Words of Seduction Read Online Free Page B

man was going to help her out of this situation, but fortunately she had friends and they would come to her aid if she needed them. She knew she’d never be homeless.
    One of her best friends, Noreen Webster, had offered her a room in her three-story luxury town house, but Suzanne didn’t like that option. Noreen was still reeling from the demise of her marriage and dealing with her unstable sister. Then there was Claudia Madison, her other best friend. Suzanne loved her, but knew she could never live with her. She was too free-spirited forSuzanne’s more conservative ways. No, Suzanne knew she would have to find a way to survive on her own. And there was one thing she knew for sure. She didn’t need another man to cause trouble in her life. Once she found a way to get out of this mess she was moving away and starting over.
     
    The next morning Suzanne overslept. She hadn’t meant to. She was usually good at keeping to a schedule, but after staying up late last night thinking—or trying not to think—about Rick, the ringing of the alarm clock didn’t wake her but the phone did. She pounded the alarm with her fist then grudgingly picked up the receiver.
    “Where are you?” an anxious voice said. She recognized the formal Bostonian tone as her friend Noreen’s.
    She wiped sleep from her eyes. “What?”
    “Oh, don’t tell me you forgot it.”
    She sat up alarmed. “Forgot what?”
    “The book signing event.”
    Suzanne jumped up and swore. “That was today?”
    “Yes.”
    Suzanne swore again. The signing was a huge media event with more than twenty authors, including her friends. She glanced at the clock. She had two hours. One hour to get ready and another to get there. She would be cutting it close, but she could make it. “I’ll be right there.”
    “Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?”
    “No, I’ll be fine. See you soon.”
    Suzanne quickly changed into a pair of black tailored slacks and a white fitted shirt, then grabbed a bagelwith strawberry jam before racing out. But when she took a bite of her bagel some red jam dropped on her top so she had to rush back inside and change into a wrinkled blue blouse she didn’t have time to iron. An hour and fifteen minutes later, she raced through the mall, trying to find the author’s booth. The event, which was being sponsored by one of the largest book chains in the area and the local writers’ association, was an annual event that Suzanne had always attended, since the release of her novel four years earlier.
    Right outside the main bookstore, tables and chairs were arranged in a semicircle, sporting larger-than-life silhouette cutouts of fictional characters, several book displays and grinning authors sitting behind tables waiting to sign books. A long line of fans started to form. Book signings were not one of her favorite activities, but Suzanne knew that any amount of publicity would be better than none. She hated the lookie-loos who walked by slowly, just to look at her, and made comments such as:
    “She doesn’t look very much like her picture.”
    “I hated her book. I don’t know why it sold so well.”
    And sometimes men would approach with lame lines like “Hello my Nubian princess. I would like to make you my queen” and then slip their phone number to her, expecting her to call.
    And, naturally, every author at a book signing expected the following question:
    “Do you know where the bathroom is?”
    But Suzanne didn’t have time to worry about the headaches the day might bring, she needed to find her spot. Fortunately, one of the organizers, a heavyset mannamed Mr. Whimple who had a thin mustache and a fat bowtie, saw her first and led her to the right place. She sat down at the white covered table where stacks of her books sat off to the side with a supply of pens. She sank into the seat exhausted.
    “Are you okay?” Noreen said, coming up to her table with a worried look. Her brown eyes looked large behind her