Lucky Stiff by Annelise Ryan Read Free Book Online Page B

tomorrow evening and I’ll bring the employee list and some files with me and go over them with you. We can meet at the restaurant next door. Does seven sound okay?”
    “Seven will be fine,” Hurley says. His eyes are the color of cold steel and he’s wearing a smug smile, which irritates me.
    We part company from Joe; on the way out to Hurley’s car, I fume. As soon as we’re settled inside, I let him have it.
    “You don’t think you’re fooling anyone with that whole team speech, do you?”
    “What do you mean?” he says, sounding all innocent. “It’s true.”
    “I think you know damn well that Joe’s original purpose for the meal wasn’t to discuss the investigation.”
    “That’s what he said,” Hurley says, shrugging.
    “Because you cornered him into it.”
    “If that wasn’t his intent, then what was?”
    “He was asking me out on a date.”
    “He was? I’m sorry. I didn’t pick up on that.”
    “The hell you didn’t.”
    I cross my arms over my chest and pout, staring out my side window. Hurley’s jealousy is flattering, frustrating, and understandable. I can’t deny that I’m attracted to him, and I remember my own feelings of jealousy as I watched Candy Kane flirt with him. But I also know that, painful as it may be, I have to find a way to let go of my feelings for him and move on. Hopefully, the sexual tension between us will evolve into a strong friendship over time. But if that’s going to happen, I need to commit wholeheartedly to exploring other romantic relationships, and a dinner with Joe Whitehorse seems like a reasonable place to start.
    “Look, Hurley,” I say with a sigh of resignation. “I think we need to agree that we are free to see and date other people. It’s going to be awkward at times, but I think it’s for the best. Don’t you?”
    Part of me hopes he’ll disagree, because I’m not totally convinced myself that this is the best thing to do. Or, rather, that it’s the thing I want to do. But I realize it’s what I have to do.
    “I suppose you’re right,” Hurley says, scowling. His acquiescence relieves me, but it also leaves a tiny hole in my heart.
    We ride in stony silence for the rest of the trip home. Along the way, an idea hits me. I suspect it will make Hurley angry, but it makes perfect sense.
    Half an hour later, Hurley drops me off at my place. “See you in the morning,” he grumbles.
    I watch him drive off, saddened over the death of our romantic future but determined to move on. After letting Hoover out to do his business, I change into a flannel nightgown and toss a load of laundry into the machine in preparation for tomorrow’s plan. When I finally sink into bed sometime later, I drift off quickly. It’s a fitful night of sleep, and my dreams are filled with roulette wheels, blackjack tables, and a pair of lacy, lucky undies.

Chapter 5
    The next morning dawns with the weathermen predicting a high of 56 degrees. This weirdly warm weather is highly unusual in Wisconsin, where many believe there are only two seasons: winter and road repair. Between the frost heaves and all the salting and sanding on our roads in the winter, spring often brings potholes big enough to swallow a car whole.
    After a stop at the local coffeehouse—where I get stuck in line behind a woman who debates her coffee flavor decision as if it’s going to affect the fate of the world—I arrive at the police station at seven forty-five, a full half hour before the scheduled interview with Jack’s girlfriend, Catherine Albright. The day dispatcher, Stephanie, buzzes me through to the inner chambers and I make my way to the break room. Hurley is already there, seated at a table, reading the newspaper. He glances at me over the top of the paper and grunts, “Morning.”
    I have not arrived empty-handed; fortunately, there is no one else in the break room, since I only brought enough for Hurley and me. I walk over and set the two cups of coffee I have on the table.