Prelude to a Wedding by Patricia McLinn Read Free Book Online Page B

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spirit. He could handle that.
    A challenge . . . Yeah, he could enjoy
that.
    * * * *
    "Paul Monroe's on line two, Bette."
    Bette sidestepped Darla's curious look, just
as she'd sidestepped earlier questions with a simple statement that
she and the client had had an enjoyable business dinner. "Thank
you, Darla."
    She waited until her assistant closed the
door behind her, took a deep breath and lifted the receiver. "Good
morning, this is Bette Wharton. May I help you?" It was chicken to
pretend she didn't know who was on the other end of the line, but
she wanted an extra second to remind herself of how she'd decided
to deal with him.
    "Hi, Bette. It's Paul."
    So much for formality, she thought with an
unwilling and wry smile. "Good morning, Paul. I hope everything's
going smoothly so far with Sally."
    "Sally? Oh, the temporary temporary
secretary. Yeah, everything's fine. In fact, you know what she
did?"
    "What?"
    "She made me fresh coffee." He sounded so
impressed she couldn't help but chuckle.
    "No! Really?"
    "Go ahead and laugh, but Jan never does that
for me. She says anybody who comes and goes as much as I do
deserves to drink whatever's available."
    "She has a point."
    "Well, just don't go telling Sally, okay? I
usually only get fresh coffee about twice a year, so this is a
treat."
    "1 promise not to tell Sally, but she won't
be there much longer."
    "How'd you know?"
    "How'd I know what?"
    "That Sally won't be here much longer."
    "Because she'll be replaced by your permanent
temporary as soon as you make a selection."
    "Oh. I thought maybe my reputation had
already gotten to her. Isn't that an oxymoron?"
    "Isn't what an oxymoron, and what
reputation?"
    " 'Permanent temporary.' I think that's an
oxymoron—you know, a built-in contradiction."
    "1 guess it is." She hated herself for it,
but she couldn't resist repeating, "And what reputation?"
    "For going through a lot of secretaries
fast."
    She wondered if the reason for this was only
his business habits. In her line of business she couldn't help but
know that a certain breed of men viewed temporary secretaries as a
two-birds-with-one-stone dating service. She'd have been surprised
if Paul Monroe was one; she'd also have been too disappointed for
her own comfort.
    In her coolest, most neutral tones, she said,
"I understand that's the reason Jan Robson contacted us in the
first place, isn't it?"
    "I guess it is." If she thought she caught an
echo of sheepishness, she could also imagine a grin lurking.
    "And that, I'm sure, is why you're calling
this morning." She thought he mumbled "not exactly," but ignored
it. "I've just messengered the files over to you, since they
somehow ended up back with my papers, uh, last night. You can look
them over, then let my office know before the close of business
today whom you have selected and we'll make every effort to have
that person in place tomorrow morning."
    "I don't like the sound of that."
    What was there not to like? She was being
more than reasonable; getting someone lined up overnight qualified
as above and beyond the call of good customer service. She decided
to quell him with a single syllable. "Oh?"
    "Particularly that part about the messenger
and then notifying your office." He sounded singularly unquelled.
"I thought we could meet for lunch and discuss the whole thing
then, say about one—"
    "I'm sorry, lunch won't be possible." Not if
she hoped to catch up with yesterday's leftover chores.
    "But you've got to eat. All I'm saying is
spend that time with me. And, of course, going over these
files."
    "I don't eat lunch." Now why had she said
that? There were certainly times she'd skipped the meal to finish
work, but she'd also had her share of business lunches. She was
reacting almost as if she were afraid of Paul Monroe.
Ridiculous.
    "You don't eat lunch? Well, no wonder you're
thin. I tell you, Bette, my mom would definitely worry about
you."
    "It's very kind of your mother to be
concerned." What a damn fool thing to