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bodies.
    Blaine was so dead.
    Deep breath, I told myself and tried for my most brisk and professional voice. “Lionel, it doesn’t matter what kind of dates I like. You should choose a package that will fit the type of entertainment best suited to you and the date you choose.” Which won’t be me, I added silently.
    â€œI choose you.” A huge smile slathered across his face.
    I dropped the clipboard onto the table. Whoa, cowboy! “Uh, Lionel, I’m afraid there’s been a mix-up. You see, I own Heart Mates. I can’t date the clients.” But I can fire my assistant.
    His big brown teddy-bear gaze shone with hurt. “I’m only your client so that you can get to know me.” He dropped his gaze to the table where he was twirling the crunched bottle of nose spray. “Ladies don’t always take the time to get to know me. Sure, they’ll dance with me, but . . .” he trailed off, then stood and scooped up his nose spray to tuck it in his shirt pocket. “I just have to prove to you how much you need me.” He walked out the door.
    I grabbed the clipboard and scrambled up after him. “Lionel, I don’t date clients!”
    Lionel stopped by Blaine’s desk. “You sure she likes the wine tasting package the best?”
    Blaine looked up from the ranch dressing he was dipping his French fries in. “Oh, yeah, Sam loves wine tasting. Don’t tell me she’s playing hard to get?”
    â€œBlaine, you know I already have a boyfriend.” My voice sounded reasonable, but visions of the pepper spray on my key ring danced in my head. I could feel my finger depressing the nozzle and zapping Blaine.
    Lionel whipped his head around to look at me, his soft face spilling into surprise. “What kind of boyfriend?”
    â€œUh—” After Gabe’s stunt this morning of ordering me off Janie’s case, our relationship was a little murky. But I was kind of desperate here. I lifted my chin and announced, “A detective.”
    A focused intelligence solidified in his gaze. “Police detective?”
    This wasn’t going as well as I hoped. “Private.”
    â€œAh.”
    I closed the distance between us and glared up into Lionel’s brown-bear eyes. “What exactly does that mean?”
    Lionel smiled. “That’s how I found out about you—the newspapers. You’re always in danger. But you won’t need a PI to protect you. I’ll do it.” He used his big hand to thump his chest. Then he turned around and left.
    I stared after him while Blaine burst out laughing.
    Putting my hands on my jean-clad hips, I said, “You think that’s funny? Have I ever sicced a client on you? Don’t think I won’t!” I turned to stomp away into my office, when I remembered Roxy. Turning back, I tried to look like an intimidating boss. “I need that file on Roxy’s date.”
    Blaine held out a few sheets of paper. “I printed it from the electronic file. You could pull it up yourself on the computer. Nice shiner on your forehead.”
    Setting the clipboard down on Blaine’s desk, I touched the mushy lump. “It shows, huh?”
    â€œRight through your frizzy bangs.” He jiggled the papers in his hand.
    I took them and huffed off toward my office.
    â€œBoss, what about the security check? Want me to fax this to Gabe?”
    Gabe did routine background checks on all our new clients. That was how I met him. I’d hired him right out of the Yellow Pages. Right now I was in the mood to smack him with said Yellow Pages. Stalking back to Blaine’s desk, I held out my free hand. “Give it to me.”
    Blaine took the security release form out from under the interview/info sheet on the clipboard and handed it to me.
    I took the security sheet and went into my office. Settling into my desk, I leafed through the pages of Roxy’s date. I summoned up Kevin in my