The Fiancée Fiasco Read Online Free

forget." It really had. That was odd. Roseanne rose and folded her napkin onto the table. "I won't feel bad about leaving you with the dishes, seeing you've got help this evening."
    Sheryl grinned cheerfully. "Let me walk you to your car."
    As the women walked the front path to the street, Sheryl asked, "Who is this client you're going to sign up, anyway?"
    "No one I've mentioned before. It's all very sudden. I just met him yesterday and then George gave me this terrific idea of how to get my foot in the door." Roseanne grinned as she thought of how surprised Mr. Carruthers was going to be to find her black-pump-clad foot in his cast-iron doorway.
    "Well, take care." Sheryl pressed her cheek against Roseanne's. "And, I don't know if this makes sense to say, but 'have a good time.'"
    Roseanne barked out a laugh. "Oh, this is going to be very entertaining, if nothing else." The whole enterprise might consist of nothing more than a round trip to the Houston airport, but even that would be amusing, Roseanne thought. Yes, considering her plans for Mr. Carruthers, it should be most amusing indeed.
    ~~~
    An hour later, behind a rack of colorful postcards of Seattle, Roseanne peeked out at the waiting airport lounge. There was only one airline with flights this evening to Houston. Roseanne's good fortune included the fact that this airline only had two flights. Carruthers would either be on the eight o'clock or the ten-thirty. She'd bought tickets for both, just in case.
    Thank God for gold cards.
    She froze when she actually saw him, walking down the concourse toward the gate. Oh, my. The surge of adrenaline hitting her was stronger than she'd expected. There was nothing like a good hunt, but this one was more exciting than most. Not only were the stakes high, but also it would take more sheer chutzpah than Roseanne had ever before used.
    Burying her nose against a scene of Elliott Bay, she watched as Winthrop made his way past the metal detectors. The man in front of him had to get scanned head to toe by the over-sensitized instrument. The man behind him frantically emptied his pockets of change, but Winthrop sailed unconcernedly through, as if he hadn't expected the machine to give him the slightest problem. It didn't.
    Roseanne waited while he traded his ticket for a boarding pass. Meanwhile she glanced at the large clock on the wall across from her. Only ten minutes until the plane would start boarding.
    Carruthers found an empty chair in the lounge and seated himself heavily. All he was carrying was a bulky beige raincoat. Bending his head, he put one hand to the bridge of his nose and rubbed. He looked tired.
    Good, Roseanne thought. Exhaustion might lower his defenses.
    She replaced the postcard on the rack and pulled her suit jacket down over her hips. Time to move in for the kill.
    "Mr. Carruthers."
    He looked up at her in bald astonishment. "Miz Archer?"
    "I told you I'd get in touch before you left town." Roseanne took the empty seat to his right.
    He stared at her. "You did? But—here?"
    "There's the matter of that newspaper gossip problem you wanted taken care of," Roseanne gently reminded him.
    "Well, yeah, but..." Winthrop grunted and turned to face front. "There's nothing I can do about it. You and George were right."
    "Oh...that's not strictly true."
    She'd got his attention. His brows drew down the tiniest amount. Carruthers didn't give away much, but she was learning how to read the little he did show.
    "What do you mean?" he asked slowly.
    Roseanne flicked an imaginary piece of lint from her black pencil skirt. "Now, that all depends, Carruthers. On whether you're willing to make me a deal."
    He turned to raise a very suspicious eyebrow at her. "Such as?"
    "Such as: if I find a way to eradicate—forever—these rumors of a reunion with your ex-wife, will you sign a retainer agreement making CovMarch your corporate lawyer again?"
    He took in a deep breath. He let it out with something very strange, something