looking satisfied, Parker squinted in the
mirror. She applied more lipstick. “It’s sweet, really. Back home I
never—”

“Five minutes, everybody!” the show’s producer
yelled.

“Yikes. I’ve got to change.” Parker scrambled for
her costume—all three feathers, four triangles of fabric, and six gazillion
rhinestones of it. Matter-of-factly, she got herself outfitted. There was no
point in modesty backstage. “Toss me my shoes, will you?”

Josie handed over the gold high-heeled Mary Janes all the
girls wore in the first number—a Busby Berkeley-style routine with singing,
dancing, and lots of feathered fan waving. She wished Parker had finished
whatever she’d been about to say.

Back home I never….

Never what? Although they were friends, Parker never confided
much about her past. She changed the subject whenever Josie asked. In fact,
when it came to talking about herself, Parker was nearly as closemouthed as
Josie was.

Oh, well. If there was one thing Josie understood, it was
not wanting to revisit the past. She’d left hers behind her. That was exactly
where she intended to keep it.

The moment the music started, Josie’s spirits lifted. By the
time she heard her cue and stepped onstage beneath the brilliant lights, her
earlier troubles were forgotten. She didn’t know what had been wrong with her.
She
loved
this life. The dancing, the singing, the patented sideways
showgirl walk with arms extended to show off her sequin-spangled costume. She
couldn’t get enough of any of it.

Getting here hadn’t been easy. It had taken her grueling
months of practice—on top of years of dance instruction—plus nearly a dozen
auditions before she’d landed her first chorus position. Now, at Enchanté,
she’d worked her way up to second-lead dancer. She had better costumes, more
singing parts, and a prime piece of spotlit real estate at the edge of the
stage. It didn’t get much better than this.

High-kicking through the first number, Josie scanned the
audience. Their smiling faces bolstered her; their energy pushed her to kick
even higher. She adored performing. There was nothing else like it. On stage,
nothing else mattered except the next step, the next turn, the next burst of
applause. Nothing else really
existed
except this moment. Right now.