Read Online All Through the Night: A Troubleshooter Christmas by Suzanne Brockmann - Free Book Online Page A

point-zero-four-second fantasy that Dolphina had finally found her soul mate. It must’ve been a trick of the dim afternoon light, creating what had felt like a genuine spark.
    It was almost funny—this man was the exact opposite of what she would have thought of as her type. Assuming that someone who’d had exactly three and a half boyfriends in her entire life had a type. Especially considering that one and a half of those boyfriends had been back when she was in seventh grade, when boyfriends were procured by hastily scribbled notes and conversations held at a distance, through third party negotiators.
    Redheaded Will had a scruff factor of around eight, which was
so
not her thing. Even though he was wearing a jacket and tie, she got the sense that they were borrowed. He smelled good, though, and he was close-shaven, his cheeks and chin smooth. But there was something about him—in the hard planes and angles of his lean face and in the gleam in his hazel eyes—that made her think he’d done some hard living somewhere down the line.
    He was also older than she’d first thought, probably closer to forty than her own almost-thirty.
    She took her hand back. “Dolphina, like the sea mammal. If it’s too much for you, feel free to call me Ms. Patel.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said. He really did have a very nice smile for someone who was either genuinely stupid or stupidly trying to be funny. “A dolphin’s not a fish—of course. I must’ve been stupified by your beauty.”
    Funny he should use that word…But okay. “That’s been known to happen,” she told him, as flippantly as she could manage. “That’s why I work for gay men. My powers of stupification don’t seem to affect them.”
    He laughed. “She’s funny, too. Well, well.”
    â€œAnd she hates being referred to in the third person.” Dolphina led him out of the living room and toward the front parlor. “My calendar’s in here. What am I setting up again?”
    â€œSomething post-work,” he said. “Maybe drinks?”
    She looked at him. “Robin said coffee in the morning.”
    â€œOr drinks,” Will said. “Either was fine with him.”
    â€œHe’s a recovering alcoholic,” she said flatly. She narrowed her eyes at him. “How could you be at this party and not know that?”
    As she watched, he was clearly trying to think up a good excuse. But he ended up just shaking his head. “I’m obviously factually challenged. I have to confess that I really don’t know very much about Robin. I promise I’ll do more research before our meeting.”
    â€œHmph,” she said as she flipped through her calendar. “How’s Tuesday at ten thirty?”
    â€œOoh,” he said, making a face as he wandered around the office, taking in the books on the shelves and the colorful painting that hung above the fireplace mantel. “No chance to make it Monday?”
    Monday, Robin would be on set all day. “You really don’t want to talk to him when he’s in character.”
    â€œWell, actually, that might be—” Will started.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Dolphina said. “I was trying to be tactful. Robin’s been trying to get me to work on that. But the truth is, Robin doesn’t talk to anyone while he’s filming. Except for his fellow actors and the director, and maybe the A.D. And Jules, of course. And me. Sometimes. But not you. No offense.”
    He was smiling at her again, and if she hadn’t known enough to keep her distance from handsome, scruffy, silver-tongued men who could twinkle their eyes on command, her heart might’ve skipped a beat. But no. If she were looking to get plastered against the windshield of tragic romantic reality, there were about a half a dozen perfectly good Navy SEALs waiting for her in the living room.
    â€œTuesday at