Read Online Sizzle in the City by Wendy Etherington - Free Book Online
Authors: Wendy Etherington
Tags: Flirting With Justice
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titles? I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t have one.”
“Me, either. You started it with the my lady business.” Noting he was frowning and realizing this was a hot-button issue for him, she added, “Frankly, I don’t have a clue how the English aristocracy works, and the only title I have a thing for is chef. Good enough?”
His smile sent a renewed buzz through her body. “It’s certainly a promising start.”
He walked down the street, and she watched him until his tall silhouette faded into the night.
She was fairly certain she’d fallen into a fairy tale. Hadn’t Victoria said Robin Hood was a myth when they’d started on this crazy project? By agreeing to the plan had she somehow challenged the time-space continuum and blurred the lines between fantasy and reality?
“No,” she muttered to herself, unlocking the door. “But you’ve certainly been watching too many late-night movies on the SciFi channel.”
Despite the fact that Trevor was related to the man she’d targeted for revenge, the attraction was enticing and exciting. Why shouldn’t she pursue it?
Because, other than hot kisses and family trials, he’s as out of your league as the aliens in the movie you watched last Friday night.
Her practical voice also reminded her she was inching toward the unethical side of the line. Hell, if she turned around she’d probably see the line behind her.
But all she could think about was how to get closer to Trevor.
6
Project Robin Hood, Day Nine
Big Apple Catering, The Kitchen
“B OUNCED !” S HELBY SHOUTED , slapping the offending, worthless check on the prep counter. “The man is a menace.”
“I can’t imagine why you’re surprised,” Victoria commented, flipping through a fashion magazine. “The guy’s an idiot.”
“He has a certain amount of charm,” Calla said.
Victoria shook her head. “Please.”
“Surely you recall that he’s lured a lot of people into giving him their life savings,” Calla argued.
“Not any people I know.”
“Oh, right. You’re infallible. Maybe you should sell savvy lessons.” Calla smiled with mock sweetness. “Then again…that last client of yours and his organic toothpaste were both horrible.”
Victoria slapped her magazine closed. “It was not. And what does that have to do with Max Banfield?”
From years of practice, Shelby tuned out her friends’ bickering. It was like being caught at a tennis match between Pollyanna and Darth Vader.
Her thoughts instead turned to Max’s upcoming investors’ meeting. Neither Victoria nor Calla had been able to get a lead on when, where or specifically what the meeting was being organized for. Max was either very selective about his invitees, or he’d simply been bragging at the party, and the meeting was a myth.
Trevor would know.
They were due to have dinner that night. She’d asked her friends to meet her in her kitchen because she was frantically baking cookies for both him and Mario, the Italian chef Trevor had accused of flirting with her on their Friday-night date.
She and Trevor had talked and texted several times since then. While she’d worked three events over the weekend, he’d spent the time at his house in the Hamptons. For some reason, the dichotomy didn’t bother her. But then she was currently involved in a delusion involving a mythical vigilante, so her judgment was shaky at best.
She’d gotten a stunning bouquet of flowers that morning. Trevor had admitted in the note that his secretary—aka Florence, the former governess—had picked them out, as he’d been in Boston since Monday morning.
So honest.
She’d prided herself on the same. At least she had a couple of weeks ago.
Now she was caught between what she needed and what was right. And that revelation went straight back to her plan to ruin Max. Was she getting justice, or was she unjustifiably vengeful? In her investigation, would she hurt those who were innocent? Should she be patient and hope the
“Me, either. You started it with the my lady business.” Noting he was frowning and realizing this was a hot-button issue for him, she added, “Frankly, I don’t have a clue how the English aristocracy works, and the only title I have a thing for is chef. Good enough?”
His smile sent a renewed buzz through her body. “It’s certainly a promising start.”
He walked down the street, and she watched him until his tall silhouette faded into the night.
She was fairly certain she’d fallen into a fairy tale. Hadn’t Victoria said Robin Hood was a myth when they’d started on this crazy project? By agreeing to the plan had she somehow challenged the time-space continuum and blurred the lines between fantasy and reality?
“No,” she muttered to herself, unlocking the door. “But you’ve certainly been watching too many late-night movies on the SciFi channel.”
Despite the fact that Trevor was related to the man she’d targeted for revenge, the attraction was enticing and exciting. Why shouldn’t she pursue it?
Because, other than hot kisses and family trials, he’s as out of your league as the aliens in the movie you watched last Friday night.
Her practical voice also reminded her she was inching toward the unethical side of the line. Hell, if she turned around she’d probably see the line behind her.
But all she could think about was how to get closer to Trevor.
6
Project Robin Hood, Day Nine
Big Apple Catering, The Kitchen
“B OUNCED !” S HELBY SHOUTED , slapping the offending, worthless check on the prep counter. “The man is a menace.”
“I can’t imagine why you’re surprised,” Victoria commented, flipping through a fashion magazine. “The guy’s an idiot.”
“He has a certain amount of charm,” Calla said.
Victoria shook her head. “Please.”
“Surely you recall that he’s lured a lot of people into giving him their life savings,” Calla argued.
“Not any people I know.”
“Oh, right. You’re infallible. Maybe you should sell savvy lessons.” Calla smiled with mock sweetness. “Then again…that last client of yours and his organic toothpaste were both horrible.”
Victoria slapped her magazine closed. “It was not. And what does that have to do with Max Banfield?”
From years of practice, Shelby tuned out her friends’ bickering. It was like being caught at a tennis match between Pollyanna and Darth Vader.
Her thoughts instead turned to Max’s upcoming investors’ meeting. Neither Victoria nor Calla had been able to get a lead on when, where or specifically what the meeting was being organized for. Max was either very selective about his invitees, or he’d simply been bragging at the party, and the meeting was a myth.
Trevor would know.
They were due to have dinner that night. She’d asked her friends to meet her in her kitchen because she was frantically baking cookies for both him and Mario, the Italian chef Trevor had accused of flirting with her on their Friday-night date.
She and Trevor had talked and texted several times since then. While she’d worked three events over the weekend, he’d spent the time at his house in the Hamptons. For some reason, the dichotomy didn’t bother her. But then she was currently involved in a delusion involving a mythical vigilante, so her judgment was shaky at best.
She’d gotten a stunning bouquet of flowers that morning. Trevor had admitted in the note that his secretary—aka Florence, the former governess—had picked them out, as he’d been in Boston since Monday morning.
So honest.
She’d prided herself on the same. At least she had a couple of weeks ago.
Now she was caught between what she needed and what was right. And that revelation went straight back to her plan to ruin Max. Was she getting justice, or was she unjustifiably vengeful? In her investigation, would she hurt those who were innocent? Should she be patient and hope the
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