he attracted to me because I reminded him of his wife? Had he been so insanely jealous of her that he’d rather have her dead than with another man?
Jesus! Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? The last thing I needed right now was a man to complicate my life. Remember, I reminded myself, they’re all trouble.
Exasperated, I turned over, thumped the pillow and tried to make my mind blank. Given his scandalous background, and as illogical as it seemed, right before sleep clutched me, I reluctantly acknowledged what I’d been trying hard to ignore. I was far more attracted to him than I wanted to admit.
7
The second week of May ended with the thermometer outside the front door of the Sun pegged at one hundred degrees. Everyone else at the office seemed oblivious to the heat while I wilted like a head of warm lettuce.
Hot as I was, I did feel better. My asthma attacks had decreased to the point of only using my inhaler once a day, if then. And for that I was grateful. Even so, I missed rain. Actually I would have settled for a cloud at that point.
“Hang onto your hat,” Ginger said, tossing mail onto my desk. “When them monsoons blow in around July, y’all are gonna think this is downright cold. Come rainy season we’re talking about heat and humidity.”
I gave her a quizzical look. “You mean it actually does rain here? I swear my skin is so dry, I feel like a lizard.”
“Relax, sugar. Besides getting y’all gussied up in some fine new clothes, we’ll get us a barrelful of body lotion to boot.”
Laughing, I agreed and then went back to work, tapping out a story concerning the upcoming Gold Dust Days celebrations.
Bradley, who’d been out most of the morning, came sauntering in, sailed his hat onto the wall hook, and then rolled his swivel chair up close to mine. I tried not to react to his closeness by pretending to be utterly absorbed in my copy.
“You busy?” His knee was almost touching mine. I looked up at him. For a fraction of a second before answering, I studied the chiseled contours of his lean face. When our eyes met, a jolt shot through me, almost like the time I’d stuck a bobby pin in a wall socket.
“Sort of. What do you need?”
He flashed me that crooked grin. “I heard you’re covering the fund-raiser tomorrow night. I’m going to be there too, interviewing some of the tennis bigwigs. You’ve heard of Ron Holiday, haven’t you? Second seeded at Wimbledon? He’ll be there.”
I wondered what he was getting at. “I’m impressed,” I said, keeping my voice casual. “What’s your point?”
“I was thinking. Since you’re on the way, what say I stop and pick you up?”
Sideglancing, I noticed Jim’s gaze glued on us. I ought to refuse him again, but for the life of me, I couldn’t think of any reason why I should. Anyway, what harm could there possibly be?
“Well…” I hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you…” Why was my heart beating so erratically?
“No inconvenience at all. See you at six-thirty.” He touched me lightly on the shoulder and pushed back to his desk.
Jim’s bratty face wore an expectant smirk. I hoped he hadn’t seen how much the simple encounter had shaken me. Bradley and I were simply two co-workers covering the same story. Period. Right?
With an effort, I pulled my wandering thoughts back to work. After completing the copy, I hauled out my journal and studied the notes from the previous week.
My interview last Monday with town socialite Thena Rodenborn had been quite informative. I’d let out a low whistle of admiration at the sight of her sprawling Santa Fe-style adobe house flanked on both sides by well-kept gardens. Tugg had told me she was a wealthy widow and by the look of the place, plus the sleek gold Lexus parked in the driveway, there was little doubt.
She greeted me with a cheery smile and escorted me into a beautifully furnished sitting room. Had I not known, I would have never guessed by her slender,
Jesus! Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? The last thing I needed right now was a man to complicate my life. Remember, I reminded myself, they’re all trouble.
Exasperated, I turned over, thumped the pillow and tried to make my mind blank. Given his scandalous background, and as illogical as it seemed, right before sleep clutched me, I reluctantly acknowledged what I’d been trying hard to ignore. I was far more attracted to him than I wanted to admit.
7
The second week of May ended with the thermometer outside the front door of the Sun pegged at one hundred degrees. Everyone else at the office seemed oblivious to the heat while I wilted like a head of warm lettuce.
Hot as I was, I did feel better. My asthma attacks had decreased to the point of only using my inhaler once a day, if then. And for that I was grateful. Even so, I missed rain. Actually I would have settled for a cloud at that point.
“Hang onto your hat,” Ginger said, tossing mail onto my desk. “When them monsoons blow in around July, y’all are gonna think this is downright cold. Come rainy season we’re talking about heat and humidity.”
I gave her a quizzical look. “You mean it actually does rain here? I swear my skin is so dry, I feel like a lizard.”
“Relax, sugar. Besides getting y’all gussied up in some fine new clothes, we’ll get us a barrelful of body lotion to boot.”
Laughing, I agreed and then went back to work, tapping out a story concerning the upcoming Gold Dust Days celebrations.
Bradley, who’d been out most of the morning, came sauntering in, sailed his hat onto the wall hook, and then rolled his swivel chair up close to mine. I tried not to react to his closeness by pretending to be utterly absorbed in my copy.
“You busy?” His knee was almost touching mine. I looked up at him. For a fraction of a second before answering, I studied the chiseled contours of his lean face. When our eyes met, a jolt shot through me, almost like the time I’d stuck a bobby pin in a wall socket.
“Sort of. What do you need?”
He flashed me that crooked grin. “I heard you’re covering the fund-raiser tomorrow night. I’m going to be there too, interviewing some of the tennis bigwigs. You’ve heard of Ron Holiday, haven’t you? Second seeded at Wimbledon? He’ll be there.”
I wondered what he was getting at. “I’m impressed,” I said, keeping my voice casual. “What’s your point?”
“I was thinking. Since you’re on the way, what say I stop and pick you up?”
Sideglancing, I noticed Jim’s gaze glued on us. I ought to refuse him again, but for the life of me, I couldn’t think of any reason why I should. Anyway, what harm could there possibly be?
“Well…” I hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you…” Why was my heart beating so erratically?
“No inconvenience at all. See you at six-thirty.” He touched me lightly on the shoulder and pushed back to his desk.
Jim’s bratty face wore an expectant smirk. I hoped he hadn’t seen how much the simple encounter had shaken me. Bradley and I were simply two co-workers covering the same story. Period. Right?
With an effort, I pulled my wandering thoughts back to work. After completing the copy, I hauled out my journal and studied the notes from the previous week.
My interview last Monday with town socialite Thena Rodenborn had been quite informative. I’d let out a low whistle of admiration at the sight of her sprawling Santa Fe-style adobe house flanked on both sides by well-kept gardens. Tugg had told me she was a wealthy widow and by the look of the place, plus the sleek gold Lexus parked in the driveway, there was little doubt.
She greeted me with a cheery smile and escorted me into a beautifully furnished sitting room. Had I not known, I would have never guessed by her slender,
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