thought a moment longer and broke into a wide, open smile.
* * *
Walking to his car, Richard Stein smiled as he thought about Carla Millhouse and the way her soft body felt under his when they rolled around on the floor at the gym. She smelled like wild flowers. He wondered how she’d taste. He’d felt her ample breasts brushing against his chest. Were her nipples dark? How did they taste? Richard was startled to find himself semi-aroused from his thoughts.
What the hell was he thinking?
She was just a sweet, sad woman with a narcissist jerk for a husband. He really liked her. Why did all the nice women end up with men who didn’t appreciate them? Her husband, Martin, obviously had no idea what a gem he had. A guy could get lost in Carla’s brown Bambi eyes. Even a little overweight, she was an attractive woman—more than attractive. Martin better wise up and start treating her better before someone stole her from him. Then realizing where his thoughts were heading, Richard ruthlessly shut them down.
Chapter Five
A tall, thin, boyish-looking, blond-haired man in his early thirties, with a face full of freckles, rapped his large knuckles on the open door of Jessie Thompson’s small cubicle of an office. She looked up to see her cousin, Haywood, standing in front of her grinning from ear-to-ear like some dolt. The only thing he was missing was a stalk of hay through his teeth.
“Wipe that idiot grin off your face. You’re already fifteen minutes late and my boss is big on punctuality.”
“Sorry,” he replied, replacing the grin with a look of sincerity. “I really do appreciate your getting me this job.”
“Just don’t screw it up. My neck’s on the block here. And remember, we’ve never met before.”
“I know. Ma’s already drummed all that into my head.”
Jessie rose from her seat and motioned for him to follow her. On the way to Hemmings’ office, Haywood asked how Jake was doing. Jessie stopped walking and tensed. Still angry about his latest debacle, she looked at her cousin and replied coldly, “He’ll live.”
Orson Hemmings was at his massive oak desk with his back to them when they entered after knocking. He was on the phone and swiveled around in his large leather chair, holding up a manicured finger to indicate he’s be with them shortly before ending his conversation. Haywood looked around the spacious office with its plush carpeting and leather sofa in front of a wall cabinet filled with awards and models of high priced cars.
“Mr. Hemmings, the Private Investigator is here,” Jessie said hoping he wouldn’t notice the time.
Orson rose and shook Haywood’s hand with a strong grasp that made the younger man wince. “Thank you. That’s all, Jessie,” he said, ushering her out and closing the door so quickly, he nearly hit her with it.
He must be pissed , she mused. How she wished she was a fly on the wall and able to listen in to their conversation. With the door closed, she couldn’t hear a word. It was that damn soundproofing he’d installed. There was no reason for her to hang out there so she returned to her office. She could almost place money on the fact that Haywood would fill her in on the goods later. Now if Heather had the good sense to behave, things could be back to normal and Haywood would end up with some genuine PI experience and good money in his pockets.
* * *
Heather had already called Martin and informed him about the PI. He shared the same adventurous spirit as she did and they decided to have some fun at Haywood Wish’s expense. If the guy had any pride, he’d remember how shabbily she’d treated him years ago and want revenge. But he was no match for her. Screwing with his head might be more fun than she’d had in a long time.
Hemmings usually left the running of the Mercedes Benz showroom to Martin while he lunched, made deals or golfed. Being the poster boy for wheeling and dealing, he often
* * *
Walking to his car, Richard Stein smiled as he thought about Carla Millhouse and the way her soft body felt under his when they rolled around on the floor at the gym. She smelled like wild flowers. He wondered how she’d taste. He’d felt her ample breasts brushing against his chest. Were her nipples dark? How did they taste? Richard was startled to find himself semi-aroused from his thoughts.
What the hell was he thinking?
She was just a sweet, sad woman with a narcissist jerk for a husband. He really liked her. Why did all the nice women end up with men who didn’t appreciate them? Her husband, Martin, obviously had no idea what a gem he had. A guy could get lost in Carla’s brown Bambi eyes. Even a little overweight, she was an attractive woman—more than attractive. Martin better wise up and start treating her better before someone stole her from him. Then realizing where his thoughts were heading, Richard ruthlessly shut them down.
Chapter Five
A tall, thin, boyish-looking, blond-haired man in his early thirties, with a face full of freckles, rapped his large knuckles on the open door of Jessie Thompson’s small cubicle of an office. She looked up to see her cousin, Haywood, standing in front of her grinning from ear-to-ear like some dolt. The only thing he was missing was a stalk of hay through his teeth.
“Wipe that idiot grin off your face. You’re already fifteen minutes late and my boss is big on punctuality.”
“Sorry,” he replied, replacing the grin with a look of sincerity. “I really do appreciate your getting me this job.”
“Just don’t screw it up. My neck’s on the block here. And remember, we’ve never met before.”
“I know. Ma’s already drummed all that into my head.”
Jessie rose from her seat and motioned for him to follow her. On the way to Hemmings’ office, Haywood asked how Jake was doing. Jessie stopped walking and tensed. Still angry about his latest debacle, she looked at her cousin and replied coldly, “He’ll live.”
Orson Hemmings was at his massive oak desk with his back to them when they entered after knocking. He was on the phone and swiveled around in his large leather chair, holding up a manicured finger to indicate he’s be with them shortly before ending his conversation. Haywood looked around the spacious office with its plush carpeting and leather sofa in front of a wall cabinet filled with awards and models of high priced cars.
“Mr. Hemmings, the Private Investigator is here,” Jessie said hoping he wouldn’t notice the time.
Orson rose and shook Haywood’s hand with a strong grasp that made the younger man wince. “Thank you. That’s all, Jessie,” he said, ushering her out and closing the door so quickly, he nearly hit her with it.
He must be pissed , she mused. How she wished she was a fly on the wall and able to listen in to their conversation. With the door closed, she couldn’t hear a word. It was that damn soundproofing he’d installed. There was no reason for her to hang out there so she returned to her office. She could almost place money on the fact that Haywood would fill her in on the goods later. Now if Heather had the good sense to behave, things could be back to normal and Haywood would end up with some genuine PI experience and good money in his pockets.
* * *
Heather had already called Martin and informed him about the PI. He shared the same adventurous spirit as she did and they decided to have some fun at Haywood Wish’s expense. If the guy had any pride, he’d remember how shabbily she’d treated him years ago and want revenge. But he was no match for her. Screwing with his head might be more fun than she’d had in a long time.
Hemmings usually left the running of the Mercedes Benz showroom to Martin while he lunched, made deals or golfed. Being the poster boy for wheeling and dealing, he often
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