An Offer He Cant Refuse - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,9

warming her shoulders, her collarbone, the full mounds of flesh below that ached for his touch. Ached for -

"Johnny." She said the name aloud and only then remembered that's who she was talking to. Her face burned again. "Yes. Right. Johnny. What can I do for you?"

"Meet me."

"Meet you?" Her business instincts perking, she sat straighter in her chair. "Certainly I'll meet you."

She'd have to wear exactly the right outfit - her IBM-blue suit, she decided. Two days before their appointment, she'd book a fruit-acid facial, then have her nails done the next. Going to her purse, she dug through it again for her PDA. "How about the end of the week, or - "

"Meet me today. Later this afternoon."

'This afternoon? In the wrinkly linen dress? And she was pretty sure there was a chip in the polish on her right big toe. Yes, she was wearing closed-toe shoes, but still -

"I know it's short notice, but I've already arranged for a private flight from Las Vegas to Palm Springs and I want to make my decision about a designer as soon as possible."

Did that mean he wanted to make his decision today! Today, when she was wearing her worst lingerie, the scratchy bra and the panties that - good God, what did her underclothing matter? She had bigger worries.

Today, today, Johnny Magee wanted to meet with her. Today when everything had gone wrong. Today when it was imperative she make certain Eve and Joey understood she wouldn't involve herself with the Carusos or their ilk ever again.

"Of course, if it's impossible..." he started.

"No!" Nothing was impossible when it came to winning this job - it was the only thing more important than winning over her sisters. "What time did you have in mind?"

As they finalized the details, Tea found her anxiety easing and her hope rising. Maybe it was due to Johnny Magee's beguiling, bedtime voice. Maybe it was because her bargain seemed to be working out after all. Sure, the day had had its unpleasant moments, and she'd have to leave things unfinished with her sisters, but if she bagged this design job, then what had started out wrong might end up very, very right.

"Now," he finally said. "What can I bring you by way of apology?"

Leaning against the back of her chair, she discovered she was smiling. "Apology?"

"For the trouble I'm certain to cause you."

"You won't cause me any trouble,"she scoffed.

"You might be surprised," he warned.

But she didn't take him seriously. Not when the worst trouble a design job had ever thrown her way was finding a fountain in the shape of a mammoth-sized sea urchin. She knew real trouble. She'd seen it, smelled it, been a part of it. "I'll take my chances."

'Then you sound like my kind of woman. Still, is there something special you'd like from Las Vegas as thanks for the last-minute meeting?"

"I wouldn't know what to ask for," she answered. "I've never been to Las Vegas."

"Never?" He sounded shocked.

"Never. My father cautioned me against gambling and gamblers a long time ago."

There was a little pause. Then he laughed. It was low and intimate and the warm sound of it only added to Tea's certainty. Things were finally turning around for her. Not just for today, not just for her career. But for her life.
Chapter Four
"Ain't That a Kick in the Head" Dean Martin Return to Me (1956-61)

Whistling the cheery opening of a TVLand Andy Griffith episode, Tea reached Johnny Magee's newly purchased property on El Deseo Drive. Its street frontage, two city blocks long, was screened by a twelve-foot-high wall of concrete block, the fencing material of choice in a climate that brutalized wood. He needed to contract with a landscaper as well, she noted. The intricate pattern created by the grainy, modular pieces was designed not only for beauty but for a practical flow of air, a purpose thwarted by the volunteer Mexican palms growing in profusion behind the wall. Their spiny fans thrust through the openings in the block as if to keep prying eyes out and dirty secrets in.

Secrets.

Her pursed lips sounded a sour note as the word crawled down her back. She couldn't help but think of her grandfather again. Or rather, she thought of that engraved invitation he'd sent. When she'd swung by the office to pick up the Magee portfolio, it had seemed to hiss at her from its place in her inbox.

To drown out the memory, she took up whistling again, louder, and pressed her