Free Mr Perfect by Linda Howard Page A

warmth into her voice. "I'd like the company." If she were Catholic, she'd definitely have to confess that one; it was an even bigger whopper than saying her father didn't know anything about cars.
    Leah got her nutritious, attractive meal arranged and sat down at the table. She took a small bite of the sandwich and chewed daintily, blotted her mouth, then ate an equally small spoonful of soup, after which she blotted her mouth again. Jaine watched, mesmerized. She imagined the Victorians must have had the same table manners. Her own manners were good, but Leah made her feel like a barbarian.
    After a moment Leah said, "I suppose you saw that disgusting newsletter yesterday."
    Disgusting was one of Leah's favorite words, Jaine had noticed.
    "I assume you mean that article," she said, because it seemed pointless to dance around. "I glanced at it. I didn't read the entire thing."
    "People like that make me ashamed to be a woman." Well, that was going a little too far. Jaine knew she should leave it alone, because Leah was Leah and nothing was going to change her. But some little demon inside – okay, the same demon that always prompted her to open her mouth when she should keep it shut – made her say, "Why is that? I thought they were honest."
    Leah put down her sandwich and gave Jaine an outraged look. "Honest? They sounded like whores. All they wanted in a man was money and a big… a big…"
    "Penis," Jaine supplied, since Leah didn't seem to know the word. 'And I don't think that was all they wanted. I seem to remember something about fidelity and dependability, sense of humor – "
    Leah dismissed that with a wave of her hand. "Believe that if you want, but the entire point of the whole article was sex and money. It was obvious. It was also vicious and cruel, because just think how it made men who didn't have a lot of money and a big… thing – "
    "Penis," Jaine interrupted. "It's called a penis." Leah pressed her lips together. "Some things aren't meant to be discussed in public, but I've noticed before you have a potty mouth."
    "I do not!" Jaine said heatedly. "I admit I swear sometimes, but I'm trying to stop, and penis isn't a dirty word; it's the correct word for a body part, just like saying 'leg.' Or do you have an objection to legs, too?"
    Leah gripped the edge of the table with both hands, holding so tightly her knuckles turned white. She took a deep breath. "As I was saying, think how it made those men feel. They must think they aren't good enough, that they're somehow inferior."
    "Some of them are," Jaine muttered. She should know. She had been engaged to three of the inferior ones, and she wasn't thinking about their genitals, either. "No one should be made to feel that way," Leah said, her voice rising. She took another bite of sandwich, and Jaine saw, to her surprise, that the other woman's hands were shaking. She was genuinely upset.
    "Look, I think most people who read the article thought it was funny," she said in a conciliatory tone. "It was obviously meant to be a humorous piece."
    "I don't feel that way at all. It was filthy, ugly, and mean- spirited."
    So much for conciliation. "I don't agree," Jaine said flatly, gathering up her trash and depositing it in a can. "I think people see what they expect to see. Someone who's mean expects others to be just as mean, the way people with dirty minds see smut everywhere."
    Leah went white, then red. "Are you saying I'm dirty- minded?"
    "Take it any way you like." Jaine went back to her office before their little disagreement escalated into open warfare. What was wrong with her lately? First her neighbor, and now Leah. She didn't seem able to get along with anyone, not even BooBoo. Of course, no one got along with Leah, so she didn't know if that should count, but she was definitely going to make a bigger effort to get along with Sam. So he rubbed her the wrong way; she had evidently been doing a good job of rubbing him the wrong way, too. The problem was,