Read Online Rules of Lying (Jane Dough Series) by Stephie Smith - Free Book Online Page A

took it outside.
    The second gift was the way he looked. That would have been the first gift if I hadn’t been so nervous about the snake. He wore faded blue jeans, a navy blue T-shirt that hugged his chest, and white Nike running shoes. I had the sudden urge to jump into his arms. Just do it, I thought.
    His dark hair was thick and wavy, a little shorter on the sides but curling down onto his neck in the back, and his eyes were a silvery gray. If I didn’t know he was a doctor, I’d have taken him for the lead singer of a rock band. A very successful rock band, considering the Cartier watch and the diamond-studded Harvard class ring I noticed when he was showing me the snake. As he turned to shut the door behind him, I got a good look at the part of him that had been hidden by his doctor’s coat at our previous meeting. Yum.
    I forced myself to quit staring in order to lessen the drool production thing I had going, so I took a gander at the two boxes he’d dropped onto the coffee table before going after the snake. One appeared to be a flower box and the other …
    He picked up the shoebox, slipped off the bow, opened it, and held out a new sandal exactly like the one I’d lost in the debacle at the gynecologist’s office. I could tell he was going for drama when he got down on one knee and gazed up at me. “Shall I slip it on you to see if it fits?” he asked in a husky voice.
    Well, sure, I was thinking, if you want me to die of embarrassment. Oh, wait. Too late. He was already looking down at my feet. They were covered in dried muck, and an ugly clump of mud, complete with sprouting grass, was plastered to the top of my big toe
    He tried to swallow his laugh, but it escaped as a snort. Then his body began to shake with silent mirth, and that was all it took for me. I keeled over laughing and once I started, I couldn’t stop. I guess I was releasing stress. Heaven knows it wasn’t getting released any other way.
    “That wasn’t part of my fantasy,” he admitted with a chuckle, and I started laughing again so hard that I collapsed onto the sofa.
    “I’d go wash my feet,” I said between gulps of air, “but I’m guessing the moment has passed.”
    When I got myself under control, I asked, “Where’d you get the shoes anyway? As much as I’ve tried to block out the experience, I think I’d remember if I lost both shoes and a shoe box up on that roof.”
    “I found your shoe on the drive after a couple of cars had run over it. It was beyond fixing, but my receptionist said she knew where to get another pair.”
    Now, why did it irk me that he’d sent his receptionist to buy my shoes? Probably because I figured it irked her. It would irk me if my boss had me do it. “Well, that was so nice of your receptionist, but she didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”
    “She did if I wanted an excuse to see you again. It’s for little things like this that I pay her the big bucks.”
    “Do you? Do you pay her big bucks?”
    “I do. Out of my own pocket.”
    He looked as if he meant it, so I felt better. Getting paid big bucks to go shoe shopping, even if for someone else, wasn’t so terrible, and when she returned, she got to stare at him. I’d probably work for free if I could look at that all day. He was that handsome. And a young, rich, good-looking doctor … women were probably flying in from all over the world to stare at him.
    So what was he doing at my house?
    He fished something out of his back pocket and for a second or two, I had a weird fantasy that it was a ring. Until he waved a little white bag in front of my face.
    I pulled out a tube of cream.
    “It’s for your contact dermatitis.” His eyes held a mischievous glint.
    My jaw dropped in shock, but then I remembered what an unattractive look that was on me, so I snapped my mouth shut again. “Dr. Forester should be disbarred or whatever they call it.”
    “We’re partners—I’m taking over his practice—so his files are my files