First You Kiss 100 Men.... Carolyn Greene

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      Chapter Two

      Then there’s the matter of expediency. Sometimes one of the partners in a kissing couple is a bit more…hesitant, shall we say?…than the other. Hesitation does not necessarily signify reluctance, but it sure can add to the frustration level.

      Back at Oltmeier-Matthews, the receptionist got up to lead her to Hunter Matthews’s office.

      ‘‘Please don’t bother,’’ said Julie. ‘‘I want to surprise him.’’

      With the ukulele strap slung over one shoulder and her purse over the other, she headed down the right corridor past a glassed-in meeting room toward the man who had wrecked her carefully laid plans.

      The secretary’s desk outside his office sat vacant. Except for the fact that it was devoid of papers and folders, she might have assumed that the employee had stepped away momentarily. A deep voice floated to her from the inner office—a voice that only hours ago had set her heart aflutter, but now filled her with an urge to use her ukulele as a weapon over his head.

      ‘‘Yeah, Pete, I told you I’d look into it. Don’t worry, I’ll make it a priority. But I still think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill.’’

      Taking the musical instrument in hand, Julie pushed the office door open, stepped inside and pointed the neck of the ukulele at him.

      ‘‘You used to be like a big brother to me,’’ she announced. Well, not really like a brother, but she wasn’t about to admit that she’d once had a long-term teenybopper crush on him. ‘‘Is that any way to treat family?’’

      ‘‘Pete, I’ll have to call you back.’’ Hunter hung up the phone and rose from his chair. Then he untwisted the coiled cord and moved the phone an inch so that it was exactly catercorner to the edge of his desk. ‘‘Two singing telegrams in one day? What’s the occasion this time?’’

      ‘‘I’m not delivering a telegram. In fact, thanks to you, that part of my life is now history.’’ Standing across the room from him as she was, Julie thought it prudent to raise her voice so she could be heard. But given her frustration level at the moment, her raised voice quickly turned to something nearer a shriek. ‘‘What possessed you to go to my employer and tell her I was delivering kiss-o-grams and that you happened to ‘get lucky’? You made it sound like I was hiring myself out to deliver more than just a song and a greeting.’’

      If he was ashamed, he sure didn’t show it. He should have been avoiding her gaze. He should have been bowing and scraping and apologizing profusely, but instead he stood there like a statue of some gorgeous Greek god and studied her face with unwavering attention.

      ‘‘I’m sorry,’’ he said, taking a step closer. ‘‘That’s not what I intended to do.’’

      She gave him a point for appearing sincere, but the road to you-know-where was paved with good intentions. An overly honest conscience raised the point that it was she who had deliberately bent the company rules of not fraternizing with customers. Hunter’s role had merely been to bring it to her employer’s attention. But that didn’t stop her from venting her frustration over this setback in her career plans.

      ‘‘Then what, may I ask, were you intending to accomplish by telling my boss I was doling out kisses indiscriminately?’’ She’d been very discriminating when she’d favored him with an early birthday kiss, but there was no way she could have made Mrs. Quarles understand that.

      ‘‘I’m not really sure,’’ he responded, in a much quieter tone than she’d been using. He seemed truly perplexed.

      ‘‘You’re not sure why you wanted to ruin my career? Or you’re not sure why you set me up to look like a wanton woman?’’ It seemed as though her blood was boiling in her veins. Her face felt hot, her chest was tight and her vision became blurred as she tried to stare him down through the tears that had pooled in her eyes. Anger, she reminded herself. Stay focused on the anger, and don’t think about how much it hurts to have your career opportunities slashed and burned by one reckless conversation. She took a deep breath to fortify herself for the final salvo. ‘‘You owe me big-time, Mr. Hunter Matthews. And I want you to pay up now.’’

      She heard a rustling sound behind her, but was distracted when he stealthily approached her. Positioning his body close to hers, he reached toward her.

      For the space of a millisecond, Julie thought that he might take her in his arms and kiss her again. And during that slow-motion fraction of time, she wanted him to do it.

      Time had treated him well. Gone was the lean teen physique, and in its place was a body enhanced by firm muscles and a tailored suit. Further magnifying his physical appeal was the lithe confidence with which he moved—confidence gained from maturity and experience. It was an exhilarating combination, and Julie was not immune to it. He’d been a potent package before he’d left for college. Now he was absolutely stupendous….

      Lifting her chin in anticipation, she took a breath to steady herself. Of their own accord, her eyelids lowered, and she ran her tongue over her parched lips.

      His hand briefly touched her arm as he moved her slightly to one side, and her knees became like pudding. Then the contact was broken as he leaned past her to grab the door. Mmm, privacy.

      ‘‘Sorry about the disturbance, folks. Everything’s under control now.’’

      Julie’s lashes fluttered open. Folks? She turned just before he pushed the heavy wooden door shut and saw a half-dozen curious faces smiling at them. Most of them were the same people who’d watched as she sang to Mr. Oltmeier this morning.

      With a barricade between them and their audience, they were alone again. But having been jolted out of her momentary distraction, and disappointed that the situation hadn’t gone according to her secret wishes, Julie refocused her attention on the matter at hand.

      ‘‘You owe me a job.’’

      ‘‘That would never do.’’

      ‘‘I don’t think you understand how important the Merry Messengers job was to me. Losing that position is going to severely and negatively impact my career plans.’’

      He had the nerve to laugh. ‘‘You delivered singing telegrams. What kind of stepping-stone is that? Were you hoping to someday deliver singing and dancing telegrams?’’

      Julie crossed her arms over her chest. ‘‘Of course not,’’ she retorted. ‘‘I’ve already been a dancing banana.’’

      Too late, she realized she had only provided him more fuel for his entertainment. Looking at it from his point of view, she supposed it did sound silly to tie her career plans to a ridiculous part-time job, but she couldn’t tell him the real reason she needed the Merry Messengers gig. For one thing, it sounded disreputable to say it provided her with plenty of men to kiss. For another, claiming she needed kissable men to report about in her test column would betray the terms of the agreement she’d made with Mr. Upshaw.

      ‘‘Just give me a job working here, and I’ll let bygones be bygones.’’ Maybe she should СКАЧАТЬ