just to make herself feel better.
Shannon’s door opened behind her. “Now that’s a good look for you, O’Toole.”
With dignity, Jane removed her foot from the container.
“Almost as good a look as the beet-red on your face an hour ago.”
Jane shot her a look that communicated two words: bite me.
“So what’s up with him, and why do you look like you just ate a nail sandwich?”
Jane sighed. “He doesn’t want to be here. Remember how thrilled I was to hear from that female VP? The one from Zantyne?”
Shannon nodded.
“Well, she’s the one who sent Mr. Sunshine this morning. And he does seem to have an attitude problem. He’s going to be a tough client.”
“Not to mention a hot one!”
Jane ignored the comment completely, as well as the smirk on her friend’s face.
“But if you do well with him,” Shannon guessed, “we could get a lot more business from Zantyne—business that we need if we want to break even this year, service the business loans and hire a receptionist.”
“Exactly.”
Shannon tapped a long fingernail against her teeth. The fingernail was purple. Yesterday it had been blue.
“Hey, Shan? Your nails aren’t going to be green tomorrow, are they? I mean, we—”
“Have a corporate image to uphold, yes, I know. Trust me, once I have my first clients in here next week, the claws will be short and neutral. But until then I’m a free spirit, honey. And green’s not a bad idea…MAC has a new metallic mint color out. Thanks for reminding me.”
Jane looked down at Shannon’s toes, which gleamed—alternately striped and polka-dotted with silver and purple. She shook her head. “Where do you find the time?”
“Exactly where you find the time to run on your treadmill like a gerbil on a wheel. Back to this hunky guy with the eyebrows. Convince him that he can use you for his own purposes, and then he’ll relax.”
Jane nodded slowly, trying to ignore the dirtier connotations of being used for Sayers’s own purposes. Stop that! He’s a client.
Shannon might have a few nuts in her center, but she was often unexpectedly brilliant. “I think you’re right,” Jane said in her best crisp and professional tones. “He’s not the kind of personality who will accept help. He needs to be in control.”
Shannon smirked. “Hmm. Kind of like some other people I know…”
“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m a Virgo. I was born that way.”
“No, I think you dictated the exact date and time you exited the womb. You also took notes, cc-ing the doctor and your parents.”
Jane was smart enough to check the door this time for roving clients before shooting the finger at Shannon. Oh, yes, she had Finesse.
SHE WAS DRAWN BACK INTO HER office by the ringing phone and she could still smell Dominic Sayers’s scent as she picked up the receiver. “Jane O’Toole.”
“Hi, honey.”
Her heart turned over at the sound of her father’s voice, monotone and depressed, as he was most of the time. She worried about him constantly. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
“Gilbey got himself fired again. Don’t know what to do with that boy.”
Jane plopped into her leather chair, squishing all the air out of the seat cushion in an indelicate whoosh. She slipped off one brown leather pump and rubbed the arch of her bare foot against the toe of the other. “What happened this time?”
“Some BS about how the foreman doesn’t like him, wrote him up for being a minute late, yada yada.”
She’d heard it all before—many times—which was probably why she was allergic to the blame game. Her brother Gilbey, just like Dominic Sayers today, always had a boss who was out to get him. And conveniently for Gilbey, the boss always did. Then Gil didn’t have to work while he “searched” for his next job. It was all very convenient. Jane sighed.
“Dad, he’s not going to grow up if you don’t kick him out of the house. He’s going to remain mentally seventeen forever—and he’s twice that age!”
Her father muttered something.
“You know I’m right. Do you want me to talk to him again?”
“Can’t hurt. And maybe you can help line him up some other prospects.”
“No.” Her voice was firm. “I can’t recommend him to anyone when I know what he’s like.”
“He’s your brother, Janey.”
“Yes! He’s my brother, and therefore my own reputation is on the line when I put in a good word for him. It’s embarrassing when he gets fired.”
“Just promise me you’ll think about it.”
I am thinking about it. That’s why I’m slowly going insane. “So how are you doing, Dad? Are you cheering up a little?”
“Well, you know. Darn weeds keep growing in the walkway, no matter what I put on ’em. Got moles in the front lawn. And the Jets are gonna get the snot kicked out of them tonight, you mark my words.”
“I’ll bet the hardware store has something to take care of the weeds and moles. I can’t help you much with your team, though. You just might have to pick a different one.”
“I’m no fair-weather fan, Janey. I stick with my boys!”
I know, and your loyalty is one of the things I love most about you. But judging by their current stats, that means you’re going to be depressed until basketball season starts up.
She didn’t say it aloud. “Why don’t you get out into the sunshine and take a walk, Dad? It’ll make you feel better.” And how about some nice Prozac?
“Unnh.”
“Really.”
“Unnh.”
Well, this is progress. “What would you like me to bring for dinner on Sunday?”
“Unnh.”
“Meat loaf? With mashed potatoes and peas?”
“Unnh.”
Jane decided he’d answered in the affirmative. “Okay, then. I’ll see you Sunday.”
She placed the receiver back in its cradle, and her thoughts returned to Dominic Sayers. Unfortunately the thoughts were not of a professional nature: he was shirtless, displaying a tan, six-pack abs and a wicked grin. He was also beckoning
