Stress and The City. Stephanie Rowe
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Название: Stress and The City
Автор: Stephanie Rowe
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon M&B
isbn: 9781474026406
isbn:
Hmm…maybe she should get a dog. Drew had always been antidog, but he was gone now, wasn’t he? If she got a dog, at least there would be one male who would share only her bed at night. Floppy ears, thick fur, four legs and a tail now topped her list of desired attributes in a man. Wouldn’t that be entertaining, if she started asking her dates to drop their pants so she could inspect for a tail?
See? There was humor in her miserable life.
Dammit. She’d used that word again: miserable. If she kept doing so, someone was bound to think she actually felt that way. She must eradicate it from her vocabulary, effective immediately.
She watched her breath puff out in white clouds as she hurried up the steps, carefully balancing her weight so her feet didn’t slip out from under her. Think about the client. Right. She could do this. Concentrating was no problem. She was a highly sought after professional genius, right? Of course right. She was never, ever wrong.
Okay…so find the significance of the icy steps.…Wow. It was like her brain was in a deep freeze. Come on, Cassie! Think! No, don’t panic that you’ve lost your talent. Close your eyes. Take deep breaths. Relax the muscles. Think about the client. Icy steps. Client. Stress.
Got it! Obviously, Malcolm Tyler Parker was too busy to put sand on his steps. Very interesting.
Cassie pulled out her PDA and jotted down the information. The man couldn’t sleep and didn’t take care of his property. Good to know. She entered the information in the “failure to perform basic home maintenance” column and proceeded to the door.
Hopefully, her new client would be an easy fix.
She wasn’t sure she was up to a monstrous challenge with a recalcitrant client, not with her soul still splattered on the pavement and trampled by a herd of rampaging cattle.
Scratch that.
She was fine.
Her soul was intact.
Her ego…maybe a little frayed around the edges. Nothing that a quick hem job couldn’t fix. If only she knew how to sew…
She forced herself to take a leisurely moment to admire the old horseshoe that had been converted into a door knocker, then banged on the door.
One minute after seven. Perfect timing.
No one came to the door.
She knocked again.
Still no one.
Cassie frowned. Surely he hadn’t left already? She clicked on “work schedule” to double-check her file. Yes, he’d told her he left for work shortly after seven. He should still be there. Her notes were never wrong.
She knocked again, harder, pretending it was Drew’s head she was pounding against the wood. Ah, how soothing. Taking her own advice to identify her stresses and visualize resolution, however socially inappropriate or legally prohibited.
She was definitely a genius.
A door slammed inside the house and Cassie straightened. She patted her hair to make sure it was neat, checked her nylons for runs, clamped her teeth together so they wouldn’t chatter from the cold, ignored her desire to rush home and put on flannel-lined blue jeans, fleece-lined boots and a wool sweater, and readied herself to face her new client.
With any luck, he would be extremely annoyed by the interruption and she could see what he was really like. She was on a roll now. The old Cassie was back. She should become an inspirational speaker on how to recover from emotional devastation. She was that amazing.
The unmistakable click of a lock being opened cued her to don a demure smile that would neither propel her new client into more stress nor dissipate stress that might already be present. Was she good or what?
The door opened and she forgot everything. “You’re kidding.”
“Cassie? What are you doing here?”
It was Ty.
From New Year’s Eve.
The same Ty with whom she’d tongue-tangoed eight days ago.
This was so not turning out to be her month.
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