Love Letters, Inc. by Ec Sheedy

Author:Ec Sheedy [Sheedy, Ec]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B006NPVTE2
Published: 2011-12-17T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

"That's nice. That's real nice," Rosie said, trying to widen her eyes enough to appear somewhat interested. Not that it mattered. Roland was a lot more interested in Roland than conversational feedback.

What the heck had Jonesy been thinking of to set her up -with this guy? She looked at her watch. The way she had it figured, she'd been here about six weeks, and they hadn't even been served dinner yet. There had to be a way out of this date. She massaged her newly accessible throat and clamped her teeth over a welling yawn. Maybe she could convince ole Roland to FedEx his ego to her place. She'd stroke it a few hundred times and send it back. Easier for all concerned. While Roland droned on about Roland, she tried to come up with an escape plan.

She couldn't risk kicking Jonesy under the table again, or the woman would be going home in a wheelchair. Obviously Jonesy liked her own date. Sheesh!

Should've brought my own car, darn it. If Jonesy reneges on her promise to drive me home, I'll—

"What are you doing here, O'Hanlon?"

The voice came from behind her, cool and unfriendly. Rosie looked up and into the last pair of eyes she expected to see. And of course she was immediately warm all over, glad, mad, and befuddled.

"Kent?" she questioned, hitting a high note on the dumb response-o-meter.

"Last I checked," he said mirthlessly, nodding in Jonesy's direction and giving her a smile that looked as though it had already been used. Jonesy raised a brow and grinned back. Without acknowledging the two men at the table, Kent turned his gaze back to Rosie and positively glowered at her.

"Shouldn't you be home in bed?" He gestured toward her naked neck and glared.

She stared, certain she looked like an owl on Prozac. Kent hadn't so much as glanced at Roland, and Rosie knew she should be angry at his high-handedness, his surly tone, and his lack of good manners, but she was either too stupidly pleased that he'd shown up or too leaden with boredom to drum up the necessary fire. She'd figure out which later. A golden opportunity knocked.

She reached down, gripped her bag as if it were a life preserver, and stood. "You're absolutely right. That's precisely where I should be. And you're the perfect man to take me there." She shot a quick glance at Roland, who was blinking so fast he couldn't work his mouth. "You'll excuse us, won't you? Thanks so much."

It was Kent's turn to blink. But to his credit, he didn't hesitate. He took her arm and steered her through the crowd as if he were Moses and Monk's was the Red Sea. He stopped briefly to speak to a man sitting at one of the tables, and the next minute they were outside waiting for the parking attendant to bring his car around.

Rosie breathed deep of the cool evening air. She'd been unforgivably rude, but she doubted she'd so much as scuffed Roland's sacred selfhood.

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