After Hours Bundle (59 page)

“Well, my family was in the salon business. And I'm not ashamed of having worked there, either. So you can all shut the hell up, and you can come ask me for a job when my place is franchised all over the country. Maybe I'll hire you to mop floors or do shampoos.”

Alejo skewered them all with his gaze. They still wore smirks, but at least the bleating and catcalling had stopped. “Now, do you want to practice, or not? Or are you still afraid—like a bunch of girls—that because of my
temporary
job, I'll take you from behind?”

Luis laughed outright at that, and Alejandro knew, though there was a long road ahead and still a lot of ribbing to come, that he'd won.

“Pass me the ball,
rosquete.
” Luis said, finally. “Let's go!”

K
ATE LAY IN
bed with T-bone and thought about the fact that she should be working. But she just couldn't force herself to pick her head up off the pillow. It was stuck there like a ten-pound filing to a magnet.

This probably had something to do with a very lowering realization: that she'd gone and fallen in love with Alejandro Torres, the lying sack of—

She rolled over and sighed. Why hadn't she fallen in love with Drexel, or Kippy or Stone? Someone who wasn't so impossibly good-looking and sexy. Someone who didn't wear a gold chain around his neck, insult her and make her buy girlie shoes. Someone whom she didn't want to punch and kiss at the same time.

She lifted her head with difficulty and smacked her pillow in the hopes of…something or other. She didn't know what. It just felt good to hit something.

It should have been Kippy, she decided. In spite of his somewhat bulbous eyes and his annoying habit of quoting statistics and reciting chemical compounds. Kippy had been nice and malleable, as long as she'd let him run his mouth.

She should have married Kippy when she had the chance. Then she'd never have moved to Miami and met the smooth-talking Latin scourge of her existence.

But then she'd never have experienced really great sex. And she wouldn't have discovered how adorable and intelligent a pig could be. And she wouldn't have fallen in love…. Wait.

Falling in love belonged in the Con list, not the Pro list. It had knocked the breath out of her, as well as the sense. And even if it hadn't hurt at first, it sure as hell did now.

She made a conscious decision to fall
out
of love with him. Immediately. All it would take was a little willpower, damn it.

T-bone was obviously chasing something very exciting in her sleep, since her legs whirred like an eggbeater and she emitted snoozy little barks and whimpers as she almost caught it.

When the phone rang Kate ignored it, but after it stopped it just started ringing again. And again. Then her cell phone started, and wouldn't stop, either. It was a bloody cacophony of ring tones, and she finally fell out of bed with a curse and answered her main line. The phone with the caller ID was in the kitchen, so she couldn't tell who it was, and it might be some awful emergency.

It was someone awful, but not an emergency. “Katy! Damn you, I can't believe you did this to me!”

Huh? She pushed the hair out of her eyes and then said calmly, “Wendell, I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Don't play dumb, Katy. I will get you for this.” His venom shot through the phone line.

Kate was mystified. “Wendell, again, I don't know what you're talking about. Will you at least tell me what I'm accused of? Because I'm honestly in the dark here.”

“You have the nerve to tell me you had nothing to do with that
creature
bursting into my meeting and demanding that I live up to my promise to pay for her breast implants and buttock lift? Not to mention a sex-change operation?”

“What? Oh, Wendell! That sounds just awful. How embarrassing for you.”

“And screeching that she'd serviced me enough times to pay off the national debt?” Wendell's voice shook with rage.

“Well, is it true?”

“No! You know it's not true! You set the whole thing up.”

Someone had finally decided to repay Wendell's nastiness, but it wasn't her. She almost wished it had been. Kate bit her lip hard enough that she tasted the salty, metallic tang of blood. She couldn't laugh, not with him on the phone.

“Wendell, I assure you that I had nothing to do with the incident. I'm shocked and appalled.”

He snarled.

“But you should always keep your promises,” she added, unable to resist. “It's a point of honor with us Spinneys. You know that. So if you did promise to pay for her cosmetic surgery and sex change, you really should.”

She could almost hear the flecks of foam spattering his receiver as he struggled for words. “Bitch!” he finally screamed.

“There is no need for name-calling. I really didn't do this.”
But I should have.

“I've been fired from the Miami project because of this, you whore!”

“Wendell, we both know that with the trust, I don't need payment for sex. So I'm just a garden-variety slut. Now, honestly, this conversation is getting tiresome. I didn't have
anything
to do with this situation. I swear it. Why don't you pour yourself a nice double scotch and you'll feel better in the morning.”

Kate hung up on the ear-splitting squeal of rage that followed her recommendation. In case he called back, she unplugged her house phone and turned off her cell. Then, unable to help herself, she laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks and her ribs hurt.

She pumped a fist into the air. “Somebody got that little rodent but good. I only wish I knew who it was.”

T-bone opened one eye and wagged her tail.

“Maybe it will teach him a lesson.”

T-bone looked dubious about that.

“Yeah, you're probably right.” Kate went back to bed and relapsed into her state of depression.

She'd been an utter fool, and she was mortified, though still furious at Alejandro for lying to her. In fact, it was possible that she was even angrier, since his lie had led to her wrong conclusion in the first place, and therefore her foolishness and mortification was all his fault.

Kate told herself that the probabilities were the same: so maybe he hadn't had a specific product in mind when he began to schmooze and romance her, but her name and financing couldn't hurt his business.

A small niggling voice told her that she wasn't being fair. But then a person who had consumed three pans of brownies in three days—plus one bowl of brownie batter—probably had sugar poisoning and couldn't be held to normal standards of fairness.

“Isn't that so, T-bone?”

The dog rolled over and placed her paw against Kate's cheek, very gently. She began to cry.

T-bone sat up, shook herself, and then began to lick the tears off Kate's face, which made her cry even harder. “I hate him, T.”

She sat up in bed and wiped her face with her sleeve. “Yeah, if you want to know the God's honest truth, it would be a little embarrassing to introduce him to my family as my boyfriend, the macho male manicurist. But hell, why is it any
more
manly for my dad to be the CEO of a bloody shampoo company? I don't notice that he goes out of his way to talk about the tampon division at cocktail parties…” She sniffed. “So the whole thing is stupid!”

T-bone farted.

Kate nodded. “Yeah! It does stink. The whole situation stinks. But I'm not damn well apologizing to some jerk who lies to me and lets me believe he's an accountant!”

T-bone rolled over and licked at her stitches.

“Don't do that, sweetie. Picking at a wound only makes it worse.”

The dog raised her head and looked at Kate for a long moment, her eyes warm and liquid and wise.

“You're right,” Kate said finally, with a sigh. “We should get out of this dark bedroom and go for a walk.”

 

“S
HE
'
S GOT SOME
nerve!” Alejandro shouted to Marly. “I will
not
apologize first. She thought I romanced her for her money! How insulting is that?”

Peggy, who stood in the corner of the kitchenette with them, sighed. “Well, you did lie to her, Alejo.”

“I didn't lie, exactly. I omitted.” He folded his arms across his chest and clamped his hands in his pits.

“You lied,” Marly said matter-of-factly. “You said Señor Manos was a Peruvian product.”

“He is,” Alejandro insisted.

His two partners exchanged a long glance. He was getting really tired of that. They'd conspired against him from the beginning, these two.

“What?” he bellowed.

Peggy shoved a hand through her hair. “You're both idiots. And you're both wrong. So you're perfect for each other.”

“I know that.” Alejandro glared at her.

“But if neither one of you apologizes, then you're at an impasse.” Marly stated the obvious. “By the way, she never wants to see you again, except to kill you.”

“Great. Unfortunately, we have classes together. And we have the damned marketing project to pull together, too.”

“E-mail,” Peggy said, “is a wonderful thing.”

He glowered at her. Then he stalked into the office and closed the door, glaring at the computer.

 

M
S
. S
PINNEY
, K
ATE
read later when she checked her e-mail, still in her pajamas.

 

As you are aware, the marketing project is due next Friday. Please find attached the spreadsheet and cost analysis you requested.

A.T.

 

Glaring at the screen, she typed back:

 

Mr. Torres,

I am fully aware of when the marketing project is due. I am in receipt of the spreadsheet and cost analysis. They look quite competent, considering they were executed by someone who is not, after all, an accountant.

However, I do not find attached an apology. It must have gotten lost in cyberspace.

K.S.

 

Ten minutes later she had his response:

 

Ms. Spinney,

You must be right. However, I have checked the stored documents on my computer, and cannot find the apology in question, so I'm unable to attach it. Many things do, of course, disappear in cyberspace: things such as trust and human emotion. Amazing, though, how sheer gall never seems to get lost.

If you should unearth an apology in your own files, please, by all means send it.

A.T.

 

She lost no time in sending her reply:

 

Like hell.

 

Faster than electricity, he responded, too.

 

Stiff-necked little Yankee bruja.

Give me five minutes with you naked on a mattress, and I'll have you begging me to let you apologize.

 

Kate spit her coffee onto the keyboard.
Bastard!
While she wiped the N, M, space bar and alt keys with a paper towel, she tried to think of a suitably withering response, but her brain seemed to be malfunctioning. Probably because the thought of being naked on a mattress with Alejandro was rather distracting. Jerk!

For example, there were his broad shoulders to consider, and the gorgeously sculpted muscles of his biceps, triceps and forearms, lightly dusted with dark, masculine hair.

Yeah, the big, dumb primate.

Not to mention the terrain of his chest, with those flat, coppery nipples and defined six-pack, his flat stomach and, lower down, his heavy, thick—

Stop it!
She scolded herself.
Any horse is well-hung, too. It doesn't mean the animal is fit to be ridden, much less kept in your stable.

And his legs. God, Alejandro's legs. Long, hard and packed with defined muscle. Legs that seemed oh, so talented at tangling with her own and prying her knees apart.

Yeah, and probably all of his bosomy customers' knees, too.

The way he spoke soft Spanish to her in bed, and caressed her jaw and the backs of her ears and her scalp. He could have her ready for him without even touching her below the neck—and that took serious talent.

Gah! He is Satan. He lied to you about his job—so what else is he lying about?

Kate stalked back to the computer with her answer for Alejandro. Stabbing each key, she wrote back.

 

I'd rather ride my broomstick and get splinters. Give me five minutes naked on a mattress with you, and you'll be a gelding!