The Care and Feeding of Unmarried Men by Christie Ridgway Read Free Book Online Page A

Jemima. “Do your worst, brat.”
    â€œIt’s a hobby. He’s rescued a half dozen Farrahs from bad jobs, bad choices, or the bad boys they’ve hooked up with.”
    â€œI’m sure they’re suitably grateful,” Eve murmured.
    â€œNot grateful enough, according to Nash. He claims he’s climbed off his white steed for good, because he’s tired of those women going off with his best CDs, his best T-shirts, and, ultimately, his best friends.” Drawing in a breath, she darted him a look. “But what I think is—”
    They were all spared the brat’s psychoanalysis by the ring of a cell phone. After pats all around, it was found to be coming from the device in Eve’s suit jacket pocket. One look at the screen and her face leached color.
    He found himself stepping forward. “Eve—”
    â€œI’m late. I have to go.” She hurried to her car door.
    Getting there first, he opened it for her. It wasn’t that he was a gentleman, he was just damn glad that she was going on her way. Finally. Pale or not. Who cared?
    She slid in. He slammed shut the door, his hand on the frame of the open window. “Have fun,” he said.
    Her gaze met his. She didn’t look like fun was on her horizon, but her lips curved in a quick smile. “Thanks,” she replied, her fingers brushing the top of his knuckles. Without his permission, his hand turned and captured hers.
    Their palms met, and a hot spark jumped up his arm and sent a heated message to his groin. Oh, hell. That ol’ black magic was damn sneaky, wasn’t it? It didn’t care if you wanted it or not. If the chemistry was there, then, poof! sizzle! bang! it had you under its spell. Her spell. Though the look in Eve’s eyes told him it was a mutual misfortune.
    However, she managed to pull away first. Shaking his head, Nash watched her back out and drive off. So much for his hands-on problem solving, he thought, letting out a sigh. It had only left him feeling more frustrated than before.

Chapter Five
    â€œStop, Look and Listen”
    The Chiffons
    â€œA” side, single (1966)
    I n a Denny’s halfway between Palm Springs and Riverside, Eve sat on orange vinyl and stared out the dusty windows. The glass double-entry doors were just a dash away, but she pressed her knees together and curled her toes in her pumps to keep herself in her seat.
    Sandy Dailey pushed the saucer piled with plastic thimbles of creamer across the fake-grained table. Eve already knew they were lukewarm and ten minutes from spoiling. She’d take her coffee as black as her mood had been since she’d been forced to phone the SEC investigator. Sandy had agreed to cancel her dinner at the spa the night before if Eve promised to meet with her this afternoon.
    â€œSo,” Sandy started. “Why don’t you tell us again how it happened.”
    â€œUs” being Sandy and her younger associate, a boy-accountant who looked more like Tobey Maguire than a government investigator. Still, since he was male, Eve should catch his eye and unbutton her jacket or lick her lips or find some excuse to touch him, but she couldn’t muster the energy. “I explained the first time we talked, Sandy.”
    Under the SEC’s questioning, Eve had sung like a canary, still reeling from the double whammy of the discovery of her father’s remains and the betrayal of Vince Standish within days of each other.
    â€œTell us again.” The ten years since high school graduation had honed the bones of Sandy’s face to razor-sharp lines. Her gaze was sharp, too, and trained on Eve’s.
    â€œEleven months ago Vince asked me to marry him. When I refused and broke off our relationship, I thought he took it well. I thought we remained friends.”
    â€œApparently not.” Sandy sounded unsympathetic.
    Eve shrugged. “Apparently not. After the merger actually went through, my broker