Cover Girl. Nic Tatano

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Cover Girl - Nic  Tatano


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most of the staff. We discussed a few changes and we’re gonna start when I go back today.”

      “Sounds like you’re off and running.”

      “Yep. Listen, I wonder if I could ask you a favor?”

      “Everyone wants favors today. But sure. Waddaya need?”

      “Well, I hate to even ask, but—”

      The phone buzzed again. “Hang on, Alex, be right back.”

      She punched Keira’s line. “Sorry to be playing call-juggling with you. I’ve got an important client on the other line.”

      “Not a problem, Bella. I know how busy your days are.”

      “So, what’s the favor and what’s it gonna cost me?”

      “It’s not gonna cost you anything, but I was hoping to make use of your wonderful Sicilian information-gathering service.”

      “I can’t get anybody whacked, if you wanna take out your CEO. Though I might do it as a public service since we all hate the tight ass.”

      She heard Keira laugh. “No, not that. But I wouldn’t complain if he went away.”

      Bella heard the editor exhale deeply. “Just spit it out, Keira.”

      “Geez, this is going to sound so unprofessional and I cannot believe I’m doing this, but Gretch is making me.”

      “Oh, this oughta be good.”

      “I was wondering if you could find out if Alexander is dating anyone.”

      Buzz. “Hang on a minute, Keira.” She switched lines. “I’m back, Alex, what’s your favor and make it quick.”

      “Can you, in some casual, backdoor way, let Keira know that I’m unattached?”

      “Seriously?”

      “Sorry, Bella, I know that’s not in your job description.”

      “Why don’t you just ask her out yourself?”

      “Well, I get the feeling she’s interested, but thinks I’m dating someone. I think if she knew I was available she’d send clearer signals that she’s receptive to a date.”

      “Lemme get this straight. You were a network reporter and you’re afraid to ask a girl out? How the hell did you ever interview women?”

      “The microphone and camera gave me license to do it. Otherwise I could never approach women I didn’t know.”

       Un-believable.

      Buzz.

      “Fine. Hang on, Alex.” Bella put him on hold, held out the phone and looked at it, shook her head, and said, “Do I look like friggin’ match-dot-com?” She switched lines. “So Keira, all you need to know is if he’s attached?”

      “Yeah.”

      “He’s not. It came up in conversation.”

      “Oh. Really.”

      “Yes. Really. And… he’s interested in you. That also came up. So does that make your day?”

      “Yeah, very much so.”

      “Fine. Look, I think he’s a little shy with women, so send him some signals, grab his ass, do whatever to let him know the feeling is mutual, capische?”

      “Got it, Bella. Thanks.”

      Buzz. “Later, Keira.” She switched lines. “Okay, Alex, I’ll take care of it. By the way, she’s interested.”

      “Oh, really. How do you know?”

      “She mentioned it when I talked with her earlier.”

      “Terrific.”

      “Fine. So ask the woman out. Go, have fun. And remember she’s a chocoholic. Anything else?”

      “No Bella, thanks so much. Talk later.”

      She ended the call and looked up as Rachel entered her office. “What?”

      Rachel backed up, eyes wide. “I just came in to see if you wanted coffee.”

      “Yes, sorry I snapped at you.”

      “Everything okay?”

      “Yeah. I think.”

      “You think?”

      “I also think I might be playing with fire.”

      Keira looked at the lunch selection as she waited for the barista to fix her coffee. The paninis looked appealing and made the prospect of eating at her desk more bearable. Her lunch meeting with an author had just fallen through, too late to make another appointment with anyone else, and Gretch had already taken off on an errand. Besides, Ring Girl was demanding her immediate attention and Alexander was coming by at one; it was almost as if Rose was calling her from the great beyond, acting as a guardian angel, telling her to get this book out as quickly as possible.

      And setting her up with her soul mate.

      “Keira!”

      The barista’s yell interrupted her train of thought. She raised her hand. “Right here.”

      The twenty-something peroxide walking ad for body piercing handed her the large Styrofoam cup with her name on it, spelled wrong as usual. “Anything else?”

      Keira pointed at the counter. “I’ll take that prosciutto and mozzarella panini.”

      “Half, right?”

      “No, I want the whole sandwich.”

      “Skinny thing like you gonna eat it all?”

      “Yep. To go, please.”

      The girl frowned. “Damn, you got the last one. I was hoping it would make it through lunch so I could have it.”

      “Them’s the breaks. Guess you guys need to make more of ‘em.”

      The barista grabbed the sandwich, wrapped it, put it in a bag, handed it to Keira and hit a few keys on the cash register. “Eleven-forty-three.”

      Keira swiped her credit card, waited a moment for approval, signed, and grabbed the receipt. “Thanks.”

      She quickly turned and ran right into a very tall man. The plastic lid on the cup flew up and the coffee shot out like it was being launched, covering his shirt.

      The guy screamed. “Ow! Dammit!”

      “Oh my God! I’m so sorry.” Keira grabbed a stack of napkins from the counter and started to pat the guy’s previously white starched shirt and red tie, now obviously ruined beyond repair.

      The guy gritted his teeth. “Sonofabitch, that’s hot.”

      “Dear God, are you burned?”

      “Don’t think so. But it sure woke me up.”

      A young guy with ‘manager’ written on his shirt ran around the counter. “Sir, you okay?”

      “I think I’ll live. Don’t worry, I won’t sue you for making hot coffee.” He looked down at his shirt and his face tightened.

      “Sir, I’ll be happy to loan you one of our barista shirts and pay for the dry cleaning. Lunch is on me as well.”

      “Thank you, that’s very kind.”

      Keira noted the guy wasn’t mad at all, taking the whole thing in stride.

      She also noted he was off-the-charts gorgeous. Maybe early thirties: thick, dark hair, Carolina-blue eyes, at least six-foot-four, maybe taller, and from the look of the wet shirt stuck to his body, a ripped torso.

       Ah, the old spill coffee on the hot guy trick.


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