Wife by Wednesday - By Catherine Bybee Page 0,1

argued with someone on his phone. At the counter ordering, was a couple pushing a stroller. Stepping farther in, Blake noticed the small frame of the back of a woman with a mass of curly auburn hair. Her toe tapped anxiously, or maybe she was listening to music through a set of ear buds. Eyes still skimming the small crowd, Blake found a lone man occupying a plush chair. He wore a casual pair of pants and looked to be in his late forties. Instead of a briefcase, the man held a book. Blake narrowed his eyes and caught the other man's attention. Instead of a flicker of understanding, the man's dark gaze fell back to his book.

Damn, maybe Mr. Elliot was caught in the same traffic.

Late never boded well for prospective clients, no matter what business they were in.

If Blake had other choices, he'd turn and leave.

Walking past the lone redhead, Blake stepped around the stroller and ordered a plain coffee, then resigned himself to sit for a few minutes and wait. He placed his briefcase on an empty table and turned to get his coffee when the teenage kid behind the counter called his name.

The hard weight of someone's stare rolled down his spine. His eyes scanned around the room to see who watched. Instantly, his gaze fell on a set of emerald green eyes that narrowed as they took him in. The petite woman sitting alone wasn't listening to music, or reading a magazine. She was staring directly at him.

Her striking gaze returned to a small notebook computer before bouncing back his way. Recognition flittered over her. He'd seen the expression before whenever someone placed his name with his image. Here in California, the frequency of that awareness didn't happen as often as it did at home, but Blake recognized it nonetheless.

The woman seemed harmless enough. That was until she opened her mouth and spoke directly to him. "You're late."

Two words. It took two words in a voice so low it dripped like sin and put phone sex operators to shame to render Blake speechless.

Red's words registered. "Excuse me?"

"You are Mr. Harrison, right?"

The question was simple, but Blake couldn't quite comprehend it. He answered on auto-pilot, completely derailed by the woman in front of him. She stood and only met the top of his shoulder. "I am."

"Sam Elliot," she introduced herself and stuck out her hand for him to shake.

It wasn't often that Blake was kicked back a few notches. Yet with only a couple of words, the woman in front of him had done so. He reached out and took her hand in his and a wave of heat surged over him. Her penetrating stare and knowing smile wavered when they shook hands. Her palm was cool, even if her demeanor was one of complete control.

"You're not a man." Blake wanted to groan. That had to be the stupidest thing he'd ever said to a woman in his life.

Ms. Elliot however, was nonplused. "Never have been." She offered him a smile and exposed perfect teeth as she removed her hand from his. He missed it instantly.

"I was expecting a man."

"I get that a lot. Most of the time it works to my advantage." She indicated the chair across from her. "Would you like to sit so we can get started?"

He hesitated, not sure if he should continue this "interview" or insist on the woman's gender to change. He didn't consider himself sexist, but musing over the woman who was taking her seat and crossing her slacks-covered legs drew his attention away from his goal, and placed it squarely on her. Sam Elliot could be the poster child for contradiction and Blake hadn't learned anything about the woman... yet.

Ten minutes was what he would give her to prove she could meet his needs. If she didn't, he'd move on and explore other options.

Blake unbuttoned the top button on his suit jacket before taking his place at the table. "Is Sam short for Samantha?"

"Yes." Samantha didn't meet his eyes as she removed a stack of papers from a small case she'd placed against the side of her chair. The brief smile she'd given him was gone and replaced with a thin line between her lips that didn't reveal her thoughts.

"Do you use Sam to fool your clients?"

Her hand stalled as she pushed the stack of papers in his direction. "Would you have come if you knew I was a woman?"

Probably not.

Without voicing his words, Samantha tilted her head