Read Online No Nice Girl by Perry Lindsay - Free Book Online Page A

boast that we are all one big, happy family here, and it’s probably as true as such an inane remark ever is. Oh, is that the Emerson file, Miss Gordon? Good! Now we can get started.”
    He turned and was gone without another word or look in Anice’s direction.
    Phyllis said quickly, “Run along, Anice, and have a nice dinner somewhere and go to a movie. I’ll be along later.”
    Anice stood thoughtfully silent for a long moment, watching the door that had closed behind them. And then, with that thoughtful expression still on her lovely little face, she collected her bag and gloves and left the office.
    Downstairs, as she crossed the lobby toward the street, she saw Terry McLean lounging against a thick pillar in the middle of the corridor, his eyes scanning the passengers as they emerged from the elevators. A little spark danced for a moment in Anice’s eyes, but when she approached Terry and put a hand on his arm, she was just a pretty girl innocently delighted at discovering a friend in a strange and terrifying place.
    â€œOh, Terry!” she prattled eagerly, as though bumping into him like that were the nicest thing that had happened to her in many moons. “I’m so glad to see you!”
    â€œWell, now, that’s a right flattering thing to say to a tired old man, pretty thing,” said Terry, a slightly wary look in his eyes.
    â€œAre you waiting for Phyllis, Terry?” asked Anice gently. “I’m terribly sorry, but she won’t be down for at least a couple of hours.”
    Terry frowned.
    â€œWorking late again?” he demanded.
    â€œThat’s what she said,” answered Anice, and the emphasis on the last word was so slight that Terry could not be quite sure it was really there. “Of course, Mr. Rutledge has to go to Washington tonight, and I suppose there are just lots of things to be attended to before he goes.”
    Terry stared at her hard, his brows drawn together.
    â€œI think we can safely agree there must be,” he said with deceptive mildness, and straightened. “Well, no use my hanging around any longer, honeychile—nice to have metten up wit’ youse!”
    But as he flipped the brim of his hat with an impudent forefinger and was about to turn away, Anice tightened her hand on his arm and said eagerly, coaxingly, “You were going to take Phyllis to dinner, weren’t you? You must hate eating alone as much as I do. Why don’t we have dinner together at the apartment? There’s a cold roast chicken in the icebox—it’s too hot for hot food. And I make a marvelous salad, and there’s iced tea. Oh, Terry, please! ”
    Terry studied her curiously for a moment. Now what in hell’s sweet name, he wondered to himself, was the little minx up to? For that she had something under her hat he refused to doubt.
    â€œOkay, why not? Sounds a most alluring prospect,” he agreed, and Anice just barely managed to restrain the impulse to give a little girlish hop of pleasure. She tucked her hand through his arm and beamed joyously up at him as they walked out of the lobby together and the enervating heat of an afternoon that had established a new record swept over them.
    â€œPoor Cousin Phyllis!” said Anice gently. “Still working in that sweltering place—”
    â€œInasmuch as the Rutledge offices boast of an uncommonly fine new air-conditioning system, I think you and I are the ones to be pitied, for not being up there instead of here,” Terry reminded her.
    â€œOf course,” said Anice a trifle hurriedly. “But I just hate to think of her working so hard. Mr. Rutledge is terribly good-looking, though, isn’t he? And I don’t suppose it’s possible for any girl to work with him as closely as Cousin Phyllis does and not be fond of him, do you?”
    Her eyes were so wide and so blue and so innocent that Terry answered the implication rather than the actual