mindlessly before giving up and drumming her fingertips on the cover photo of Matthew McConaughey, naked from the waist up on a Caribbean beach. She stopped tapping and slid her fingers over his abs, imagining how it would feel to actually caress him.
When the secretary’s voice called her name, Jordan nearly jumped out of the chair. “What?”
“You can go in now. Mr. Egan’s waiting.”
She stood up, thinking if she didn’t get a grip soon, there would be a straitjacket in her very near future. Big mistake not eating that Ho Ho to settle her nerves. Heading toward Egan’s office, she noticed Jackie following close behind with a tray.
“Come in,” Egan bellowed when she knocked timidly on the door.
When he saw her, he slapped his desktop, hard enough to rattle her bones. “My, my, my,” he said, leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Any idea how the good people of Ranchero reacted to your duck story?”
Here we go , Jordan thought. She glanced up to see the secretary still standing beside her.
“How do you take your coffee?”
Jordan turned, half expecting to see someone else in the room. When she didn’t, her anxiety level skyrocketed. It was worse than she thought if Egan’s secretary was serving her coffee.
A going-away present?
“One Sweet’N Low,” she stammered, reaching for the cup along with the sweetener.
After Jackie left, Egan asked again. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about this?” His eyes sparkled like he’d just drawn a straight with his River card up at the Indian casino across the Oklahoma border.
Jordan bit back her smile, remembering the joy she’d felt seeing her name in Saturday’s edition. No matter what happened today, they couldn’t take that away from her, even if it was only fleeting. “Did they hate it?”
“Hate it? Are you kidding me?” He turned his computer screen toward her. “See this?” He pointed to the inbox folder on his Outlook Express. “Over three hundred e-mails. You struck a nerve, girl, just like I knew you would.”
Jordan swallowed. “Three hundred? And they all agree with me about how inhumane it is?”
Egan shook his head. “Not everyone. There are a few kooks out there who think you’re one of those flaming liberals who throw red paint on mink coats. One guy even suggested your lack of a love life is what makes you so cranky.”
“What does my love life have to do with anything?” she asked, stunned by the comment.
Egan sipped his coffee, prompting her to do the same. “No idea. The guy’s probably one of those weirdos who gets his kicks at that ranch outside of town, killing feral hogs for sport. I can picture him now, dressed in camouflage that barely covers his beer belly, thinking he’s saving the world with every wild pig he slaughters.” He paused. “Anyway, what you are or aren’t doing in the sack is your own business. But if he’s right, then I say put on that chastity belt and keep writing these great exposés.”
For the first time since walking into Egan’s office, Jordan relaxed, letting the breath slowly escape her lips. The man must be reading her mail. She might as well be wearing a chastity belt the way her social life was going. “So, does this mean I’m still writing the column?”
“Oh, yeah. You’ve picked up a following now, for sure. The only ones upset with you are the printing crew. You messed up their bowling league Saturday night when they had to stay late and do a reprint. We couldn’t keep up with the 7-Elevens clamoring for more.”
“What about Longhorn Prime Rib?” Jordan hesitated, unsure if she should even ask. “Have you heard from them?”
Egan scratched his chin. “As a matter of fact, I have.”
Jordan braced herself for what she knew was coming next. Something to the effect of never letting that blankety-blank talentless fraud near the restaurant again.
“Roger Mason called bright and early this morning. Seems he had no idea how they fattened up
When the secretary’s voice called her name, Jordan nearly jumped out of the chair. “What?”
“You can go in now. Mr. Egan’s waiting.”
She stood up, thinking if she didn’t get a grip soon, there would be a straitjacket in her very near future. Big mistake not eating that Ho Ho to settle her nerves. Heading toward Egan’s office, she noticed Jackie following close behind with a tray.
“Come in,” Egan bellowed when she knocked timidly on the door.
When he saw her, he slapped his desktop, hard enough to rattle her bones. “My, my, my,” he said, leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Any idea how the good people of Ranchero reacted to your duck story?”
Here we go , Jordan thought. She glanced up to see the secretary still standing beside her.
“How do you take your coffee?”
Jordan turned, half expecting to see someone else in the room. When she didn’t, her anxiety level skyrocketed. It was worse than she thought if Egan’s secretary was serving her coffee.
A going-away present?
“One Sweet’N Low,” she stammered, reaching for the cup along with the sweetener.
After Jackie left, Egan asked again. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about this?” His eyes sparkled like he’d just drawn a straight with his River card up at the Indian casino across the Oklahoma border.
Jordan bit back her smile, remembering the joy she’d felt seeing her name in Saturday’s edition. No matter what happened today, they couldn’t take that away from her, even if it was only fleeting. “Did they hate it?”
“Hate it? Are you kidding me?” He turned his computer screen toward her. “See this?” He pointed to the inbox folder on his Outlook Express. “Over three hundred e-mails. You struck a nerve, girl, just like I knew you would.”
Jordan swallowed. “Three hundred? And they all agree with me about how inhumane it is?”
Egan shook his head. “Not everyone. There are a few kooks out there who think you’re one of those flaming liberals who throw red paint on mink coats. One guy even suggested your lack of a love life is what makes you so cranky.”
“What does my love life have to do with anything?” she asked, stunned by the comment.
Egan sipped his coffee, prompting her to do the same. “No idea. The guy’s probably one of those weirdos who gets his kicks at that ranch outside of town, killing feral hogs for sport. I can picture him now, dressed in camouflage that barely covers his beer belly, thinking he’s saving the world with every wild pig he slaughters.” He paused. “Anyway, what you are or aren’t doing in the sack is your own business. But if he’s right, then I say put on that chastity belt and keep writing these great exposés.”
For the first time since walking into Egan’s office, Jordan relaxed, letting the breath slowly escape her lips. The man must be reading her mail. She might as well be wearing a chastity belt the way her social life was going. “So, does this mean I’m still writing the column?”
“Oh, yeah. You’ve picked up a following now, for sure. The only ones upset with you are the printing crew. You messed up their bowling league Saturday night when they had to stay late and do a reprint. We couldn’t keep up with the 7-Elevens clamoring for more.”
“What about Longhorn Prime Rib?” Jordan hesitated, unsure if she should even ask. “Have you heard from them?”
Egan scratched his chin. “As a matter of fact, I have.”
Jordan braced herself for what she knew was coming next. Something to the effect of never letting that blankety-blank talentless fraud near the restaurant again.
“Roger Mason called bright and early this morning. Seems he had no idea how they fattened up
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