nappy-haired girl holding a Pooh bear stood between a tanned, blond couple in tennis whites. “I’ll call you soon.” Sailor hung up, and then sunk back into the couch, blowing lightly on her drying nails.
CHAPTER 7
Who’s doing whom?
REILLY was on. The whites of his green eyes weren’t too red today, his clothes were neatly pressed, shoes shined, tie knotted perfectly. He wore cologne that hinted of scarf-draped women in exotic lands. In the secretarial bullpen, six young ladies leaned over the cubicle walls, all breasts and teeth. Five others stalled en route to urgent meetings.
Reilly said, “A guy phones a law office, says, ‘I wanna speak to my lawyer.’ The receptionist tells him, ‘I'm sorry but he died last week.’ Next day he phones again, asks the same question. The receptionist says, ‘I told you yesterday, he died last week.’ Next day, the guy calls again and asks to speak to his lawyer. By this time the receptionist is getting annoyed and says, ‘I keep telling you that your lawyer died last week. Why do you keep calling?’ The guy says, ‘Because I just love hearing it.’”
As the ladies laughed and repeated the punch line, Reilly searched the room.
Behind him, she said, “Looking for someone?”
Reilly smiled, turning around. “Good morning.”
Victoria wore glasses today, giving the impression of a studious Playboy centerfold. “Good morning to you, funny man. Don’t forget, you’ve got to run down that depo before the meeting with Harry.”
“Don’t worry Sweden. I’ll be right behind you and let me say, it’s not a bad place to be.”
“Hey, Reilly.” Missy broke in, touching Reilly’s arm. “Do you have it?”
Reilly reached in his pocket and pulled out a small square of paper. He passed it to Missy, his eyes still on Sweden.
Missy snatched it. “You’re the best!” She took off to the break room, waving the paper. “I’ve got Reilly’s top ten!”
Sweden raised her brow. “They all love you, don’t they?”
Reilly said, “I don’t know. Do they?”
Sweden shrugged, then pushed up her glasses and walked away, feeling Reilly’s eyes on her back.
Across town in Paris Kendrick’s penthouse, Ted Montgomery felt obligated to ask, “How long will Arnold be gone this time?’
Paris rolled onto her side, propping her newly tightened face on her chemically treated hand. “The usual. Three weeks. He’ll be back just in time for the Van Gogh opening. Are you taking Alice?”
“Oh hell, probably. She hired a house manager last month, and already this broad has us committing to every damn invitation that comes along. Alice says we need to be seen at more charity and social events. Some crap about the firm’s importance to the community, and our commitment to mankind.” Ted tugged gently on the silk sheet covering Paris, drawing it down across her surgically enhanced forty-something breasts, past her lipo-suctioned abdomen, all the way down to her carotene-lotioned pseudo-tanned thighs of steel.
“Umm-hmm. Now that’s what I call mankind.”
Paris giggled as Ted buried his face in her breasts.
Deluca primped at the mirror, speaking into his headset. “Mariel, I swear, I’ll be there. You know how it is with these high profile cases, if they call at the last minute, I have to go. Why don’t you meet me at Le Bec Fin? The press will be there and you can show off your new stones.” He walked to the couch and lay back on the cushions. “So, baby? What are you wearing, now?”
“Chuck! I’m out of here!” Gina slipped into her sandals, while pulling bobby pins out of her loose bun.
“Okay, Boss.” Chuck poked his head through the order window. “Anything else you need done before the lunch rush?”
“No, I think we’re good. Susie should be here in ten minutes. Table eight’s already paid. He can sit there as long as he wants.” Gina shook out her hair and smoothed the front of her dress. “How do I look?”
“You look
CHAPTER 7
Who’s doing whom?
REILLY was on. The whites of his green eyes weren’t too red today, his clothes were neatly pressed, shoes shined, tie knotted perfectly. He wore cologne that hinted of scarf-draped women in exotic lands. In the secretarial bullpen, six young ladies leaned over the cubicle walls, all breasts and teeth. Five others stalled en route to urgent meetings.
Reilly said, “A guy phones a law office, says, ‘I wanna speak to my lawyer.’ The receptionist tells him, ‘I'm sorry but he died last week.’ Next day he phones again, asks the same question. The receptionist says, ‘I told you yesterday, he died last week.’ Next day, the guy calls again and asks to speak to his lawyer. By this time the receptionist is getting annoyed and says, ‘I keep telling you that your lawyer died last week. Why do you keep calling?’ The guy says, ‘Because I just love hearing it.’”
As the ladies laughed and repeated the punch line, Reilly searched the room.
Behind him, she said, “Looking for someone?”
Reilly smiled, turning around. “Good morning.”
Victoria wore glasses today, giving the impression of a studious Playboy centerfold. “Good morning to you, funny man. Don’t forget, you’ve got to run down that depo before the meeting with Harry.”
“Don’t worry Sweden. I’ll be right behind you and let me say, it’s not a bad place to be.”
“Hey, Reilly.” Missy broke in, touching Reilly’s arm. “Do you have it?”
Reilly reached in his pocket and pulled out a small square of paper. He passed it to Missy, his eyes still on Sweden.
Missy snatched it. “You’re the best!” She took off to the break room, waving the paper. “I’ve got Reilly’s top ten!”
Sweden raised her brow. “They all love you, don’t they?”
Reilly said, “I don’t know. Do they?”
Sweden shrugged, then pushed up her glasses and walked away, feeling Reilly’s eyes on her back.
Across town in Paris Kendrick’s penthouse, Ted Montgomery felt obligated to ask, “How long will Arnold be gone this time?’
Paris rolled onto her side, propping her newly tightened face on her chemically treated hand. “The usual. Three weeks. He’ll be back just in time for the Van Gogh opening. Are you taking Alice?”
“Oh hell, probably. She hired a house manager last month, and already this broad has us committing to every damn invitation that comes along. Alice says we need to be seen at more charity and social events. Some crap about the firm’s importance to the community, and our commitment to mankind.” Ted tugged gently on the silk sheet covering Paris, drawing it down across her surgically enhanced forty-something breasts, past her lipo-suctioned abdomen, all the way down to her carotene-lotioned pseudo-tanned thighs of steel.
“Umm-hmm. Now that’s what I call mankind.”
Paris giggled as Ted buried his face in her breasts.
Deluca primped at the mirror, speaking into his headset. “Mariel, I swear, I’ll be there. You know how it is with these high profile cases, if they call at the last minute, I have to go. Why don’t you meet me at Le Bec Fin? The press will be there and you can show off your new stones.” He walked to the couch and lay back on the cushions. “So, baby? What are you wearing, now?”
“Chuck! I’m out of here!” Gina slipped into her sandals, while pulling bobby pins out of her loose bun.
“Okay, Boss.” Chuck poked his head through the order window. “Anything else you need done before the lunch rush?”
“No, I think we’re good. Susie should be here in ten minutes. Table eight’s already paid. He can sit there as long as he wants.” Gina shook out her hair and smoothed the front of her dress. “How do I look?”
“You look
Similar Books
