Fortune Is a Woman Read Online Free PDF Page B

that he’d like to try it one day. They had known each other only a few months. It seemed so premature. Besides, she hated the subject.
    She should make a decision soon though, she feared. Considering the possibility that she might be pregnant.
    Her parents inquired about her plans. Her sister inquired about her plans. Even Paula Treadwell, happy to learn of a Sebastion in Venus’ life, inquired about her plans. The ever elusive Lydia Beaumont, however, did not.
    Venus concentrated on her new job, which she was beginning to enjoy. If she ever re-married, she decided, she wanted a platinum wedding ring. That might make it more doable.
    Happily the pregnancy test came back negative.
     

Chapter 7
    Secretaries, Princes and Fortresses
     
    He was an “Entertainment Consultant.” Whatever that was. Venus had investigated his claim, found his company publicly rated and traded and concluded that what she knew about Sebastion Jones, the prince of pirates, was adequate enough to allow him to move in with her in the exclusive high-rise apartment that she had once shared with her husband.
    Sebastion was “Assistant to the Chairman.” This probably explained his unusual hours.
    Venus was “Assistant to the Vice President of Overseas Operations.” That definitely explained her long absences.
    It was an ideal union. Venus and Sebastion rarely saw each other.
    All that combined to also explain why she rarely saw VP Beaumont either, even if their offices were only two floors apart and their homes only three blocks away from each other.
    But absence makes the heart grow fonder, they do say. And, in tricky times, it is better to be impetuous than cautious.
    _____
     
    “I miss you---V.”
    Lydia read and then reread the note before folding it several times and putting it in her breast pocket. She missed her former assistant terribly. She was irreplaceable.
    _____
     
    “I miss you---V.”
    Helaine read and reread the note before folding it the way she had found it and putting it back in Lydia’s breast pocket. She slipped the coat on a hanger in the closet and said absolutely nothing about it. In the morning she checked the coat pocket again. The note was not there. Nor was it to be found in any of the trash receptacles.
    Lydia was turning forty-two this year. Months away, she had already informed Helaine that she wanted a quiet celebration. Just the two of them. Just the two of them and one mid-life crisis. Or at least the early manifestations of one.
    The woman was preoccupied nearly all the time now with her alleged signs of aging and, as far as Dr. Kristenson could tell, it was the injured knee, long since healed, that had set things off. After that, there was a host of other minor ailments that had begun to stress Lydia. The strands of gray hair–which Helaine didn’t have the heart to say had been there since she had known her. The shortness of breath–after running six miles. Perceived weakness in one or both of her biceps–after weight training. Changes in her complexion…the note troubled Dr. Kristenson.
    Helaine was four years older than her mate, but she didn’t mind the idea of growing old with Lydia Beaumont. She didn’t lose sleep over accumulating grays, or, for that matter, the wrinkles that bunched near her eyes. They were laugh lines, not ones from sorrow or worry. As to aches and pains, these she experienced, too. And recently she had even missed a few periods. These were merely gentle nudges to Helaine, the body keeping her psyche apprised of what time it actually was on the biological clock. Yes, she was aging, but she felt much younger than forty-six and most times she knew she looked younger than forty-six. Unless she thought of Venus.
    _____
     
    “Lana?”
    “Uh-oh. What time is it?”
    “One o’clock. I nee–can you get out early?”
    Helaine laughed low and whispered into the receiver. “Lydia, I have a client.”
    “After that?”
    “Darling, have you forgotten? I’m meeting the Keagans at