reason.”
Shannon ran her fingers over her hair and flashed him a bright smile. “Thanks, Hal. But we don’t know each other that well, so—”
“We now know each other intimately,” he said.
“But not well.”
“Fine. I won’t push you. But I’m here if you need to talk.”
She had to get things back on a professional footing, if that was even possible now. She kept her toothpaste-commercial smile pasted on. “Thank you.”
A long, awkward pause ensued.
“Well,” she said with all the perkiness she could muster, “back to business! I’d like you to consider a couple more cosmetic procedures, just to ensure you look your best in photos and on television, okay?”
Hal just stared at her.
“I’d like to take some stray hairs out of your brow line and also have you do a minor bleaching process on your teeth. They’re straight, they’re even and you’ve got a great smile, but I’m guessing you drink a lot of coffee?”
Hal put his hands on his hips. “How do you go from your emotional issues to my teeth within thirty seconds like that?”
“Hon, I’m a blonde, remember? So as far as you’re concerned, I really don’t have emotional issues—just boobs.” She made no effort to keep the sarcasm out of her tone. “And disregarding what just happened here, I’m paid to do my job. Shallow as it may be, your eyebrows and your teeth are of critical importance to that job.”
“Critical,” Hal finally agreed, heavy on the irony.
“Now, on the bright side, you have no unattractive back hair, so we won’t be forced to wax that.”
“Gosh. That is excellent news.”
“But you look like you haven’t seen the sun in two decades, so I’m going to get a package for you at a tanning salon.”
He glowered at her. “Is that absolutely necessary?”
“Yes. You’re a successful president and CEO. You must look as if you play golf and take expensive, glamorous vacations.”
“Why? I don’t. No time for them.”
“Regardless, you’ve got to look as if you do.”
“Fine,” Hal sighed. “So next week you’re going to bleach my teeth, pluck me and then roast me like a chicken on a spit. I can’t wait.”
“I also need to get you started at a gym and see your closet,” Shannon said decisively. “And we’ll need to go shopping.”
“Shopping?” Hal blanched. “Shop is a four-letter word. You sure we can’t just talk about those emotional issues? Because I think you might be taking out your frustrations on an innocent man, here….”
She ignored him, writing everything down on a notepad. “We’re not going to wait until next week on the teeth or the tanning, Hal. You’re going to pick up a package of whitening strips at the local pharmacy, and you’re going to start at Betsy’s ’Burban Beach tomorrow. Just a tip—take everything off. You don’t want tan lines.”
“Everything?” Hal swallowed.
She nodded and kept writing.
“But what if my, uh, rocket gets scorched?”
She looked up at him. He was serious. “Hal. You can cover that with your hands.”
“You want me to grip myself in a lighted coffin for twenty minutes?” He was outraged.
“If that bothers you, then wear a sock.”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered.
“Can I come and look at your closet tomorrow afternoon?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope, not really.” She flashed him a cheerfully malicious smile.
“Then tomorrow afternoon would be lovely, Miss Shane. Your wish is my command.”
“Now you’re talking,” she said.
S HANNON’S RIGHT BOOT squished into the wet car carpet every time she shifted the beemer’s gears on the way to Hal’s house. The whole vehicle smelled musty, and it was her own damn fault. She doubted the leather seats would ever recover from the soaking they’d gotten yesterday, during her wild drive in the rain. Stupid, stupid, stupid. What got into her sometimes? She honestly didn’t know. But it hadn’t seemed right that the rest of Farmington should go
Shannon ran her fingers over her hair and flashed him a bright smile. “Thanks, Hal. But we don’t know each other that well, so—”
“We now know each other intimately,” he said.
“But not well.”
“Fine. I won’t push you. But I’m here if you need to talk.”
She had to get things back on a professional footing, if that was even possible now. She kept her toothpaste-commercial smile pasted on. “Thank you.”
A long, awkward pause ensued.
“Well,” she said with all the perkiness she could muster, “back to business! I’d like you to consider a couple more cosmetic procedures, just to ensure you look your best in photos and on television, okay?”
Hal just stared at her.
“I’d like to take some stray hairs out of your brow line and also have you do a minor bleaching process on your teeth. They’re straight, they’re even and you’ve got a great smile, but I’m guessing you drink a lot of coffee?”
Hal put his hands on his hips. “How do you go from your emotional issues to my teeth within thirty seconds like that?”
“Hon, I’m a blonde, remember? So as far as you’re concerned, I really don’t have emotional issues—just boobs.” She made no effort to keep the sarcasm out of her tone. “And disregarding what just happened here, I’m paid to do my job. Shallow as it may be, your eyebrows and your teeth are of critical importance to that job.”
“Critical,” Hal finally agreed, heavy on the irony.
“Now, on the bright side, you have no unattractive back hair, so we won’t be forced to wax that.”
“Gosh. That is excellent news.”
“But you look like you haven’t seen the sun in two decades, so I’m going to get a package for you at a tanning salon.”
He glowered at her. “Is that absolutely necessary?”
“Yes. You’re a successful president and CEO. You must look as if you play golf and take expensive, glamorous vacations.”
“Why? I don’t. No time for them.”
“Regardless, you’ve got to look as if you do.”
“Fine,” Hal sighed. “So next week you’re going to bleach my teeth, pluck me and then roast me like a chicken on a spit. I can’t wait.”
“I also need to get you started at a gym and see your closet,” Shannon said decisively. “And we’ll need to go shopping.”
“Shopping?” Hal blanched. “Shop is a four-letter word. You sure we can’t just talk about those emotional issues? Because I think you might be taking out your frustrations on an innocent man, here….”
She ignored him, writing everything down on a notepad. “We’re not going to wait until next week on the teeth or the tanning, Hal. You’re going to pick up a package of whitening strips at the local pharmacy, and you’re going to start at Betsy’s ’Burban Beach tomorrow. Just a tip—take everything off. You don’t want tan lines.”
“Everything?” Hal swallowed.
She nodded and kept writing.
“But what if my, uh, rocket gets scorched?”
She looked up at him. He was serious. “Hal. You can cover that with your hands.”
“You want me to grip myself in a lighted coffin for twenty minutes?” He was outraged.
“If that bothers you, then wear a sock.”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered.
“Can I come and look at your closet tomorrow afternoon?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope, not really.” She flashed him a cheerfully malicious smile.
“Then tomorrow afternoon would be lovely, Miss Shane. Your wish is my command.”
“Now you’re talking,” she said.
S HANNON’S RIGHT BOOT squished into the wet car carpet every time she shifted the beemer’s gears on the way to Hal’s house. The whole vehicle smelled musty, and it was her own damn fault. She doubted the leather seats would ever recover from the soaking they’d gotten yesterday, during her wild drive in the rain. Stupid, stupid, stupid. What got into her sometimes? She honestly didn’t know. But it hadn’t seemed right that the rest of Farmington should go
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