Getting It Right! Read Online Free PDF Page B

wind of it.
    “Or multiple house calls,” Frankie continued. A wicked laugh bubbled up her throat. “What do you wanna bet that he prescribes more than one treatment?”
    Would that she would be so lucky, April thought. After a year and a half with no conclusive action, she was due for more than one treatment, thank you very much.
    “So tell me everything,” her friend finally demanded. “What was he wearing?”
    April laughed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
    “You’ll see,” she said. “Indulge me.”
    “Er…Okay. Let’s see.” April paused, easily pulling Ben’s image to the forefront of her mind. He was never very far away anyway. “He was wearing a dark almond handwoven wool sweater and a pair of khaki slacks.” Both of which hadlooked fantastic on him. Very European. Very hot. The sweater had draped over those broad shoulders and muscled pecs, competently displaying the beautiful manly shape underneath.
    “Any jewelry?”
    “Aside from a designer watch—a TAG Heuer, I think—none that I could see.”
    “Looking that closely at him, eh?” Frankie said knowingly.
    Aha, April thought, letting go a quiet laugh. She had been looking closely, evidently even more closely than she’d realized. But then again, Ben was hard not to look at.
    Aside from being remarkably handsome—flawless bone structure, angular jaw, hollow cheeks, heavy-lidded soulful eyes and a slightly imperfect nose to add character—Ben had that whole mysterious dark thing going on. He could have easily stepped onto any gothic movie set and played the part of a sexy vampire or elusive shape-shifter…and she could just as easily see herself playing the role of his devoted familiar. He was…magnetic, April decided. God knows she’d always been drawn to him. Ben had that “It” quality, that certain charisma that put him leagues above the average guy.
    “Well, now that Operation Orgasm is underway, would you like me to tell you about some good news I heard this morning?” Frankie asked.
    Operation Orgasm? She’d named it? Sheesh. April shook her head. “Sure. What’s up?”
    “Carrie got a call from the producers of Let’s Cook, New Orleans! this morning.”
    April squealed as a bolt of glee shot through her. “Oh, you’re kidding!”
    “I’m not,” Frankie assured her, laughing herself. “She’s meeting them next week. And she’s a nervous wreck.”
    April guessed so. It wasn’t every day that a person interviewed for their own television show. But with Carrie’s looks—she had the face of an angel, the soul of a saint—which had been a plus considering she’d had to have the patience of one to work for that nitpicking bastard Martin, April thought—and a body that put every man who looked at her in the mood for sin. Between her good looks and incredible talent, the network would be foolish not to hire her.
    Furthermore, Carrie needed the break. Chicks In Charge had given her an outlet of sorts, but the perpetual grind of working at a thankless job was beginning to wear on her. She’d worked hard for this, dammit. She deserved it.
    “God, I hope this works out for her,” April told her.
    Frankie sighed. “Yeah. Me, too. I’ve got a call coming in,” she said. “Keep me posted. I want details—the hot, the heaving and the horny. Call me as soon as you get home. Provided you come home,” she added.
    “Duly noted.” With a soft chuckle, April disconnected, then made her way back to her home office. That was one of the benefits of her line of work.
    Aside from the necessary legwork she liked to put into a project, ninety percent of her job was accomplished in the small gatehouse located at the rear of her property. She’d fallen in love with the main house, a stately Victorian in the Garden District, the instant she’d seen it. Between the money she’d managed to save and the trust fund she’d inherited at twenty-one, April had managed to pay cash in order to avoid a mortgage.
    Her