Trouble With Harry by Myla Jackson Page A

tightened into a bone-crunching vise, the friendly handshake became a battle of strength. Harry gave as good as he got, forcing a smile to hide the strain on his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mitch,” he said through gritted teeth.
    “Likewise, Harry.” Mitch didn’t try as hard to hide the effort. Finally, he loosened his grip shaking Harry’s hand free. “So, what’s this I hear about you smoking in and out of bottles?”
    Harry shot a glance at Edie.
    She nodded and walked the rest of the way into the room. “I told him everything. Mitch and I have been friends for two years. I trust him.”
    “That black thing on the table made beeping sounds while you were out.” Harry waved at the offending machine.
    Edie smiled. With her hair down softening the angles of her cheeks and jaw, the simple gesture lit her entire face. “That would be the phone with the built-in answering machine.”
    Harry made a note to himself, make Edie smile more often. He also noted Mitch staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. With a frown, he made another note to punch the bastard as soon as Edie was out of the room. Why, he didn’t know, but his body urged him to do so. “I could hear a voice but I couldn’t find the man talking.” He shrugged. “He said he was your father.”
    As if the lights dimmed in the room, Edie’s smile faded. “My father, huh? Great.”
    Mitch shoved a stack of clothing into his chest. “You might want to go put some clothes on.”
    Harry almost considered putting on Ernie’s dirty coverall as opposed to wearing anything the bone-cruncher, Mitch, might provide. But one look at Edie’s nervous countenance convinced him to take the damned clothes graciously. “Thank you.” Although he itched to, he’d hold off punching the man to save Edie additional grief, having caused her sufficient amounts already.
    Carrying the clothes Mitch gave him, Harry walked back into her bedroom and pulled the door almost shut, leaving a little bit of a gap. If Mitch and Edie talked, Harry wanted to listen.
    “He doesn’t look like a genie,” Mitch was saying. “Where are his harem pants and gold wristbands?”
    “I told you, he got sucked into it because of the stone,” Edie’s voice was almost too quiet to hear.
    Harry leaned his head closer to the door’s opening.
    “Where’s the stone?” Mitch asked.
    With one foot in a pants leg, Harry paused. Maybe Edie would show Mitch the stone, he’d touch it and the idiot would be confined to his very own bottle. Jamming the other leg into the blue denim pants, another thought occurred to Harry. Or maybe since the only gilded bottle available was Harry’s, Mitch might get confined in the same space with Harry. Ye Gads! He’d left the stone on the counter in the kitchen.
    Shirt in hand, Harry threw open the bedroom door.
    Edie and Mitch were shoulder to shoulder, leaning over the counter in the kitchen.
    A pinch of annoyance whistled across Harry’s nerves. Although why he should be aggravated with Mitch and Edie being so close together, he couldn’t fathom. He’d sworn off lasting relationships since his fiancée had ditched him for someone more “settled”. If Mitch made Edie happy, more power to him. Why then did the thought stick like a bone in his craw?
    “I wouldn’t touch that stone if I were you,” Harry warned.
    “Don’t worry. I have no desire to be the prisoner of a bottle or at a woman’s beck and call.” Mitch’s lip curled up in a wicked smile. “I prefer to have my women cater to my wishes, thank you very much.”
    Edie jabbed Mitch in the stomach. “Leave him alone. He didn’t choose to be cursed by the stone.”
    Harry’s stomach tightened. How embarrassing to have a woman defending him against another man. He opened his mouth to say as much, but Edie beat him to the punch.
    “I know someone who might be able to help us.” Edie reached into her purse and pulled out a small black book with the word “addresses” written in