Attitude Read Online Free Page B

and brought the tent image back. Ginger wouldn't work, either for business or pleasure. Well, maybe pleasure.
    Hudson straightened in his chair. "Then let's do it. Let's talk movies. What're you opening with?"
    "No Friend At All. Snagged it at Sundance."
    "That's the comedy with that new guy... Kiff something."
    "Quick. Kiff Quick. And yes, it's as funny as the buzz says it is. I couldn't have a better opener."
    "All right!" Hudson pulled out a notepad and pen. "So, let's hear it. What are you looking for?"
    Cal leaned back in his chair and started talking, while Hudson listened, questioned, and jotted down the occasional note. Cal felt better already, his guilt about canceling his appointment with Ginger dissipated with every question Hudson asked. For the first time in weeks he stopped worrying about his opening night.
    He was doing the right thing here. And with luck he'd never see the Cameron woman again.
    * * *
    Ginger stared at the theater doors, paralyzed. To say she was tense would be the mother of all understatements.
    High pressure selling was one thing, but what she was about to do ranked up there with force-feeding and entrapment. She tried the doors, unlocked just as they'd been two days ago. She let out a relieved breath.
    Inside the lobby, she heard men's voices; deep, rumbling, and too muted to hear properly. Taking another second to compose herself, she marched to Beaumann's office, a warship on a mission, armored in gunmetal gray wool, white shirt buttoned to the throat, and practical leather pumps. She eased her collar away from her neck with her index finger and rapped on the half open door to Cal's office. With a slight shove, it opened wide enough to show two men sitting at the desk.
    Cal's feet were propped on one end, the other man's at the other. Both sets of feet hit the floor in tandem. The stranger stood and Cal gaped. She had a moment of satisfaction at the guilt on his face. He looked like an ex-con who'd spotted his parole officer at an illegal arms sale.
    "Am I early?" Ginger asked. She directed her question to Cal and shot a friendly, innocent glance at the other man in the room. She hoped she looked ingenuous but doubted it. She was the world's worst poker player.
    "I called," Cal said bluntly. "Cancelled the appointment."
    "You did?" She widened her eyes, ever so little.
    "I did," he repeated with a read-my-lips expression on his face. "Left the message with your assistant. Tracy?"
    "That explains it, then," Ginger said, stepping into the office as if she belonged there. "First off, Tracy's not my assistant. She's my housemate. An artist, actually. A good one. She just answers the phone sometimes when I'm out... if she feels like it. This time, obviously, she forgot to give me the message." She stopped, both her babbling and her white lying, and cleared her throat. She'd got the message all right, and decided to ignore it. She smoothed down one of her gray wool lapels, but didn't move to go. "Too bad."
    "Yeah." Cal's eyes narrowed. "I can see you're really torn up about it."
    She focused on him. "I said I'd be back in two days, Mr. Beaumann, and here I am. I generally do what I say I'm going to do. Of course, if you really want me to leave..." She held her breath.
    They stared at one another, two cats on a narrow fence.
    "Anyone care to introduce us?" the other man said, his expression quizzical—and amused.
    "No point. The lady won't be staying," Cal said.
    Ginger turned to the other man. "Ginger Cameron, Ginger Ink."
    He took her hand. "Hudson Blaine, The Blaine Group. My pleasure."
    Ginger's spirit withered. "I've heard of your firm, Mr. Blaine." The Blaine Group was one of the most talked about PR firms in L.A. It didn't take a Mensa member to figure out what he was doing in Cal's office. But she wouldn't quit now. Trouble was, she didn't know where to go from here. "You do fabulous work."
    "And that's yours?" He nodded at her bulging portfolio.
    She nodded back.
    "I'd like to see