Courting the Clown Read Online Free PDF Page B

don’t know anything about you. What kind of a job are you talking about?”
    Nick leaned back and shrugged. “There are several options. I own a store, so it could be retail or office work. The precise nature of the job would depend on your skills and interest. You’d come for an interview and we’d go over your CV and see what we can offer you.”
    Hm.
    If he was for real, was this an offer she could afford turning down?
    Nick noticed her hesitation and pounced. “Good pay, good insurance.”
    “This is sounding a bit too good to be true,” she said skeptically.
    Nick shrugged. “It’s just a job. If you don’t take it, someone else will.”
    “It sounds awfully convenient. Will someone be fired to make room for me?”
    He chuckled. “No. We’re expanding. I need new people anyway.”
    “How do you know I’m even capable of doing this job? You don’t know my record. You don’t know anything about me.”
    Nick didn’t hesitate. “I’ll have to take the chance.” He smiled crookedly. “If it gets Lana Iffy the Clown for her birthday, it’s worth it even if you somehow manage to bankrupt one of my stores.”
    The man truly was desperate.
    But then, so was she. She wouldn’t be starving any time soon, but getting a job was a top priority right now. And she had already practically promised to do the birthday party anyway.
    “Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”

Chapter 3
     
    By the time they returned to Clowns and Clauses , the lights were on. Someone was back. Thank God. Normality was just a few minutes away. Sylvie breathed a sigh of relief, said a very quick goodbye to Nick and his daughters and practically ran to the door in anticipation of repossessing herself. A scrawny half-dressed Santa opened the door when she banged on it. Worried, Sylvie glanced, back, but Nick had pulled away, sparing the girls a sight of a twenty-something Santa with no beard and no belly.
    The young Santa was the only one there, and he quickly pulled off the rest of his costume and left. For a long time, Sylvie just stood in front of the mirror, staring at herself in horrified disbelief.
    This was what she’d looked like all evening?
    Nick was a brave man. He’d not only let her into his car, but actually taken her to a restaurant, with actual people there. And he’d never let on any embarrassment or even amusement at being in her company. She grimaced, and the mirror image looked even more tragic. People must have stared. Why hadn’t she noticed?
    Had she been too busy at staring at him ?
    She flipped another light on, just to punish herself even further. The mirror gleefully gave her an even better look at herself. Her white make-up alternated between being caked and runny, her colorful costume looked bad by itself, but worse soaked with snow and grime, and even her hair, freed from the confines of the wigs, looked like a crow’s nest in need of restoration. She smoothed her hands over it, scowling. She’d probably have been better off keeping the wig on, horrible as it was.
    And Nick had dismissed her protests. He’d said she looked fine. Fine!
    Sylvie whimpered and looked around for a chair to fall into. God, she’d like to show him what she looked like at her best. Not that she had any particularly lofty ideas about her own appearance, but she did look presentable enough -- unlike that... that... creature in the mirror.
    So what?
    She did not need to prove anything to Nick, she chastised herself. She’d been doing a job. This look – most of it – was part of that job. She was not out to impress him. So what if he had the most gorgeous deep blue eyes she’d ever seen, and so what if the feel of his coat over her shoulders had almost hypnotized her with its warmth and his subtle scent?
    His coat?
    Oh, damn.
    She stared dismayed at herself in the mirror. Nick’s coat. Clean and dry and still draped over her shoulders. She pulled it off and carefully hung it on a hook by the door so