The Mommy Makeover. Bonnie K. Winn

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      “Actually, I have about five minutes before the next meeting. Come into my office. There’s just enough time for a cup of coffee.”

      Stefanie trailed behind Katelyn, turning slightly before entering the office. She caught Daniel’s gaze, cementing their alliance.

      KATELYN RELAXED in the dark interior of the car, relieved that the last meeting of the day was finally over. The nagging heartburn that had been erupting since her five-o’clock meeting was now a full-fledged fire in her stomach. Digging in her purse for an antacid, she fervently wished for a cigarette. At that moment, her fingers came across the Walkman Daniel had given her.

      Maybe the tape could really work. Lord knew she needed to drop this irksome habit. It was getting to be easier to sneak a marching band into most places than a cigarette. Even the car her firm paid for was off-limits. It was beyond annoying. Not to mention the fact that she had so far failed to control this one aspect of her life.

      With that thought she put the headphones on. As with any subliminal tape, she really didn’t understand it, but she was so tired. And the beginning just seemed to drone on about the benefits of listening to subliminal tapes. Still, she found herself relaxing, her head nodding as she leaned back in the seat. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a minute…

      “The freeway’s closed, we’re going to have to take Memorial Drive,” Finn told her.

      When she didn’t reply, he sat in silence for a few moments. But silence had never been his strong suit. “That okay with you, Ms. Amhurst?”

      Still no reply.

      “Hey. You alive back there?”

      Stopping at a red light, he craned his head back and saw that she was fast asleep. Even in sleep, she was an enigma. Although signs of weariness creased her face, she was also incredibly alluring. Asleep, she possessed a quality not visible while awake—a touch of vulnerability. Finn wondered if it was a trick of lighting or his own imagination.

      But then her lips formed a quiet sigh. Inexplicably, the sound moved him. It shouldn’t. Katelyn Amhurst was a rigid power freak. Still, the fleeting glimpse made him pause. How much of that was genuine? Was there another Katelyn beneath the corporate killer?

      The car behind him honked. Pulling back from the thought, Finn accelerated. The movement caused the papers resting on the front seat to fall to the floor. He had picked them up from the back seat, intending to sort them. Katelyn had emptied her briefcase between meetings. He guessed some of the papers might be ones Katelyn needed, but they were mixed with bits of trash.

      Stopping at the next light, he reached for the papers, his hand closing over a small piece of cardboard. He started to drop it on the seat when he noticed that it was the inner paper from a cassette tape. He scanned it quickly: “Embrace Your Femininity.” Startled, he glanced back at Katelyn. No wonder she looked a tad vulnerable. But that was no doubt temporary. As the light changed, he slipped the label into the glove compartment.

      A few minutes later, as they arrived at her condo, Finn made enough noise to ensure that Katelyn woke up. When he opened her door, she looked groggy but together, even remembering to remove the headphones.

      As she dropped the Walkman into her purse, Finn cleared his throat, wondering about the tape label he had just seen. “So, what are you listening to?”

      “It’s supposed to help me stop smoking.”

      Right. Finn cleared his throat, stemming his reaction. “And is it working?”

      “This is the first time I’ve listened to it.”

      That explains a lot. “Guess you have to listen to it over and over for it to really work.”

      “I suppose so.”

      “No better time than when you’re in the car.”

      She struggled to contain a yawn. “Uh-huh. Seven-thirty tomorrow morning.” She eyed him balefully. “Not seven thirty-five.”

      He saluted, not completely squelching his grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

      Katelyn hefted her briefcase as she slung her purse strap over her shoulder, then turned toward her lobby door.

      Finn watched her for a moment. “Good night.”

      “’Night,” she muttered around a yawn.

      He grinned despite her lukewarm reply. Whistling, he started up the car and turned onto the still busy street. He had thought this job was going to be a real pain. Suddenly, it looked very interesting.

      Chapter Three

      “Dammit, Malloy. You’re late again.”

      “Six minutes, Ms. Amhurst. And I was caught in traffic.”

      “I thought you knew your way around the traffic.”

      He sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward. “There was a major accident, life-flight was involved. Short of hiring my own helicopter, I was stumped.”

      “People blame everything on the city’s traffic,” she groused.

      “You’ll have to admit it’s a definite factor living in Houston.”

      “The only thing I have to admit is that I have a meeting I must be on time to.” She reached for one of her power drinks. “Malloy, the difference between a successful person and one who wishes he were, is the successful person would hire the helicopter.”

      Finn pursed his lips, considered a variety of answers and settled for the most benign one he could manage. “I’ll have to remember that.”

      She quirked her eyebrows and he noticed that today her eyes were greenish—reflecting the color of her tailored suit. He’d never met anyone before whose eyes changed color so dramatically. They could reflect her clothing, her background, or even the moods of the sky.

      He drove rapidly toward the downtown skyline, determined to make sure she wasn’t late for her meeting. And he arrived with five minutes to spare. Once again she didn’t comment on the accomplishment.

      Instead she handed him a sheet of paper. “Here are some changes in today’s schedule. And the Woodruff meeting is vital. If I don’t make that one, heads will roll, including mine…” Katelyn paused, making certain she had his attention. “And yours.”

      He accepted the sheet and scanned the location of the Woodruff meeting, nearly groaning. It was going to be held in one of the new buildings that had popped up in the Intercontinental Airport area.

      One of the unique aspects of Houston was the number of mini-downtown areas that had cropped up all over the huge expanse of the city, each with their own skyline and unique set of problems. This one’s problem was location. While a thriving, growing area, it was inescapably situated near the city’s northern airport—a traffic nightmare at best, an unnavigable stretch of car-covered concrete at worst.

      Two major freeways headed toward this particular airport and both of them could clog in an instant, and stay clogged for hours. Especially СКАЧАТЬ