Read Online Bride by the Book (Crimson Romance) by Kathryn Brocato - Free Book Online Page A

turned to look. “Well, I’ll be. Didn’t you say she was still cleaning at four this morning? She looks mighty chipper to me.”
    Sure enough, Angelina Brownwood walked briskly toward the diner. She wore a beautifully tailored pink cotton suit with a slim, short skirt, and her blond hair was tucked into a neat chignon that wouldn’t dare shed a tendril. High-heeled pumps, a leather briefcase, and the tortoise-shelled glasses added to the impression of big-city efficiency. The elegant, businesslike sight of her stunned the diner occupants into silence.
    She sailed inside, blithely unaware of an audience, and headed toward the booths.
    “Does she really need those glasses?” Cliff muttered.
    “I doubt it.”
    “She looks much prettier without them,” Cliff went on. “And with her hair down.”
    “The glasses and the hair are part of the outfit.” He waited until Angie was beside them. “Hi, Angie. Won’t you join us?”
    • • •
    Angie directed a beaming smile at her new employer, then caught herself. No professional secretary should display this much emotion in public. The truth was, she was responding to his dark good looks and the lurking smile in his silvery eyes. This was what happened when she went a whole day without reviewing her manuals and imbibing the proper secretarial attitude.
    She reminded herself this job was a three-month prelude to a better position, probably in nearby El Dorado. “Thanks, but I’ll just sit over here so I won’t disturb your discussion. You’ll be seeing enough of me the rest of the day.”
    “What discussion?” Cliff asked. “Since you were the subject of our conversation, you might as well sit down and keep us straight.”
    Angie shook her head. “If you’re still dieting, you don’t want to watch me eat. I’m having buttered toast and grits.”
    “Oh, Lord,” Cliff said on a groan.
    “Sit down, Angie.” Garner moved aside, so that Angie had little choice but to sit. “I just want to know one thing. When do you sleep?”
    She had slept only three hours, thanks to her excitement about the job and planning her new life, but Garner didn’t need to know that. He already had the wrong impression of her. “I don’t need much sleep. Besides, I wanted to be early in case those shelves are delivered this morning.”
    Angie noticed Garner studied her profile closely. When she turned her face toward him, he focused on the dark circles beneath her eyes, which she feared her careful makeup job had failed to cover.
    “You need a heck of a lot more sleep than you’ve been getting,” he said roughly.
    She blinked. “Who says?”
    “I do. Are you bucking for overtime pay or something? You were cleaning windows at four this morning when I drove by on my way home from El Dorado.”
    “What were you doing in El Dorado at four in the morning?” Angie countered in disbelief.
    It was incredible. Usually, her father yelled at her because she took time off from her usual long days at BrownWare occasionally to catch up on her sleep. He’d claimed late nights were a requirement in software development. This was the first time anyone had ever told her she had a right to more sleep than she’d gotten.
    “Who’s the boss around here?” Garner wanted to know. “I was getting someone out of jail, for your information. It’s part of what a small-town lawyer does for a living.”
    “Anyone getting himself put in jail at that hour deserves to stay in jail until a decent hour the next morning,” Angie said with an austere frown. She turned as the sour-faced Dolly Sims slapped a glass of water and a menu before her. “Oh, thank you. The water here is really wonderful. I’ll have scrambled eggs and crisp bacon, please, with toast and grits and lots of extra butter.”
    A sound like a dying bullfrog emanated from Cliff.
    “It’ll have to wait till the cook can get to it,” Dolly said, glaring. “Folks who order chicken dinners first thing in the morning take up all the