Out of Reach Read Online Free PDF

to dinner.
    A delightful melody of familiar voices
reaches my ears as I round the corner leading to Gwen’s office.
Melanie appears to be dominating the conversation, ranting about
some sort of disaster. Leaning my bulk against the open door frame,
I cross my arms over my chest. Gwen’s regal profile is visible in
the bathroom doorway. The arch of her brow and delicate line of her
jaw become accentuated as she tilts her head, brushing out her
fierce red hair. That radiant smile, the one she reserves only for
me, spreads across her face as our eyes meet in the mirror. Holding
her gaze I ask, “Do you like what you see?”
    From her perch on Gwen’s desk, Melanie jumps
down, rushing to her friend’s defense, the double innuendo behind
my words going completely over her head.
    “Give her a minute. You know she probably
locked herself in the lab all day, too consumed by work to eat or
use the bathroom,” she says, a sarcastic grin turning up the
corners of her mouth.
    “Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side,”
Gwen reminds her good naturedly.
    Before their mock bickering escalates, I
interject. “Amazons may not need to eat, but regular guys do, and
this one is famished.”
    Casting an unabashed look my direction, Gwen
fires off, “Please, I’m six-foot in these shoes, tops. Besides how
else do you expect me to look you in the eye?”
    Completely caught off guard by her
assertion, the laughter comes rolling out of my chest. Between
breaths, I manage to blurt out, “I don’t!” before another fit of
hysterics consumes me. A few seconds of this is all I can take
before I force myself to head back down the hallway to regain my
composure. The dynamic duo catches up with me at the elevator and
we enjoy the short ride to the main lobby together in companionable
silence.

Chapter 5

Gwen
    “I’ll have a burger, medium-well, and some
French fries,” I tell the waitress. “Oh, and we’ll need separate
checks please,” I quickly add, barely remembering to ask before she
heads off to put our order in. Sipping on my Coke and finally
starting to relax, I take everything in. The boisterous noise of
the TV commercials, sports announcers, fans cheering on their
teams, and music around the room is soothing. Probably because I
can blend into the background—no one seems to notice I haven’t
really said anything since we got here. I was initiated into the
Monday night group my very first week at Preston-Ward, although I
have a hunch it had more to do with Mark and Dan thinking I was
pretty and available than it did with my sparkling personality. I
am very outgoing outside of work, but at work I’m all business.
    The Gang consists of Mark and Dan, both drug
reps like Melanie; Kade and Christine, both chemists working in Lab
2A; Jerry and Javier from the finance department; and Joe, Charlie,
and me from Lab 4B. Occasionally a few others from various
departments will join us, but we are the die-hards. We can be found
here at McClaren’s on the second Monday of every month, without
fail.
    “Can I refill your Coke, miss?” the waitress
asks.
    “Yes, please,” is outta my mouth before I
even think about it.
    “Oh no you don’t,” Melanie exclaims. “I just
got a pitcher, and it’s your duty to help me finish it,” she says,
slamming a glass down in front of me so hard that a third of the
beer sloshes out onto the table.
    “You’re wasting it, you silly bitch. Now top
me off, please.”
    She does so while I clean up the spill that
is slowing spreading across our table. Thankfully the waitress
chooses this moment to reappear with my Coke and a towel. After
wiping down the table, Melanie and I settle back into our chairs.
Catching her eye, I arch my eyebrow and tilt my head in the
direction of the bar. At the end of the bar, perched on his usual
stool with his back to us watching the Padres game, is Kade.
Melanie giggles and, in unison, we raise our glasses, holding them
out toward Kade and shout, “To our designated