Page 16 of Good at Being Bad (Rock Canyon, Idaho 8)

Ellie Willis, who had been turning over a new leaf from her former troublesome ways, is backsliding big-time. Last night she made quite the scene at Buck’s Shot Bar. Did she cross a line when she targeted resident favorite Mike Stevens about an overheard comment? I believe the word sexist was tossed out at one point. Normally this wouldn’t be gossip, but moments before Ellie had alluded to another bystander that there was a hookup between the two. So, was this really about feminism, or is Ellie a lover scorned?

Blurting what she had at the bar was a stupid move. If she’d known how many questions about Mike she’d spend her weekend fielding, she would’ve kept her mouth shut. It had been impulse. Definitely not jealousy.

Right?

When she’d stopped off to grab breakfast at The Local Bean, Mrs. Andrews hadn’t had a problem telling Ellie that she’d probably misheard Mike and that he was a good man who’d never insult a lady.

Ellie had resisted the urge to laugh and tell her he already had. Because then Mrs. Andrews would probably tell her that she wasn’t a lady.

Who cared, anyway? Being proper and ladylike was overrated.

Yet here she was, doing the right thing, hoping she could catch Mike today before he decided to take revenge on her computer or, worse, follow through with not fixing it at all.

She stopped alongside Mike’s desk, looking toward a closed door. “Hello?”

Nothing.

Maybe he’s in the bathroom. Or he’s hiding because he doesn’t want to see me again?

Mike didn’t come off as a coward, though. He hadn’t backed down the other night, that was for sure. She didn’t like that she had noticed a vein swell in his forehead and that his eyes had seem to darken to ink-black when he was angry.

It was insanely hot, but she didn’t want to think it was.

Ellie bent over Mike’s desk, eyeballing the pictures he had scattered about. There was one of him and an older couple, probably his parents, and another that looked like a high school dance group shot. Ellie squinted at the faces and was pretty sure she recognized Gracie and her best friend, Gemma Bowers, among the couples. Her gaze returned to Mike, who had longer hair in the picture, and his shoulders weren’t as wide, but he still had that beautiful smile and wore a pair of black-framed glasses.

Ellie set the plate of cookies down and reached out to pick up the frame to get a better look, but she bumped a pile of files in the process.

“Shit.” She gathered them and as she put them back a tiny black notebook grabbed her attention.

Curiosity made her fingers itch

.

Don’t look. It’s none of your business.

Unable to resist, she picked up the book and flipped it open to the first page.

This book is TOP SECRET. If you haven’t been given it, do not read it!

Ellie rolled her eyes and turned the page.

Never show fear. Women want a man who is confident and takes charge without being an asshole. They don’t want a guy who’s unsure or who hesitates. Ask her if she prefers Japanese or Italian. When she answers, say, “Great, I know the perfect place.” At the end of the night, if you want to see her again, lean down and leave your lips just above hers. If she sways your way, keep going. If she hesitates, say something like, “I don’t want to move too fast, but you’re so beautiful, I’m dying to kiss you.” 90% effective for first date kiss. 30% effective for being invited inside.

Ellie was laughing so hard, she almost didn’t hear Mike come in from the back, loudly singing…

Michael Jackson?

“Cause I’m bad. I’m bad. Shamoan!”

Ellie dropped the notebook on his desk and tried to act casual as he came around the corner with his headphones in. The minute he saw her, he stopped dancing and stared at her like a deer caught in headlights.

This was not how she imagined repairing the rift between them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—s”

“What?” Mike said, jerking out his headphones, his handsome face tomato-red. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here. Were you waiting long?”

“No, it’s fine. I was just coming by to say, well…I wanted to apologize for the other night. What I said was out of line.” Why the hell was she stammering like an idiot?

Mike ran his hand over his face and head, messing up his slicked hair. “At least Miss Know-It-All didn’t mention that I may have herpes, so it could have been worse. The headline could have read, Mike Steven Is the Perfect Candidate for A ‘No Glove No Love’ Poster.”

---