after he'd opened the door for her and she'd settled in the car.
"A failing."
"Me, too."
He glanced at her and put the car in gear. His look was disbelieving, but he grinned. And naturally she went all quivery inside. And naturally it made her mad as heck.
"I was standing on the step waiting, or didn't you notice?" Even to her own ear she sounded nicely bitchy and proudly chagrined. She'd always wanted to be chagrined. She hoped it impressed him.
"I'd notice you if you were standing in Times Square on New Year's eve, O'Hanlon. I think we both know that."
That shut her up. She settled for silence until they were nearing Beachline and he started to tell her about the people she was going to meet.
Inside the club's impressive doors they were met by a frosted cookie named Marlene, who looked at Rosie as if she were a soggy-mouthed Rottweiler with one of Marlene's three hundred dollar Italian pumps clasped in her teeth. The pump, Rosie guessed, was Kent Summerton.
They shook hands with the showy enthusiasm of two rival politicians at a joint fundraising.
"Kent, I've been waiting for you," Marlene said, turning to Kent. "Con called. He said if you phone before eleven-thirty you can catch him at his hotel." She looked at her watch. "You've got five minutes."
Kent's expression hardened. "You'll have to excuse me, Rosie."
"No problem. I'm sure Marlene can point me in the right direction."
"Marlene, how about starting Rosie off in accounting? Introduce her to Susan. I'll catch up with you there."
Marlene nodded. She and Rosie moved toward the lair of bean counters and computers as Kent strode off, double-time, in the opposite direction.
Marlene and Rosie smiled at each other, showing enough straight, gleaming teeth to make a crocodile writhe in envy.
"How nice of you to make time to come and see us," Marlene said, not meaning a word of it.
"Nice to be here," Rosie said, then she giggled.
Marlene gave her a puzzled look.
"Sorry, I was just thinking how wonderfully vague the word 'nice' is. How it's so often used to say the exact opposite of what it means."
They stopped outside a door with a sign saying STAFF ONLY, and Marlene's smile fell from her face like snow from a tin roof. "Are you saying I'm insincere?"
"Uh-huh. But that's okay. If I had my cap set for Kent Summerton, I'd be leery of me, too."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I think you do."
Marlene started to say something, then stopped. A tight smile bowed her lips. "I've got a flash for you, Miss O'Hanlon. Every woman in the place has her 'cap' set for Kent Summerton."
"But?" Rosie tilted her head. "There's a but in there somewhere. I can smell it."
"But it seems Kent has an aversion to 'caps' regardless of what woman's head it sits on. The only thing that turns him on is work, work, and more work."
"I know." Rosie sighed noisily. "And it is, as they say, a cryin' shame. All that good husband material going to waste."
Marlene gave her a searching look, then laughed. "You, too, huh?" She shrugged. "Well, all I can tell you is the line forms to the right, and it's damn long." She pushed open the door a couple of inches, then stopped. "You're all right, Rosie. It'll be fun working with you."
Rosie put out her hand, and Marlene took it. They both chuckled. "Lead on, Marlene. Nothing like the warmth and charm of a well-run accounting department to make me feel at home."
* * *
By the time Kent joined them, Marlene, Susan Lyle, and Rosie were sitting in Susan's office drinking coffee and laughing like schoolgirls. Actually, it sounded more like giggling. Not that any man in his right mind would accuse them of that. He was pretty sure women didn't "giggle" any more. When he stepped into the office, Susan, always shy and hesitant around him, sobered immediately and began fussing with the papers on her desk. He glanced past her to the clock behind her desk. Twelve-ten.
"Rosie, I promised you lunch. Are you done here?" If he read it right, they'd
"A failing."
"Me, too."
He glanced at her and put the car in gear. His look was disbelieving, but he grinned. And naturally she went all quivery inside. And naturally it made her mad as heck.
"I was standing on the step waiting, or didn't you notice?" Even to her own ear she sounded nicely bitchy and proudly chagrined. She'd always wanted to be chagrined. She hoped it impressed him.
"I'd notice you if you were standing in Times Square on New Year's eve, O'Hanlon. I think we both know that."
That shut her up. She settled for silence until they were nearing Beachline and he started to tell her about the people she was going to meet.
Inside the club's impressive doors they were met by a frosted cookie named Marlene, who looked at Rosie as if she were a soggy-mouthed Rottweiler with one of Marlene's three hundred dollar Italian pumps clasped in her teeth. The pump, Rosie guessed, was Kent Summerton.
They shook hands with the showy enthusiasm of two rival politicians at a joint fundraising.
"Kent, I've been waiting for you," Marlene said, turning to Kent. "Con called. He said if you phone before eleven-thirty you can catch him at his hotel." She looked at her watch. "You've got five minutes."
Kent's expression hardened. "You'll have to excuse me, Rosie."
"No problem. I'm sure Marlene can point me in the right direction."
"Marlene, how about starting Rosie off in accounting? Introduce her to Susan. I'll catch up with you there."
Marlene nodded. She and Rosie moved toward the lair of bean counters and computers as Kent strode off, double-time, in the opposite direction.
Marlene and Rosie smiled at each other, showing enough straight, gleaming teeth to make a crocodile writhe in envy.
"How nice of you to make time to come and see us," Marlene said, not meaning a word of it.
"Nice to be here," Rosie said, then she giggled.
Marlene gave her a puzzled look.
"Sorry, I was just thinking how wonderfully vague the word 'nice' is. How it's so often used to say the exact opposite of what it means."
They stopped outside a door with a sign saying STAFF ONLY, and Marlene's smile fell from her face like snow from a tin roof. "Are you saying I'm insincere?"
"Uh-huh. But that's okay. If I had my cap set for Kent Summerton, I'd be leery of me, too."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I think you do."
Marlene started to say something, then stopped. A tight smile bowed her lips. "I've got a flash for you, Miss O'Hanlon. Every woman in the place has her 'cap' set for Kent Summerton."
"But?" Rosie tilted her head. "There's a but in there somewhere. I can smell it."
"But it seems Kent has an aversion to 'caps' regardless of what woman's head it sits on. The only thing that turns him on is work, work, and more work."
"I know." Rosie sighed noisily. "And it is, as they say, a cryin' shame. All that good husband material going to waste."
Marlene gave her a searching look, then laughed. "You, too, huh?" She shrugged. "Well, all I can tell you is the line forms to the right, and it's damn long." She pushed open the door a couple of inches, then stopped. "You're all right, Rosie. It'll be fun working with you."
Rosie put out her hand, and Marlene took it. They both chuckled. "Lead on, Marlene. Nothing like the warmth and charm of a well-run accounting department to make me feel at home."
* * *
By the time Kent joined them, Marlene, Susan Lyle, and Rosie were sitting in Susan's office drinking coffee and laughing like schoolgirls. Actually, it sounded more like giggling. Not that any man in his right mind would accuse them of that. He was pretty sure women didn't "giggle" any more. When he stepped into the office, Susan, always shy and hesitant around him, sobered immediately and began fussing with the papers on her desk. He glanced past her to the clock behind her desk. Twelve-ten.
"Rosie, I promised you lunch. Are you done here?" If he read it right, they'd
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