by Jill Winters
That time it was more of a statement than a question. She searched his face for about three seconds before it clicked. "Dominick!"
He smiled widely and nodded. "Yeah, how are you?"
Once Lonnie brightened and kicked herself out of zombie mode, she said, "Good, good. What about you? I haven't seen you since college!"
"Yeah, back in college when you"—he hesitated before picking the most tactful verb—"dated my friend, Eric." Dated? Lonnie thought incredulously. More like made a raving fool out of myself on a daily basis for him. Sure, I remember Eric.
"Eric?" Lonnie repeated, deliberately vacant. Then she waved her hand and threw in casually, "Oh right, now I remember." The elevator dinged and the doors opened to the airy, pink-marbled lobby. Dominick held out his hand, waiting for her to step out first. She did, and asked, "So how is Eric?"
Dominick just shrugged. "Actually, we sort of lost touch after college." They walked toward the front doors of the building and then paused for an awkward moment, both not knowing how to end a conversation with someone they hadn't seen in eight years when the reunion had barely progressed to banal small talk. Just then Lonnie's stomach growled audibly, prompting Dominick to ask her to lunch.
And he'd certainly been charming. He'd told her about his experience working as director of Web site development at GraphNet, an Internet company three floors down from Twit & Bell—the whole time punctuating his stories with self-deprecating humor. He'd described his plan of starting his own company that would design corporate software, and told her all about his brownnosing protégé, Harold. And the whole time Dominick had been talking—despite her best intentions—Lonnie had been checking him out. It wasn't like her to feel a sexual attraction for a man so quickly, but that day with Dominick it hit her suddenly and profoundly.
Probably six feet tall, dark eyes, hair almost as black as her own. Not handsome exactly, but the sexiest grin she'd seen since...
Then she'd caught herself, feeling embarrassed, afraid that Dominick had somehow read her mind and knew what she'd been thinking. And, speaking of that, what the hell had she been thinking to check Dominick out when she already had a perfectly adorable practically-semi boyfriend named... Terry? Terry, that was it.
Chapter 2
"Working hard?"
Lonnie looked up and smiled. Her favorite attorney, Macey Green, was taking the time to make conversation with her when she virtually never offered that opportunity to anyone else in the firm. It wasn't that Macey was rude. She was simply all business. Crisp and articulate, she was a shark of an attorney who, for some reason, had taken a special liking to Lonnie—who, in return, respected her tremendously.
"Hi!" she said cheerfully, and then noticed the black leather coat and briefcase in Macey's hand. "Are you heading out?" she asked.
"Yes. I have a few errands to take care of before my court appearance tomorrow." With her free hand, she combed some pale blond hair neatly behind her ear. "What are you working on?" she asked.
"Macey!"
Lonnie glanced over and saw Lunther Bell barreling down the hall toward her desk. In truth, she never knew quite what to make of Lunther. His I'm-just-a-humble-good-ol'-boy demeanor always seemed more like a well-honed shtick than a genuine personality. There was something else, too. Lonnie couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something odd about Lunther Bell that she just didn't trust.
"Macey, hold up!" he called as he jogged the last few steps to get beside her. He had a big smile on his face, not that it enhanced his physical appearance all that much. On a good day, he resembled a less stylish version of The Penguin. "I wanted to talk to you before you left tonight."
Lonnie couldn't help noticing Macey's expression change. The changes were subtle—a slight tightening of her full mouth, a barely perceptible squinting of her blue eyes—but her reluctance to speak with Lunther was clear.
"I'm afraid I don't have the time," she replied in a clipped tone without even looking at him. Instead, she shifted her briefcase to her other hand and smiled at Lonnie. "Have a nice night, Lonnie," she said, and walked briskly through the main doors. Lonnie assumed that Lunther would follow her out so he could catch her before the elevator came. But instead he stayed planted where he was, surveying the papers in his hands.
Abruptly, he glanced at Lonnie and gave her a forced smile. "Well, I guess I'll go fax this." He walked past her and set his papers on the large white machine. He punched in a number and hit send before turning around to attempt chitchat again. "Modern technology," he announced. She could only assume he was referring to the fax machine. "Gizmos, gadgets, you name it, they've invented it. It all gets a little confusing to me." He inserted an artificial-sounding chuckle, and Lonnie just smiled amiably.
The fax machine started beeping, indicating a confirmation sheet was coming out. But when Lunther turned back to grab it, it slipped out of his chubby hand and floated out of reach. He clapped his hands together in an effort to catch it midair, but the flyaway sheet continued to elude him, until it landed on the floor not far from Lonnie's chair.
"Here, I'll get it," she offered, and wheeled her chair a little closer to the piece of paper.
Lunther came up alongside her just as she was reaching for it, and shooed her hand away. "No, no," he insisted. "Now don't pay me any never mind. I've got it." Despite his words, he was gritting his teeth as if he were just barely containing his rage. He bent down to pick up the sheet, and ended up shoving his behind in Lonnie's face. She almost gasped.
She didn't mean to stare. Honestly, she didn't, but... Good Lord. Okay, yes, Lunther weighed around two-eighty, so that, in and of itself, suggested a large rear end. But still... the bulbous monstrosity in her face seemed disproportionate even to his body. She'd never noticed it before; his suit jackets obviously worked wonders. Only now his jacket had ridden up and flapped over across his back, allowing a completely unobstructed view. Hell, he looked like a beaver, and Lonnie couldn't tear her eyes away.
Lunther stood up and spun around, and she averted her gaze so he couldn't tell what she'd been thinking. "Well, 'night," he said quickly, and plodded heavily back to his office.
Less than a minute passed before Lonnie checked the clock again: 5:48 p.m. Twit hadn't emerged from his office in the past half hour, so she hoped she could just slip away to freshen up in the rest room before meeting Dominick downstairs. Of course, at that moment, she heard a door swing open, and within seconds caught a glimpse of her boss waddling around the corner and toward her desk.
"Leslie? Oh, good, you're still here. I know you secretaries like to cut out early whenever possible," Twit said. Well, there went the freshening-up plan. She knew that she should correct her boss when he called her by the wrong name, but she really didn't care enough. Anyway, she figured it was only a matter of time before he went through every other L name until he accidentally stumbled upon Lonnie. She was waiting for that day, and delayed gratification was perfectly fine with her.
"Did you need something?" Lonnie asked with as much eagerness as she could muster, considering her panty-inflaming-but-utterly-platonic friend was waiting downstairs, and she had yet to apply some Plum Daiquiri lipstick.
"Yes. I just want to let you know that within the next couple days I'm going to be expecting some confidential materials—faxes, actually—and I want you to keep an eye out." He altered his inflection, making his words deliberately slow, so she'd be sure to comprehend. "We really need to be discreet—that is to say, careful—with confidential faxes, okay?"
Her expression remained even, and she replied, "Sure, Beauregard, no problem. When any faxes come in, I'll bring them right to you."
Twit held up his hand as if to say sloooow down now, and interjected, "Now, wait, Leslie. I never said 'any' faxes. I mean, I don't want you to bring in materials from the Atrium." The Atrium was a cafe on the second floor that faxed a list of daily specials to every company in the building. Lonnie hardly classified that as confidential, but apparently Twit w
asn't as optimistic about her reasoning skills.
Looking at him, bemused, she just answered, "I understand, really. Don't worry."
With a curt nod, Twit turned and duck-walked back around that damn corner. Okay, five more minutes, she thought as she scurried to the rest room. She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. Curvy was one thing—and a description she'd heard since adolescence—but she was starting to think that if she didn't locate a treadmill and/or a craving for lentils and lettuce wraps soon, her curves would push right through to the next size. She shelved these insecurities for the moment, though, and quickly applied just enough lipstick to give her mouth a hint of wine color, before heading out the door.
Jill Winters is a summa cum laude, Phi Beta Kappa graduate of Boston College. She has published five novels with Penguin Group, which have been featured on Barnes & Noble's Bestseller Lists and Booksense's Top Ten. Her debut novel Plum Girl was a finalist for the Dorothy Parker Award of Excellence.
Jill's sixth book, The Unprintable Big Clock Chronicle, has just been released! The Unprintable Big Clock Chronicle is the first in an upbeat new mystery series, set in the fictional town of Big Clock, Minnesota. Also just released is Kingdom by the Sea, a new romantic suspense novel set on Cape Cod.
Jill loves to hear from readers! You can visit her at http://www.jillwinters.com or follow her updates on Facebook and Twitter.
Table of Contents
Cover
A note from Jill Winters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Excerpt from PLUM GIRL by Jill Winters
Meet Jill Winters