The Mommy Makeover. Bonnie K. Winn

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      Chapter Two

      Katelyn rechecked her watch, drummed her fingers over the wine-colored leather of her briefcase and then tapped her shoe impatiently. Five minutes after eight. Hadn’t she told that cocky driver to be there at precisely eight o’clock?

      She took another drag on her cigarette as she looked out of the glass double doors of her lobby and saw Malloy’s limo pulling into the circle drive. Quickly ditching the cigarette, she pushed open the lobby doors and strode outside. Malloy leapt from the car, but she was faster, yanking open the rear door herself.

      “You’re late,” she greeted him, slamming her briefcase on the seat beside her as she slid inside.

      “Good morning,” Finn replied, wondering if the woman had replaced her Cheerios with ice cubes or, possibly, ground glass.

      She merely glared in response.

      Finn considered telling her it was nothing short of a miracle that he’d shown up at all, considering he’d had to find a baby-sitter, put out all his domestic fires, and then turn an hour drive through traffic to her condo into thirty-five minutes. And all of that had been accomplished on almost no sleep. But, he suspected she wouldn’t care. It was his job, after all, and his messy personal predicaments were none of her concern.

      He pulled out of the driveway. “We’ll get there in plenty of time,” he assured her.

      She grunted in reply and opened her briefcase.

      Finn grasped the thermos in the seat beside him, then lifted it so that she could see. “Coffee?”

      He could see she looked tempted.

      “There are cups in the bar—creamer and sugar, too. Normally, the coffee’s back there, along with donuts and bagels, but I had a pretty full morning trying to line up a sitter. We can swing by Shipley’s Donuts or the bagel place—”

      “Coffee’s fine,” she cut him off, taking the thermos. “In the future, don’t stock donuts or bagels. I prefer power drinks. Daniel can give you a supply. But for now, as I said, I don’t want to be late.”

      “You won’t be,” he replied, determined to make it downtown in record time if he had to drive over the rooftops of the cars in his way.

      “So you said. But we had a late start.”

      God, she was a thorny woman. It was no wonder she was over thirty and single. He pitied the man who decided to get close to her.

      Finn glanced into the rearview mirror and saw that she was deep into her work already. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t surface often enough from her briefcase to be a bother.

      He might be old-fashioned, but he thought a woman should get at least equal joy from her home and family. He suspected the ice princess would be appalled at such a thought.

      Still, he tried again to talk with her. “So, another big meeting this morning?”

      “Ummm,” she replied, obviously not paying any attention to him.

      “Will this one last as long as yesterday’s?”

      “Ummm,” she repeated.

      “Same old thing?” he asked patiently, already knowing her answer.

      “Ummm,” she said, as though on automatic pilot.

      “Just another boring day dancing naked on conference room tables, eh?”

      “Ummm.”

      He waited patiently for a few moments.

      “What did you say?” she asked suspiciously, finally looking up from her work.

      “I asked if this meeting might run long like yesterday’s.”

      “Oh. I don’t know. It shouldn’t, but few creative meetings can be accurately predicted.”

      “Everyone thinks their brainchild is best,” Finn surmised.

      Katelyn glanced up in surprise. She hadn’t thought the man capable of such perceptiveness. “Precisely. And it’s difficult for the client to remember they’re paying us to be creative.”

      “Probably because it’s hard for them to accept that their ideas aren’t any good,” Finn guessed. “Or to remember that’s why they need you. If they were creative geniuses they’d have their own ad agency, instead of hiring one.”

      “Right again.” Katelyn frowned. She didn’t want to believe the man was intelligent—it went against her picture of him. Purposely she turned her attention back to her notes. This campaign was a killer. She didn’t need any distractions—like wondering if hunky limo drivers had brains.

      Finn tried to stifle a yawn. Between the kids keeping him up СКАЧАТЬ