Booby Trap Read Online Free

The big, friendly animal is happier than a pig in a mud puddle with this arrangement. Meanwhile, back at Casa de Stevens-Grey, Seamus remains curled up, warm and snug, with Greg. It’s a win-win on all fronts. I miss walking with my friends, but to perk me up, Greg bought me an iPod, so now it’s me, Wainwright, and a playlist of upbeat rock ’n’ roll oldies walking the early morning beat.
    This morning, it about broke my heart to see Wainwright standing by the back door, his leash hanging from his mouth. I soothed my guilt with the knowledge that Greg took the dog to work with him every day. The animal is far from neglected.
    As Mike Steele is an early bird and his day is usually jam-packed, I decided the best time to get his attention would be early in the morning, before the office officially opened.
    I am a corporate paralegal at the law firm of Wallace, Boer, Brown and Yates, or “Woobie” as we people in the trenches affectionately call it. Although I technically work for all the attorneys in the firm, my supervising attorney is Michael Steele, a brilliant attorney who considers arrogance a virtue and sarcasm a grace. Steele also had the bad habit of going through secretaries like the Tasmanian Devil. It was a toss-up whether they left because of his obnoxious work habits or because they eventually had an affair with him and decided it wasn’t worth the aggravation to stick around when it was over, which was in pretty short order.
    Now don’t get me wrong: to my knowledge, Steele has never sexually harassed any of these women. That wouldn’t be his style. No, he’s more of the “woo them with charm and attention” type. Then, after they got to know him, they usually ran screaming from the office. My guess is a lot of the women thought the affair would turn into a commitment or at the very least a cushy job.
    Much to everyone’s happiness except Steele’s, those days seem to be over. For nearly five months, Jill Bernelli has worked as Steele’s assistant. She also assists Jolene McHugh, another attorney, and myself. Jill is the domestic partner of Sally Kipman, a former high-school classmate of mine, and is the picture of efficiency and patience. No matter what Steele throws at her, she catches it and throws it back like a catcher destined for the Baseball Hall of Fame. In a short time, Jill has become a favorite with Woobie attorneys and staff alike. And something tells me that even Steele secretly adores her. He may not have a secretary he can bed, but he definitely has a secretary who can match him in both his work and his wit.
    I let myself into the office suite at about seven thirty. Woobie opens officially at eight thirty, with most of the staff arriving around nine. In my hands were two large cups of designer coffee, one for me and one as an offering to Steele. The coffee didn’t come from one of the ubiquitous chains but rather from a little independent café near the beach that I knew was a favorite brunch hangout for Steele on weekends.
    Yes, I’ll admit it, the special brew was a bribe, an offering at the altar of knowledge and egotism—an attempt to soothe the bear before I asked him to share his honey.
    I found Steele right where I expected to find him—at his desk, his suit jacket already off and carefully hung on the wooden hanger on the back of his door. His fingers were busy on the keyboard of his computer, probably reading and responding to e-mails that had accumulated since last night.
    I knocked lightly on his doorjamb. He looked up, surprise registering on his handsome, freshly shaven face.
    “Jesus, Grey, a little early for a newlywed like you, isn’t it?” His fingers continued to stab at the keyboard while he spoke.
    “I need to ask you something, Steele. Got a minute?”
    “What? Greg filing for divorce already?” He looked back at the computer screen. “Whatever you do, ask for shared custody of the dog. That’ll force Greg to give you anything you want in the