Bringing Down Sam by Leslie Kelly Read Free Book Online

talk, nod kindly, then walk away. Particularly when the fan looked as nervous and harmless as this one.
    "Come on, Dee, honey. It can't do any harm to give one little autograph, can it?"
    Sam caught the silent curse word she mouthed as she turned back toward the boy. Sighing, she grabbed the magazine and pen the young man held out and began to sign the cover.
    "No, not there," the man exclaimed in horror as she started to write directly across the voluptuous breasts of the cover model. "You'll ruin the best part!"
    “One more word and I’ll ruin your best part,” she mumbled under her breath, so softly the boy didn’t hear it. But Sam definitely did, and he had to wonder who she was talking to—him or her “fan.”
    "Is this all right?" Eve asked as she scrawled someone else's name in the white block letters on the top of the magazine.
    "Oh, thank you so much, Miss Allen. My buddies just won't believe it. It's just lucky this issue came out this week and I happened to have it in my truck when I spotted you crossing the street. Gosh, I wish I'd had the Playboy issue with me."
    "Wherever would I have signed it?" Eve bit out.
    Sam laughed out loud as the young man scrunched his brow, obviously not getting her sarcasm. Then, with another mumbled, Thanks , the kid ran across the garage to the black pickup truck he'd kept idling in the middle of the ramp. He'd been the moron who'd nearly run Sam over in his rush to follow Eve. The truck's tires squealed in the sudden silence of the garage as the boy drove away.
    "Now, was that so tough? You made his day. And, I imagine by the way he's clutching the magazine, his night, too."
    “Ewww!”
    Sam gave her an evil grin as she glared at him.
    "I don't look anything like her,” she insisted.
    He didn't think before replying, "I've seen that issue of Playboy . And no, you don't. You’re much more attractive." 
    She colored a little before replying, “Of course you’ve seen that issue. I suppose that’s the only female companionship you can get these days.”
    “You’re saying you think I attract Playboy bunnies?”
    She smirked. “I’m saying the only woman you could get a date with nowadays is a two-dimensional photograph.”
    When he whistled in response to the harsh, blunt zinger—which was so unlike anything that had come out of her mouth before—her eyes widened and her lush, full lips parted. She breathed in a deep, audible breath and swallowed, trying to gain control of herself. And to don the mantle of bimbo model, he suspected. He wondered why she felt she had to wear it.
    Her words confirmed his suspicions.
    “I’m so sorry, Sammy, I don’t know what came over me.” That saccharine sweetness was back, as fake and deliberate as a mask.
    “I’m sure you’re just shaken-up by your over-zealous fan,” he said, his tone dry and skeptical.
    She cast a glance toward the down-ramp, where the black truck had disappeared. “He was harmless.” Appearing lost in thought—or in dark memory—she continued. “Over-zealous is a complete stranger who breaks into your house and tells you he knows from the way you look at him from the pages of a magazine that you’re really in love with him and are meant to be his forever.”
    He stiffened, seeing something that looked like pain in her eyes, and knowing she spoke from experience. Something primal roared up inside him as he thought about her once having gone through that. Or the thought of her ever going through it again. He wondered why the magazine hadn’t provided her with a bodyguard.
    “Price you pay for fame, I guess,” she said with a forced smile. As if she knew she’d already blown her cover, and didn’t trust herself to stand around talking anymore, she opened the door of her car and got in. He saw her hands grip the steering wheel tightly. Finally, she glanced toward him and offered a strained smile. "And thanks so much for the compliment—you sure know how to flatter a girl.”
    Compliment? Oh. The