Free Knock Off by Rhonda Pollero

me?”
    “Yes. Meet me tomorrow morning outside the gym. I should be finished by seven.”
    “A-freaking-M?”
    “Do you want my help or not?”
    “Of course, thank you. I’ll be there. I’ll be the one in the slippers and jammies.”
    “Suck it up,” Jane joked. “See you in the morning. Say hi to Patrick for me.”
    It was nearing quitting time, so I started packing up the estate accounting for my predawn meeting with Jane. I needed to be out the door of the office at the stroke of five.
    Then I’d have plenty of time to shower, shave my legs, and glue a spare rhinestone on my cute new shoes before I went to Patrick’s place.
    At precisely 4:59, my phone rang. It was probably Stacy Evans, and I really debated the pros and cons of answering it. The biggest con of ignoring her was the very real possibility that she’d complain to Vain Dane and my ass would end up in a sling. I’d just have to shave fast.
    “Finley Tanner.”
    “Hi.”
    The sound of Liam’s deep, sensuous voice tickled my ear. “H-hello.”
    “I’ve got something for you.”
    His voice faded in and out, and I could make out the sounds of wind and traffic. He must be on a cell. “Great.
    We can meet—”
    “I think you’re going to want to see this ASAP.”
    “What is it?”
    “Report on the car and a pretty—” the rest of his words were unintelligible.
    “You’re breaking up. Are you on your way to drop it off here?”
    “I’ve got a thing,” he said.
    I stifled the urge to tell him to stick his thing in his ear.
    “I’ll drop it by your place—”
    “I’m not going to be home this evening,” I cut in. I didn’t tell him I had a date, but for the life of me, I didn’t know why I was keeping it a secret.
    “First thing in the morning, then,” he countered.
    “I’ve got an early meeting.”
    “I’ve got the stuff with me now. I’ll be at the Blue Martini from six until about nine. Can you stop by?”
    He left me no choice, damn it. His “thing” was at one of the biggest pickup bars in City Place? So he’s a player, eh?
    So much for the leisurely bath. I calculated time in my head. If I leave now, I’ve got just enough time to get home, shower, dress, fix my shoe, swing by the Blue Martini, and still make it to Patrick’s place before six thirty-one.
    Maybe. Hopefully.
    Traffic screwed me. I raced into my apartment, dress and shoes in hand. Dropping my shoes on the bed, I hung the dress over the hook on the back of my bathroom door and turned on the shower. The steam would smooth any wrinkles, and right then I was in serious need of multi-tasking.
    I fumbled around on the top shelf of my closet, finally finding my box of treasures. Because of my forced foray into the world of factory damage, I keep a box of buttons, ribbons, stones, and other assorted items for emergency repairs. Luckily, I had a rhinestone that would work. It wasn’t perfect—the stone had a slight pink cast to it—but it would have to do.
    My trusty glue gun—the woman’s duct tape—was
    under the sink. I plugged it in, then found a clip for my hair while the glue stick heated. So far, so good.
    I secured the stone in place, then cursed when the glue oozed on to my thumb. That was going to leave a mark.
    Wounded thumb and all, I managed to shower, dress, and run a flat-iron through my hair in record time. I should have been thinking about Patrick, but, honestly, Liam’s sexy voice kept running through my head. No matter how fast I went, I was running behind. I hopped from foot to foot, tugging on my sandals while I hunted down my favorite Kate Spade Wristlet bag. I spent a few extra minutes I didn’t really have applying my makeup, wondering just who the hell I was trying to impress. Then I transferred my license, money, cell phone, a credit card, and my lipstick into my purse. The Kate Spade was cute, but it didn’t hold all that much. It was a fashion-over-function thing, but I was fine with that.
    As I went to grab my keys off the