What Are Friends For?. Naomi Horton
was. “So I can cancel the meeting with Production and Design?”
“Already took care of it. Bob and Frank are best buddies again, Purchasing is talking with Shoendorf about the problem, Bob shut down the assembly line until we run quality-control tests on all the boards in stock.... Crisis averted, thanks to you.”
Still laughing, Andie looked at his shirtfront and groaned. “I wish you’d put on a lab coat when you go down to the production floor to mess around. There’s a clean shirt in your office.”
“Don’t know what I’d do without you.” Another quick kiss and he was on his feet, looking around to smile at Olivia. “Hello, Liv, darlin’. Here to take me to lunch?”
“Forget it,” Andie spoke up promptly, her eyes glittering slightly. “We have to go over these figures again before this afternoon’s meeting. Make it dinner, or reschedule.”
Olivia smiled, reaching up to brush a smudge off his cheek, her fingers lingering there for a moment. “She takes such good care of you, doesn’t she?” she said sweetly.
There was something in her voice, in the very air around them, that made Conn look first at her, then at Andie. Both smiled beatifically, as charming as cats on a windowsill.
And as deadly, Conn thought uneasily. There was something a little dangerous in Andie’s eyes, and Olivia’s red fingernails flashed slightly as she took her hand from his cheek.
Now what? He knew Andie didn’t like Liv much, but there seemed to be an extra hint of hostility in the air today, a sense of something going on that he couldn’t quite identify.
Not that he deluded himself into thinking he’d figure it out in this lifetime. The complexities and rituals of female politics had always baffled the hell out of him. He’d decided a long time ago that the smartest thing a man could do was keep his head down and his butt safely out of the line of fire.
“Come on in and I’ll buy you a cup of coffee,” he said easily, putting his hand on Liv’s back and heading her gently but deliberately toward his office.
As the door closed behind them, he walked across to the hardwood table near the wall of windows overlooking Seattle’s waterfront. The coffee carafe was almost full and he poured two cups of the special blend he had Starbucks make up for him. He handed one to Liv. “Cheers.”
“More to the point, congratulations.”
“For?”
Liv’s mouth curved up in a gentle smile. “For finally getting rid of wife number two. It must feel nice, not having that hanging over you anymore.”
“Nice isn’t the word I would have chosen,” Conn said quietly. He still hadn’t entirely gotten used to the idea. He thought of Judith now deliberately, testing the memory for pain. Found only a weary sadness. “How did you find out? Don’t tell me the press has hold of it already.”
“A friend told a friend who told a friend who called me last night. I was going to drop by, but I had a dinner meeting that ran past midnight.”
Conn thought of the bottle of Scotch still sitting on his kitchen counter. “Probably a good thing you didn’t. I would have made lousy company.”
“Oh, I’m sure I could have come up with an idea or two guaranteed to raise your spirits. And who knows what else....” She grinned salaciously. “Come on, Connor, lighten up! You look like the hero in a Gothic novel, all scowl and thunder.”
He managed a rough smile. “It’s probably just the hangover.”
“Ahh.” She gave a knowing smile. “I see. It was that way, was it?”
He grunted something vaguely affirmative and walked across the room to drop into one of the big armchairs by the window. He usually enjoyed sparring with Olivia, but he was tired today. The kind of tired that went bone-deep and made him feel as if he’d never shake free of it. “So, what can I do for you, Liv?”
“God, so formal.” She kicked off her high heels and padded across to drop gracefully into the chair across from his. Lifting one long, curvaceous leg, she settled her bare foot into his lap. “You know why I’m here, Connor. I put a proposition to you a month ago. I’m still waiting for your answer.”
Conn settled both hands around her small foot and started massaging it. “I didn’t think you were serious, Liv.”
“Deadly.” She arched her foot, sighing in pleasure as he massaged her instep. “I want you to marry me. No strings, no fancy expectations, prenuptial agreements on both sides to protect our mutual business interests.”
“We could just sleep together and save the lawyers’ fees.”
She laughed. “Hell, I’ve been trying to get you into my bed for eight months, Devlin, with nothing to show for it but a near-terminal case of frustration.”
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