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

and vice versa. But if it makes you feel any better, I also heard about your problem from fifteen other people, and they heard it from fifteen other people, who heard it from—”
    “Yeah, yeah. I get it,” I said. The gossip didn’t make me feel any better. Neither did the fact that Dr. Bryan Rossi was, evidently, a gynecologist.
    I eyed the cream. I really wanted it, but I wasn’t even sure if contact dermatitis was what I had.
    “It’s not herpes, he’s sure, and he would have given you this sample if you hadn’t sneaked out the window.”
    “I wouldn’t have had to sneak out the window if he hadn’t shouted out my name to his entire waiting room! As bad as today’s headline was, I prefer it to one with my name and the word herpes in it!”
    Bryan tipped his head back and laughed. It was a full-bodied, happy laugh. “I’m sorry about that,” he said. “He forgets that everyone else can hear. But I thought the headline was a good one. I liked the picture that went with it too.”
    Yeah, and he had seen the real picture, without the giant black dot. Who was luckier than him? I toyed with the idea of asking if he’d brought something for my jock itch. That would surely make his day.
    “So, tell me,” he asked, “what was it? The toilet paper with the lotion?”
    “Wow. You’re good.”
    “It keeps me in business. It gets everybody once. There’s something about their claim of softening that skin that makes it irresistible to women. But I can guarantee that skin is soft enough already. That’s why it’s so sensitive to the lotion … and everything else.”
    Oh my God. His eyes had gone black and liquid, and so was I. Liquid, that is. Not black. Well, my eyes were probably black, at least as black as his. In romance novels the hero’s eyes always go black during the love scene because his pupils dilate to the size of nickels. For some reason no one ever mentions the heroine’s eyes going black, but hey, women are people too.
    When I found my voice, I thanked him for the flowers, the sandals, and the cream. As it turned out, those weren’t the only reasons he’d come over.
    “What?” I asked, sure I’d heard wrong.
    “A date,” he said, smiling with those white, white teeth.
    He must have had a full set of veneers put on because no one had a real smile like that. I switched my gaze to his eyes. They were twinkling with humor again.
    “You know, boy asks out girl, girl accepts, boy takes girl to a nice dinner and show … a date.”
    “Well, um, dinner and a movie sounds nice but—”
    “Not a movie—a show. Or concert, rather. Seal. He’ll be in Atlanta the weekend after next. We could fly up, take in dinner and the show, spend the night, and fly back on Sunday.”
    Holy crap. At any other time in my life I’d be thinking I hit the jackpot. A young, rich, good-looking doctor and a Seal concert. Not to mention the possibility of what might happen during that overnight time, assuming my dermatitis was gone. But my life was no longer about having a good time. It was about saving my house, and every single day counted in my effort.
    “Are you applying for the Husband Wanted job?” I asked.
    His eyes widened for a split second, and then he blinked. Was that fear lurking behind those baby grays?
    “No!” he said. “I mean, no, not really.” He was smiling again, but it was a shadow of the smile he’d worn before. “I just thought you might enjoy dinner and a show.”
    I told him I would under normal circumstances, but right now my life wasn’t normal. For some weird reason which I’d need to examine later, my mouth told him that in two weeks I might be engaged, and if not, I’d still be looking for a husband. Either way, every minute of my time would be involved with getting my property into conformance.
    He said he was sorry, that he wished things could be different, and I believed him because I felt that way too.

Chapter 7
    M y work schedule varied since I was part-time, but it