Punchline Read Online Free PDF Page B

The camera pulled back to reveal a gangly young man squinting into the lights with an embarrassed grin.
    “And this is…?” said the reporter.
    “My friend Tom,” Belle announced. She’d changed from her swimsuit into a red sundress that plunged downward on both sides, revealing the outer edges of her breasts.
    “What a babe,” said one of the volleyball players.
    Mindy wrinkled her nose. “I think she’s tacky. Although if she offered to put me in her magazine, I wouldn’t say no.”
    “Shhh!” said everybody else.
    That fellow Tom couldn’t even lift the beginner weights at the gym, Darryl sneered silently. No doubt it was anact, anyway. He was probably either the parking attendant or the janitor.
    Darryl just wished Belle hadn’t flung her arm around the guy’s shoulder. She was so short that the gesture pressed her tight against him, and the man’s grin widened until it nearly split his face.
    “So you and Darryl Horak swapped war stories and one-upped each other?” probed the reporter. “Even though everyone else who drank the punch swears it induced sexual abandon?”
    “Some aversions go too deep to overcome, I guess.” Belle smirked.
    The watchers filled the air with hoots and whistles. “Guess she put you in your place!” someone taunted.
    The picture switched to the male and female co-anchors. “We’re trying to reach Darryl Horak for a response’, said the man. “We hope to have more for you on the nine o’clock news. And now for the weather…”
    Chortling and swapping wisecracks, the volleyball players abandoned their viewing circle and headed toward the net. Mindy joined in, although she appeared more interested in watching-Darryl than the ball.
    He didn’t enjoy her attention. He wanted to be left alone to stew about what he’d seen.
    So Belle was sticking to the party line, that nothing had happened. Well and good, except that her digs about him couldn’t be allowed to pass without response.
    Darryl hated to lose. He particularly loathed being made to look like a jerk on television. And he had no doubt that the marketing director for the megamall would be watching this tiff with great interest.
    He put in a call to the TV station from a pay phone, then returned to play a killer game of volleyball. A guy had to work off his frustrations somehow.
    The sun was setting over the ocean in a smog-enhanced display of pinks and golds when the camera crew foundhim. Sweat soaked Darryl’s black T-shirt, and he could feel the jeans clinging to every muscle in his thighs and calves.
    His companions appeared equally wrung out, except for Mindy. Her only indication of a hard workout was that her shrink top appeared to have shrunk even more.
    Kate Munro headed toward him, determination overwhelming her obvious distaste at the sand pouring into her pumps. Darryl paused with the volleyball under his arm, and didn’t object when Mindy came to stand beside him.
    He would give Belle a taste of her own medicine, he reflected. With any luck, that would be the end of the whole stupid business.
    B ELLE STOPPED AT a pharmacy on her way home. Her stomach had been bothering her for three days, and she’d run out of antacids.
    Stalking down the aisle with a small cart, she mentally reviewed the telecast of herself, which she’d just watched at the office. Working late was par for the course, particularly when deadlines had to be met, and usually she didn’t mind.
    But tonight she’d felt like going home and resting. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with the flu.
    At least the broadcast had flattered her, according to Janie and Anita, who had also stayed late. Their only regret, voiced after Tom had departed, was that they hadn’t had a more macho specimen on hand.
    Oh, well, he’d enjoyed himself, and the point had been made. Belle didn’t need Darryl. She could get any man she wanted.
    Except that she didn’t want any of them. Not since her hideously close brush with matrimony the year before.