Page 256 of Love Bites

CHAPTER16

“Remember that gem I was telling you about last week?” Mona asked me after Doc ditched me back at Calamity Jane’s.

I dropped my purse on my desk and swung by the coffee maker for a hit of caffeine to spur me through the last two hours of work. “Sure. It was about $50,000 out of Doc’s price range.”

Mona waved away my frown. “Don’t worry about the price.”

No problem. While we were visiting Fantasy Island, I’d like a million bucks and Salma Hayek’s body, too, please.

“I’ll have the place ready to show on Friday. Bring your client by at lunch.”

“Okay.” I sat down with my cup of coffee, flipped open my daytimer, and riffled through several empty pages.

When Jane hired me almost three months ago, I’d had big plans, and even bigger dreams. Looking back, I should have saved the thirty bucks I paid for the fancy datebook and gotten one of those credit-card-sized yearly calendars instead. At least the tip chart on the back might have come in useful.

I scribbled Doc’s name on the page. I’d have to give him a call to make sure he wasn’t going to be too busy sleeping with Natalie on Friday to view the place with me.

Meow!I sat back, lowered my pen. Whoa. I needed to cage that sabertooth tiger before she bit the wrong hand—like Natalie’s, when she came over tonight to gush about Doc.

My desk phone rang. I silently offered a certain chicken for sacrifice to the Realty Gods in exchange for someone calling to buy a home, a trailer, a tool shed, a dog house, anything. “Calamity Jane Realty, Violet speaking.”

“Hey, Vi.” Natalie said.

Damn. Addy’s chicken would cluck and peck for another day.

“I was just thinking about you,” I told her.

“Something good, I hope?”

“Of course,” I lied.

“Sweet, because you’re going to be upset with me.”

“Why?”

“I can’t come to dinner tonight. Mom just called. Dad has some kind of stomach flu, and with Mom’s hip out of commission, she needs help. So I’m headed out to Hill City for the night.”

Darn, no Doc-fantasy details. Woe was me. “That’s okay. We’ll do it another night.”

“How about tomorrow?”

“No, Wolfgang asked me out.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know, but he mentioned having a surprise for me.”

“I hope it’s something erotic and edible.”

“I’d settle for just edible.”

“Well,” Natalie continued, “Thursday won’t work for me. I’m having Doc over for dinner that night—and breakfast on Friday, if everything goes as planned.”

Blah blah Doc blah sex blah blah. “That sounds fun.”

“How about Friday?”

“I have plans.” With a secret-admiring psycho. “Saturday?”

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