Born to Be Wild Read Online Free PDF

were doing in Chile while he sat in the stifling confines of the office in his house. He spent more time planning trips now than running them, but the ones he did take on personally he hated like hell to miss.
    “Good,” he said a few moments later, “that sounds fine. I’ll be out on Thursday to look at it. Thanks, Frank, I really appreciate you doing this on such short notice.”
    Zach hung up the phone just as Beaudine strode into the room. Her silver-white hair was caught up in a tight bun covered with a net—deep purple today, the exactshade of the slogan scrawled across the white apron she wore over her sleek black nylon jogging suit. It read: Cajuns Give Deep South A Whole New Meaning.
    He smiled, not caring that his slumped position gave away just how tired he was. He nodded at her attire. “Does this mean you finally asked Frank for a date?” Yesterday her apron had read: Kiss Me or Die a Slow Painful Death.
    The only reply he got was a snort.
    His grin broadened. “At least you’ve stopped playing hard to get.”
    “Hard to get!” She slapped a small stack of folders on his desk, and set a tall glass of iced tea next to them. “
Bon Dieu, cher
, but I’m about as easy to get as today’s paper.” Without a break in movement, she scooped up the small plastic pitcher she’d left on her last pass through and watered the plants lining the windowsill. “The Fujimora deal is there.” She nodded at the manila folders. “Montague will call next week to set up the helicopter thing. And you have two faxes coming in later this afternoon with quotes from the Nepalese and Tibetans on the permits for that Himalayan trip. Drink your tea,
cher
.”
    “Did Frank say yes or no?” was Zach’s only response.
    The plants done, Beaudine whipped a dust rag from the deep pocket of her apron. Tackling the closest book-shelf, she roughly wiped the dust from the surface. “That man, what he doesn’t know would fill the Bayou Teche, don’t I know.” Her grumbled curses quickly slipped into her native Cajun dialect.
    “What was that?” Zach prodded, unable to resist. “You wouldn’t be casting some old voodoo spell on Frank, now would you,
chère?
”
    “And it’s not like I’d give this body to just any ol’ coot, I tell you what!” She straightened the rolled-up maps that filled the antique umbrella stand in the corner. “And that ol’ coot knows it. If he thinks I have time to wait for him to get around to making the first move … At this rate I could be dead a year before I get his clothes off.”
    Laughing in earnest now, Zach held up his hand. “Enough, enough. I don’t think I want to know any more.” He let her settle down a moment, before asking, “She here yet?”
    “
Mais non, cher
. She called on the other line a few minutes ago and said she was stuck behind some accident on 29. She’ll be here soon.” Beaudine walked over to the fern hanging from the ceiling behind Zach, knocking his feet off his desk to the floor as she passed.
    She deftly snapped the dead fronds from the bushy plant. “You too tired to sit straight? You go to bed early.” She aimed a disparaging look at the floor and the desk that were littered with chunks of dried red clay from his heavy hiking boots. “Dusting is one thing,
cher
, but I draw the line at lifting the vacuum cleaner onto the desk.”
    “Ah, an ol’ gator wrassler like you?” he shot back. “You could tilt this big wooden desk over with one hand and be done with it. You don’t fool me.”
    “Don’t tempt me.” She rattled the back of his chair as she passed by, making Zach grab the edge of his desk to keep from falling over backward. She was tall, lean, and faster in her Reeboks than a woman her age had any right being. Although exactly what age that was he hadnever determined. In the six years she’d worked for him, he’d narrowed it down to somewhere between sixty-five and eighty.
    The swishing sound of nylon stopped abruptly as she turned