While She Was Sleeping... Read Online Free PDF Page B

I’ll throw him out. In the meantime, while you’re here, you make an effort to talk to him and get to know him when he hasn’t been drinking, which I’m telling you is not like him. If you still think he’s a jerk, then we’ll talk. But I know you won’t.”
    Alana sighed, pushed herself away from the wall and re-hung Mr. July, which shouldn’t have been necessary since he was plenty well hung already. “Okay. I know I’m a buttinsky. I just worry about you.”
    “Ya think? ” She couldn’t help grinning. Her sister did look worried, and Melanie was aware a lot of the worry was love. She just wished Alana would keep her worry and love safely long distance. “I’m fine, really. You and Sawyer got off on…okay, rephrase, started off on the wrong foot, but he’s really terrific. Practically a Boy Scout. I don’t know where he was last night, but—”
    “You don’t?” Alana pounced. “He doesn’t tell you where he’s—”
    “Alana…”
    “Okay.” She lifted her hands. “Okay, okay. Shutting up. Where were you last night?”
    “I went out for a drink after work with Jenny and Edgar. Came back to change, then Jenny and I went to a party.”
    “Ah.” Alana looked at her watch, doubtless thinking, You’re too old to be partying this hard at your age, young lady. “You don’t have work today?”
    Melanie whirled around, peered at her Betty Boop clock and gasped. “Oh, God. I’m late.”
    She started peeling off her clothes, looking desperately around at her discarded wardrobe. What to wear, what to wear.
    “I’ll find you something for breakfast.” Alana left the room before Melanie could tell her she didn’t eat breakfast. Whatever. Mommy Alana wouldn’t listen anyway. She’d lecture on the importance of a good nutritious start to the day and whip up oatmeal with prunes. Melanie hated oatmeal. And she hated prunes.
    Fifteen minutes later, dressed in beige pants and an olive-patterned top she’d bought on sale and never worn because it made her look sallow, teeth brushed, makeup on, stairs leaped down two at a time, she managed not to roll her eyes at the spread on the table. Toast, cereal, power bars, peanut butter, cheese…
    “You eat like this every morning?” She grabbed a power bar to keep the peace.
    “That color looks horrible on you.”
    “Thank you.” She relented when her sister looked contrite. “I know, but it’s the only thing I found that didn’t need ironing, and don’t say that if I kept my clothes hanging in the closet they wouldn’t get wrinkled.”
    Alana looked startled, then drew her fingers across her lips, zzzip. “Have a good day at work, dear.”
    Melanie giggled. “Thank you. Have fun with Sawyer. Try to stay out of bed with him, okay?”
    Alana scowled. “He’s gone already. Never to return, if he knows what’s good for him.”
    He’d be back. But Melanie wasn’t going to say that or risk starting another fight. She rushed to the door, rushed back and grabbed her purse. “I’ll be home for dinner. We can go to Gilles for burgers and custard. I know you didn’t get enough fat down there in Chicago-town. Bye!”
    She didn’t wait for her sister to tell her the exact calorie and cholesterol count of her planned dinner. Outside she hauled out her cell, dialed Edgar at Triangle Graphics where she worked downtown in the Third Ward. “Edgar, I’m late.”
    “That was noticed.”
    “I know, I know, fifth time this week and it’s Friday. I’m on my way, can you charm everyone for me?”
    “What’s wrong?”
    Melanie blinked. He was psychic. He had to be. She couldn’t imagine she’d shown any of her confusion and upset, but he always knew. “Nothing! All is good. Be there soon, bye!”
    She shut her phone, climbed into her ten-year-old blue Civic and started it up. Good old dependable Honey the Honda. Fifteen minutes later, only breaking a few speed limits, she pulled into the company parking lot, slammed Honey’s door and ran inside the