Foul Play - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,6
go around kissing each other if we were working together. It would be … awkward.”
Jake thought it would be wonderful. He couldn’t imagine more ideal working conditions.
He set the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and looked around. It was nice. Light and airy. Beige wall-to-wall carpet in the living room-dining room. Creamy-colored sheers on the front windows. A big comfy-looking couch in sort of a rosy color. The walls were freshly painted eggshell white. The house had an air of cleanliness and order. It was a peaceful haven—not what he would have expected of Lulu the Clown. And it was very different from his own cramped, messy apartment. He slouched against the counter.
“You’ve decided to take the receptionist job?”
“It would only be temporary.”
“Of course.”
“And no kisses.”
“Of course.”
Amy didn’t know whether she should trust his answers or not. He might have said “of course” but his eyes were sending a message all their own. It didn’t matter. She needed the job, and she could handle Jacob Elliott. She would be friendly but professional, pleasant but firm. Everything would be fine.
Amy drained her wineglass and dumped the package of ground meat into a large Pyrex bowl. She added an egg, a small amount of grated cheese, bread crumbs, and freshly chopped parsley. She narrowed her eyes, and her upper lip curled slightly. “Now we have to be brave. We have to mush this stuff together. Are you ready?”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”
“We gotta wump it a good one.” She wrinkled her nose and plunged her fist into the mixture. “Wump.” She stared glassy-eyed at her target. “Needs something. Ketchup.”
Jake added a dollop of ketchup and returned to his stool in the middle of the kitchen. She was snockered—on one glass of wine. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes he wouldn’t have believed it.
The raw egg and ketchup squished between Amy’s fingers. “Yuck! Lucky for you I have a strong stomach. Not everyone can mix meatballs with their bare hands,” she said, plopping a lump of meatball goo in her hand. She attempted to roll it into a ball, but it stuck to her fingers and went flaccid in her palm. She looked at it in dismay and chewed on her lip. “Can’t understand what’s the matter. I’m always such a good meat-baller.”
“Maybe we should just pop a couple of those TV dinners into the oven.”
Amy held her hand up. “No need. I’ll have everything under control in just a minute. More bread crumbs!” she ordered.
“Um … we’re out of bread crumbs.”
Amy paused. “Tell you the truth, I’m not hungry, anyway.” She poured out more wine and leaned against the counter. Jake had four eyes. Funny she hadn’t noticed that before. And he was fuzzy. She should bring that to his attention. “Jacob, you’re fuzzy … and your mouth is crooked.”
“How about we put some water on for coffee, hmm?”
“Never drink coffee. Makes me nervous.” Amy placed her wineglass on the toaster. “Look, I can make my wineglass wobble on the toaster, can you do that?”
She took an unsteady step toward him and walked her fingers up the front of his shirt. “Know what? I’m drunk as a skunk. Good thing you’re such a nice person. There are men who would take advantage of a situation like this.”
Jake watched her fingers move from his collar to his neck. They slid along the outer rim of his ear and tangled in his hair. He felt her breasts nudge against the wall of his chest and he wasn’t sure if he deserved her trusting compliment.
“That’s me … all-around nice person.” What was she doing now? Lord, she was nibbling at the base of his throat. And her hands … where were her hands going? “Listen, Amy, even nice people lose control. I mean, they have moments when—”
“Not me. Never lose control. Cool as a cucumber.”
“Easy for you to say, but it’s hard for me to be cool when you’ve got your hands on my backside.”
Amy looked down. Sure enough, her hands had found their way into his back pockets. She must be dreaming because she’d never attacked—never even thought of attacking—a man in her life. “Oh. Does that bother you?”
“Yes!”
“Me too. Is it warm in here?”
“I thought you were cool. Never lost control.”
“Never have before.” Her eyes opened wide. “This could be a moment-ee-ous occasion. You know why, Jake? Because you make me tingle. That’s a first. Are you going to be the first? Wanna know