Claimed by Her Web Master (Web Master #3) Read Online Free Page A

question.
    Kate texted back. “They’re gone for the day. I left a message.”
    “Call them the minute they open in the morning. Then call me immediately afterward.”
    “Ten-four boss.”
    Kate was a smartass. A short, sassy firecracker with wildly highlighted hair and a gymnast’s body. She looked like she could have been in the Olympics. I’d asked her about it once, and she’d looked at me like I was high but admitted that she had run track in high school.
    Gymnastics/track—what was the fucking difference? She was an athlete either way. My bad, Miss Sensitivity.
    Damn, I was irritable. I looked around the room. I’d go crazy if I sat in that room staring at the four walls for the rest of the night trying not to think about what could be the matter with Sophie. I was so fucking tempted to call her again, and I knew I had to get out of there or I would.
    Taking what I termed a preventative measure, I grabbed my jacket and headed out the door. The way things were progressing, I was going to need a serious distraction from all things Sophie. I needed a different brand of trouble—and I knew just where to find it.

    * * *
    I was awakened by a pair of horns blaring “The Eyes of Texas” in my ear. Like a lovesick teenager in a drunken stupor, I’d changed all my ringtones last night to ones with “Texas” themes in honor of the woman who’d broken my heart.
    Huh! I jumped in my chair. It took me a few minutes to get my bearings, realize where I was and find my phone. It was in my front pocket. “Hello?”
    “Hey, boss. It’s Kate.”
    “Yeah, Kate! What did you find out?” My stomach lurched, and I wondered how close the nearest bathroom was. The rumblings in my gut warned me I was going to need one.
    “Where are you, boss? What’s that I hear in the background?”
    “Nothing. What did you find out?”
    “Quentin, you’re in a casino, aren’t you? Those are slot machines I hear, aren’t they?”
    I rubbed my aching temples with my fingers. “None of your fucking business, Kate. Now what’s the matter with Sophie?”
    Kate’s mission had been to call Dr. Morgan pretending to be Sophie. She was to say that she needed to reschedule her appointment and obtain as much information about the upcoming doctor’s visit as she could without coming across suspiciously.
    “No need to be so testy. I’m just jealous. Stuck in a cubicle all week, ya know?”
    “Sophie, Kate! What the fuck is wrong with Sophie?” If I could have reached my hands through the phone to strangle the information out of her I would have.
    “God, anyone ever tell you that you are not a morning person?”
    I seethed quietly and took a deep breath.
    “Well, I don’t know if you would say anything is wrong with her, boss. But this Sophie chick—she’s pregnant.”
    “What?” Something in my throat caught, and I choked.
    “You okay, boss?”
    I dropped the phone on the floor, sputtering. I picked up a watered-down drink next to the slot machine I was sitting in front of and took a slug, refusing to acknowledge that I just inhaled some cigarette ashes from a drink that was likely not mine.
    When my coughing fit subsided, I picked the phone up off the ground. “Sorry. Dropped the phone. Tell me everything you found out.” My legs shook, and I scanned the room for a waitress.
    “Well, your plan worked like a charm. They believed I was her. I asked them if there was anything I needed to bring to my appointment, and they said the only things I needed to bring to my first prenatal checkup were the date of my last period and a list of any medications I’ve taken, though they recommend I stop taking everything. I rescheduled the appointment. I hope that’s okay.”
    “Sure. Just call back next week and cancel it, all right?”
    “Sure thing, Quentin. You all right? I take it this is not good news?” Having Kate be the bearer of this news over the phone while I sat in the Indian Village Casino with a raging hangover qualified as