Read Online Long Summer Nights by Kathleen O'Reilly - Free Book Online

what a scam…what a great little skirt in royal-blue, and it would be perfect against the new tan that she was developing. She was just contemplating the overpriced tag, wondering if food was really a necessary requirement for survival, when her phone rang.
    Oh, yes, yes! Oh, brave new world that hadn’t forgotten her.
    On the other end was Martina DiCarlo, a coworker at the paper, sometime drinking buddy, longtime friend in times of misery and need.
    “You’ve got a problem,” Martina stated, a happy way to kick off a conversation.
    “Worse than my existing problem?”
    “A gazillion times worse. Quinn’s given Lizette the Palermo scandal.”
    Martina was right. It was worse. “My story on the Harmony Springs Summer Nights Festival will be measured against the shocking downfall of one of the most beloved members of the city council?”
    “Looks that way.”
    “Tell me why I wanted to do this job?”
    “You wanted to right the wrongs in the world. You wanted to fight for truth, justice, and the American Way.”
    Yes, Martina was making a joke, but there was a certain truth in it. “God, I was a sap.”
    “When you said it, I thought it sounded noble. Sappy, naive but noble.”
    “What am I going to do?”
    “Enjoy the vacation, plot new career strategies. That, my friend, is the American Way.”
    “I’m getting a tan. Freckles.” Objectively she studiedher arms. “Okay, it’s a slight sunburn. You know, I would enjoy the vacation part if my cabin was a little nicer. We have community showers,” she started, then trailed off as she remembered the events of this morning, the sight of her hero fumbling his way into a rescue, the dazed shock in his eyes as she shamelessly flaunted her nakedness in front of him.
    Those were good times.
    Little did she suspect that one-star accommodations could actually be fun.
    Suddenly a sneaking suspicion occurred to her, probably only because of its very deviousness. “Did Lizette have anything to do with my travel reservations?”
    Martina hummed for a bit, the way she did when she was thinking. “Well, Alfonse handles the bookings. He likes short skirts and see-through blouses, and I’d lay odds his professional ethics could be bent.”
    Yes, another woman using her seductive wiles to get what she wanted. That hussy. “She did it. I know it. Lizette sidled in there, asking for a little favor, all while leaning over his desk, fluttering those come-hither lashes like he was the sexiest man alive. Poor Alfonse never stood a chance.”
    “Want me to confirm?” asked Martina, ever the intrepid reporter.
    However, Jenn knew a good opportunity for self-pity when she heard it. Right now, in absence of chocolate-fudge-brownie ice cream, she needed it. “No need for verification. Even if she didn’t, I’d feel better thinking she did, so let me savor my petty grievances.”
    “She is sleeping with Howard. That’s not so petty.”
    “You’re right. That’s downright shitty. See? You cheered me up. Be proud, Martina. You’ve done your good deed for the day.”
    “So, any great leads up there? Something exciting?”
    “The exciting kind of something that will move papers?”
    “Does that question to a question indicate there is something exciting?”
    “No, there’s nothing,” answered Jenn, not wanting to sound defensive but sounding defensive.
    Martina, being a good and true friend, knew denial when she heard it, laughed in that mocking scoffing you-can’t-lie-to-a-good-and-true-friend sort of way. “There are only three things that can make a woman sound like that—going overbudget on clothes, gorging on food or going down on a man.”
    “My emotional happiness is not dependent on the influence of a man.”
    “Is your name Gloria Steinem? Do you own a vibrator? If the answer to these questions are no and no, then yes, your sexual happiness is dependent on a man.”
    “I own a vibrator. And you said sexual happiness,” she argued. “I said