The Erotic Secrets of a French Maid Read Online Free Page B

than she'd ever be. She didn't want to ride on a man's coattails of financial success, or to feel inferior to him based on her earnings.
    And then there'd been the article about his brother's death. She knew something of bereavement from her childhood, when her father had died of a heart attack, and from her teen years, when her grandmother had died. Memories of those feelings didn't give her any clue of what to say to someone else experiencing grief, though: all she knew was that there were no words of comfort.
    She didn't know how to relate to a man like Russ Carrick. She didn't know how to read him. Didn't know how to anticipate his reactions like she would with a gooberish boy her own age.
    Page 15

    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    Still, he had a nice ass. And she liked his voice. His eyes. The width of his shoulders ...
    God, she'd love to have him pin her naked beneath him and—
    "Hey, Ems, whatcha doing?" her roommate, Daphne, said, sticking her head inside Emma's open doorway.
    "Nothing! Just thinking."
    Daphne came in and sat on the edge of the bed. Her highlighted blond hair looked freshly flatironed and sprayed, her eye makeup set to "evening." She was wearing a turquoise silk halter top and gold hoop earrings. "You're always thinking. Give it a rest, and come out with me and Derek."
    Emma grimaced. "And be the third wheel? No thanks."
    "We're meeting Josie and Ken at the Palomino bar, then going dancing. Come on, you might have fun!"
    "I'd really rather not. I want to keep studying the building codes." She patted the fat binder on her desk.
    Daphne blew a raspberry. "You never go out. How are you going to meet someone if you never go out?"
    "I don't want to meet someone right now. I've got other things to worry about, like finding a real job."
    Daphne rolled her eyes. "You're not going to miss out on a job opportunity by going out for one night."
    "It's just not my cup of tea."
    She shrugged and got up. "Have it your way. But socializing is good for job seekers, you know. Friends hooking you up with friends of friends who know the right people."
    "I'd love to schmooze my way into a job, but I'm no good at schmoozing, so why try? I have more faith in presenting a solid knowledge of building codes."
    "You don't give yourself enough credit. My friends all think you're charming. You could schmooze with the best."
    Emma perked up. "Who thinks I'm charming?"
    "All of them! And they don't understand why you stay home every night."
    Emma gave her a suspicious look. "I seriously doubt they spare a moment's thought for me."
    Daphne grinned. "Some of the guys do, believe me."
    "Mmm." Emma tried to sound uncaring but she was flattered, and it prompted her to share, "Someone asked for my number today."
    Daphne plopped back down on the bed. "Yeah? Who?"
    Emma shrugged. "An older guy, kind of geeky."
    Page 16

    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    Daphne wrinkled her nose. "Oh. Are you going to go out with him?"
    "I don't know."
    "What type of car does he drive?"
    Emma laughed. "A new Jaguar. He'd be glad to know you asked."
    "It's a valid question! You can tell a lot about a person by their car."
    "Can you?" she said, thinking of Russ's hybrid.
    "Well, not about you" Daphne said, waving away the comment. "A case of false advertising, there."
    Emma had bought her souped-up Honda from her brother, whose pregnant wife had demanded that the street racer be put out to pasture. It was a difficult and ornery car, with stiff shocks, a primer-coated hood and fender, and a frightening red button on the shift for setting off the nitrous system power booster.
    Emma expected that someday the car would run off with her like a spooked racehorse.
    Daphne added, "But I've always wondered if there's a secret wild side to you."
    "I doubt it," Emma said, with less than the ring of truth. She was too sensible to act on the impulses for spontaneous lunacy that