Deal Breaker Read Online Free Page A

from the innocence of her dorm room to the back pages of
Nips
magazine?
    That was when he spotted the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
    She was sitting on a stool, her long legs crossed, sipping gently at her drink. She wore a white blouse opened at the throat, a short gray skirt, and black stockings. Everything clung just right. For a fleeting moment Myron thought she was just a by-product of his daydream, adazzling vision to tantalize the senses. But the knot in his stomach made him quickly dismiss that notion. His throat went dry. Deep, dormant emotions crashed down upon him like a surprise wave at the beach.
    He managed to swallow and commanded his legs to move forward. She was, quite simply, breathtaking. Everything else in the bar faded into the background, as though they were only stage props set for her.
    Myron approached. “Come here often?” he asked.
    She looked at him like he was an old man jogging in a Speedo. “Original line,” she said. “Very creative.”
    “Maybe not,” he said. “But what a delivery.” He smiled. Winningly, he thought.
    “Glad you think so.” She turned back to her drink. “Please leave.”
    “Playing hard to get?”
    “Get lost.”
    Myron grinned. “Stop it already. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
    “Pardon me.”
    “It’s obvious to everyone in this bar.”
    “Oh?” she remarked. “Do enlighten.”
    “You want me. Bad.”
    She almost smiled. “That obvious, huh?”
    “Don’t blame yourself. I’m irresistible.”
    “Uh-huh. Catch me if I swoon.”
    “I’m right here, sweetcakes.”
    She sighed deeply. She was as beautiful as ever, as beautiful as the day she had walked out on him. He hadn’t seen her in four years, but it still hurt to think about her. It hurt even more to look at her. Their weekend at Win’s house on Martha’s Vineyard came to him. He could still remember the way the ocean breeze blew her hair, the way she tilted her head when he spoke, theway she looked and felt in his old sweatshirt. Simple fragile bliss. The knot in his stomach tightened.
    “Hello, Myron,” she said.
    “Hello, Jessica. You’re looking well.”
    “What are you doing here?” she asked.
    “My office is upstairs. I practically live here.”
    She smiled. “Oh, that’s right. You represent athletes now, don’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Better than working all that undercover stuff?”
    Myron did not bother answering. She glanced at him but did not hold the gaze.
    “I’m waiting for someone,” Jessica said suddenly.
    “A male someone?”
    “Myron …”
    “Sorry. Old reflex.” He looked at her left hand. His heart back-flipped when he saw no rings. “You never married what’s-his-name?” he asked.
    “Doug.”
    “That’s right. Doug. Or was it Dougie?”
    “You’re making fun of someone’s name?”
    Myron shrugged. She had a point. “So what happened to him?”
    Her eyes studied a beer ring on the bar. “It wasn’t about him,” she said. “You know that.”
    He opened his mouth and then closed it. Rehashing the bitter past was not going to do any good. “So what brings you back to the city?”
    “I’m going to be teaching a semester at NYU.”
    His heart sped up again. “You moved back to Manhattan?”
    “Last month.”
    “I’m really sorry about your father’s—”
    “We got your flowers,” she interrupted.
    “I wanted to do more.”
    “Better you didn’t.” She finished her drink. “I have to go. It was nice seeing you.”
    “I thought you were meeting someone.”
    “My mistake, then.”
    “I still love you, you know.”
    She stood, nodded.
    “Let’s try again,” he said.
    “No.”
    She walked away.
    “Jess?”
    “What?”
    He considered telling her about her sister’s picture in the magazine. “Can we have lunch sometime?” he asked. “Just talk, okay?”
    “No.”
    Jessica turned and left him. Again.
        Windsor Horne Lockwood III listened to Myron’s story with his fingers steepled. Steepling looked