Love Letters, Inc. by Ec Sheedy Read Free Book Online Page A

marketing strategies and—God forbid—the current price of real estate. She shuddered and shoved the ugly image aside. Brain was absolutely right. Going to dinner with Kent would be a waste of her time. And at twenty-eight, considering her agenda, she couldn't afford to waste a minute on the wrong guy.
    "Thank you, Lady Brain," she said aloud, then headed to the door to let Font in before settling down to work. Nothing like a blinking cursor to nail down a wandering mind.
    * * *
    The next morning at breakfast her phone rang.
    "Rosie, it's me." The me was Hennessy.
    "Hey. What's happening?" She shoved aside the crossword she was working on and sipped some coffee.
    "At the meeting you said you'd take on an extra project, if one came along."
    "I did. I live for my work, Hennessy."
    "Don't we all," he said. "Anyway, I've got one for you. Actually, the guy requested you specifically."
    Rosie picked up a pen and idly tapped it on the newspaper. "Nice to be recognized," she said. "Who is it?"
    "Beachline Resort. That posh place where I took you to lunch when you first signed on with us? Remember?"
    Rosie dropped the pen and leaned back in her chair. "I remember. Let me guess. The guy who called was Kent Summerton, right?"
    "Right. How'd you know that?"
    Okay, so she was pleased. A gut female reaction. Nothing more. "Never mind. But satisfy my curiosity, Hennessy. What on earth would a resort like that need a tech writer for?" Be interesting to see just how inventive the man was.
    "The usual. They bought a computer application with lousy documentation, and they want it rewritten so their people can work with it. Interested?"
    "Not. Tell Mr. Summerton he'll have to get someone else. I've got a full schedule as it is." Thank you again, Lady Brain, Rosie said silently. Nice to know you're there when I need you.
    "Am I missing something here? Did you, or did you not, want extra work?"
    "I did. But a piece of that government stuff will do fine."
    "No can do."
    "What? Why?"
    "Assigned. Besides, they cut back the contract by about forty percent."
    "Damn!"
    "That's what I said. So back to this Beachline thing. You want it?"
    "No."
    "They'll pay a premium. Said they want it done pronto."
    A vision of her bank statement danced in her head. She sighed. "Okay, okay. I'm had."
    "Want the telephone number?"
    "No. I've got it. Thanks, Hennessy."
    "Thank you, Rosie girl. The company can use the revenue. See ya."
    Rosie clicked off then clicked on. She ignored it, but something a lot like anticipation wriggled in her chest.
    "Mr. Summerton, please."
    She expected another melody from the Blue Danube, but Kent came on the line immediately.
    "Summerton," he said, sounding busy and preoccupied. Rosie sighed again, curled her fingers tighter over the phone. Even his voice affected her. Something was making her elbows sweat. Well, sweat or no sweat, she told herself firmly she would do this job and not make a damn fool out of herself while she was at it.
    "Hello, I—"
    "—Rosie?"
    "Brace and all. Seems like you just hired yourself a technical writer, Summerton."
    "And from what that Hennessy guy said, a damned good one. When can we meet?"
    She heard him smile. She swore she did. "You'll have to come here."
    "I'm getting used to that."
    "Yes, well, don't get too used to it. This is a project, a business project, nothing more."
    "Of course. Did I say anything to make you think otherwise?" he asked, his tone cool and satiny.
    "No, I guess not," she said, wishing he was less smooth and she more sharp.
    Then again, she was no doubt reading more into this than she should. All he'd really done was ask her out for dinner—a simple courtesy. There was the KISS, of course. But one searing kiss did not a relationship make. Besides, guys were preprogrammed to kiss any female within reach who fell short of gargoyle status. And they'd been known to drop the gargoyle standard in a pinch. He wanted to hire her. Not unusual. She was a technical writer, after all. What