Beneath The Surface. Linda Turner

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Beneath The Surface - Linda  Turner


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refrigerator and tossed them in the trash. Not giving himself time to think about what he was about to do, he pulled out the list of women Nancy Hartfield had given him, then reached for the phone.

      “Hello?”

      Logan flinched at the eager female voice that shrilled in his ears seconds after he finished punching in the first number on the list. Was the woman sitting by the phone, waiting for it to ring? he wondered. “Hi,” he said gruffly. “This is Logan St. John. Is this Missy Trainer?”

      “Yes! Did you get my name from the Right One Dating Service? I didn’t know if I should call or wait for someone to call me first. Have you called anyone else? This is just so exciting!”

      In her too high voice, she rushed on to tell him how she’d never had a serious relationship, but this time she just knew she was going to meet Mr. Right. Logan hoped she did, though he knew it wasn’t going to be him. Not that she gave him a chance to tell her that. Wound up like a battery-operated bunny, she just kept talking and talking and didn’t give him a chance to get a word in edgewise.

      “I’m sorry,” he cut in abruptly. “But there’s someone at the door. We’ll have to talk another time.”

      “What? Oh…well, okay.”

      He hung up before she could say another word, then almost threw the dating list in the trash. This was nuts! What was he doing? He loved Faith. He wasn’t going to forget her by talking to someone like Missy Trainer!

      So call someone else.

      He almost didn’t. But Patty and Carter knew he’d gone to the dating service today, and before the night was over, one of them would call to see if he’d set up any dates yet. Muttering a curse, Logan reached for the phone and punched in the second number on the list. He hoped they appreciated this, he thought. There weren’t many people he would do this for.

      Praying that the second woman on the list wouldn’t be as bad as the first, he braced himself for God knows what as an answering machine clicked on and a mechanical voice said, “I can’t come to the phone at the moment. Leave a number at the beep.”

      Disgusted, he sighed. Apparently, this wasn’t his night. “Hello,” he said, leaving a message. “This is Logan St. John. I’m looking for Abby Saunders. I got her number from the Right One Dating Service…”

      Chapter 2

      In the process of changing out of her work clothes into jeans and a T-shirt, Abby froze at the sound of the deep male voice rumbling from her answering machine. She’d left the dating service only two and a half hours ago and she was already getting a call? She wasn’t ready!

      Her heart pounding wildly, she stared at the phone as if it were a snake about to strike. She shouldn’t have listened to Lily and Rachel and Natalie. They might think they could go after happiness and find the American dream, but Abby should have known she couldn’t pull this off. There were some women who were just destined to go through life alone, and she was obviously one of them.

      Her stomach in knots, her insecurities choking her, she almost let the answering machine finish taking the call. But she couldn’t forget her high-school reunion, couldn’t forget the expressions of her classmates on the dance floor. They’d been so happy, so in love with their partners. Watching them, she’d never felt lonelier…or more envious.

      So talk to Logan St. John. This could be your chance…your only chance to have what you want! All you have to do is pick up the phone.

      Still she hesitated. Men wanted someone who was pretty and flirtatious, who’d hang on their every word as if they’d just hung the moon. How could she do that? She wasn’t pretty, and she was too insecure to flirt. Why hadn’t she realized that sooner and spared herself this misery?

      “If you want to talk, I’ll be in the rest of the evening. Give me a call at…”

      When he started to rattle off his home phone number, she panicked. He was going to hang up! Furious with herself for being such a coward, she reached for the phone and snatched it up. “Hello?”

      Her tone was almost defiant. Taken aback, Logan wondered if he had the wrong number. “Is this Abby Saunders?”

      “Yes, it is.”

      So the dating service had picked a defiant one for him, Logan thought with a groan. That was just great. First an air-head and now a woman full of anger. He was batting a thousand. Wait until he told Carter and Patty. Talk about a waste of money!

      “I thought we might talk,” he said stiffly. “But I obviously caught you at a bad time.”

      “No! Please don’t hang up,” she said quickly. “After the way I answered the phone, you must think I’ve got some kind of chip on my shoulder. I did sound pretty angry.”

      “Actually, the word defiant comes to mind.”

      “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “It’s nothing against you personally. It’s just that when I heard your voice on the answering machine, all I could think of was that I must have been out of my mind when I signed up with the dating service. I’m not good at this kind of thing.”

      Logan had to admit that he liked her honesty. “I take it I’m the first date to call you?”

      “And I’ve already blown it. I’m just so nervous.”

      “It’s okay,” he assured her. “I know how you feel. I wouldn’t even be talking to you if my brother and sister hadn’t signed me up for the dating service without telling me.”

      “You’re kidding! They didn’t even warn you?”

      “Not until they’d signed on the dotted line and forked over a ridiculous amount of money. They were worried about me. I’ve…been keeping to myself a lot since my wife died last year.”

      “Oh, I’m sorry. Was she sick?”

      “No, it was a car accident.” Abruptly changing the subject, he said, “What about you? Have you been out of the dating scene for a while? Is that why you decided to join the Right One?”

      “Actually, I don’t know that I was ever a part of the dating scene,” she admitted wryly. “Oh, I’ve dated, but none of the men I went out with were exactly winners. I never had much confidence in myself.”

      “Maybe that’s about to change,” he said easily. “What do you do for a living?”

      “I’m a secretary. How about you? What do you do?”

      “I’m a reporter.”

      Surprised, she gasped. “You’re that Logan St. John? The one with the Gazette?”

      He grinned. “Obviously, you’ve read my work.”

      “I love your unsolved crime stories. You’re very good.”

      He wasn’t one to boast about his writing or preen when praised. “Thank you,” he said simply. “So tell me more about yourself. Are you originally from Austin?”

      “Actually, I was born in Liberty Hill, Colorado. It’s a small town—”

      “Near Aspen,” he finished for her. “I’ve driven through there on my way to Aspen. How’d you end up in Austin?”

      “Work,” she said wryly. “I was working for an insurance company in Denver and got transferred down here. I ended up quitting that job, but decided to stay in Texas. What about you? Are you from Austin originally?”

      “Born and raised,” he replied with a chuckle. “The entire family lives here—grandparents, parents, my three brothers and my sister.”

      “Oh, that’s nice! I only have one sister, and my parents were both only children, so we didn’t have any extended family when we were growing up except for grandparents…and they lived in Florida.”

      “Things were


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