Never Happened Read Online Free PDF

rolled into what she had claimed as her space next to the brick wall of her building. Since most of her staff arrived before seven, morning parking wasn’t usually a problem. Afternoons were a different story, however; things could get hairy.
    She pulled down the visor and checked her reflection in the mirror. Eyeliner, lipstick, no smears or smudges. Good to go. Flipping the visor back into place, she grabbed her knockoff gold Fendi shoulder bag, her caramel-mocha latte and climbed out of her SUV.
    As she turned the corner toward her shop front, a long low whistle trilled behind her.
    â€œMy, my, Alex,” Patsy called from the open entrance of her shop, “don’t you look sharp today.” Her wolf call had prompted a cacophony of yelps from her restless four-legged guests.
    Alex smiled. “Thanks.” The low-slung jeans she wore were her favorite. She’d paired them with thonged sandals and a ribbed pullover that didn’t quite reach the extrawide belt buckled around her waist. “You’ve lost more weight,” Alex commented after giving her business neighbor an approving once-over.
    â€œForty pounds so far,” Patsy confirmed before a lengthy drag on her Kool 100 Ultra Light. “Twenty-five more to go. I’m itching for that new wardrobe my husband promised me. Give me a couple more months and we’ll set a shopping date. I’d love a day away from this.” She jerked her head toward the racket inside.
    Alex gave her the thumbs-up before heading into her office. According to Patsy she’d been overweight her whole life; with forty breathing down her neck now she’d decided enough was enough. She didn’t want to plunge into middle age as a fat woman with climbing cholesterol and soaring triglycerides. Alex admired her determination. Change was good…for some people. Personally, she liked her life exactly as it was.
    Most of the time.
    â€œâ€™Morning, Alex.”
    Though her lifelong friend and office manager, Shannon, had tried her level best not to glance at the clock, she did. She couldn’t help herself. Alex had known Shannon Bainbridge since kindergarten when she was mild-mannered Shannon Owens. The woman had always been as sweet and kind as any angel, but she was an obsessive-compulsive, Type-A personality, perfectionist to the max.
    â€œIt’s seven-oh-two but I’m here,” Alex said in acknowledgement of her silent chastisement. “Good morning to you, too.”
    â€œGuten morgen, Alexis.”
    Alex shifted her attention to the man lounging on the sofa and perusing today’s Miami Herald. “Same toyou, Professor.” He liked showing off his command of various languages. So far she’d recognized six. She’d hired the Professor, aka Barton Winstead III, four years ago when he’d “defected,” as he called it, to Florida from his homeland of Boston. He’d left his career in anthropology behind, as well. To this day Alex had no idea at which university he’d taught or the reason for his decision to leave. He didn’t talk about it, she didn’t ask. She liked him. He had that distinguished look about him. Even his thinning gray hair added an air of dignity. But it was the extreme intelligence that radiated from those caring hazel eyes that she liked most.
    â€œMarg hasn’t come in yet, and Madonna is waiting in your office.” Shannon glanced up from the computer monitor and peered knowingly at Alex over her reading glasses. “She’s not happy.”
    â€œ She’s never happy,” the Professor noted aloud, his regard remaining fixed on today’s headlines as if he hadn’t made the aside.
    â€œPerfect.” Alex braced for battle and headed for her office. If she hadn’t been running behind herself this morning she might have noticed that Marg hadn’t left yet, either. Alex just loved starting her morning off with worries about