Free Life Is A Beach (Mills & Boon Silhouette): Life Is A Beach / A Real-thing Fling by Pamela Browning Page A

true?”
    “I invited him. Not sure if he’ll be there tonight,” she hedged.
    Nate’s eyes twinkled. “He will be. I saw the way he looked at you the other morning.”
    “From your mouth to God’s ears,” Karma said, but Nate only laughed.
    “That’s my line,” he said, and it was true. Her uncle was always saying that.
    After she and Nate parted company at the corner, Karma walked slowly back to her office, wondering where would be the best place to hire a boat. She was still mulling this over as she climbed the stairs. The door swung open before she inserted her key.
    “Hi, Karma.” Jennifer, the same Jennifer who was eager to find a date who was husband material, had parked her sexy self in front of the TV in the alcove where clients were welcome to browse through videos of possible matches. “Aunt Goldy sent me over to take delivery of the couch and chairs for you, and I figured it’s a chance to check out new prospects. I’ve just met one, in fact.”
    “Oh?”
    “He said his name was Slade Braddock. He was looking for a psychological profile form and took one off your desk. I hope that’s okay.”
    Karma’s spirits fell. She wished she hadn’t missed him. “I guess it’s all right. Um, Jennifer, why aren’t you at work?”
    “I switched to the night shift.”
    “They have night shifts for ear piercers?”
    “Uh-huh. That’s when all the teenagers come in, and we’re having a special—two for the price of one.”
    “Twoears? You charge per ear?”
    Jennifer rolled her eyes. “No, silly. Two people for the price of one. You should come get your ears pierced while the sale’s on. Your belly button too. I’m not supposed to do belly buttons, but I’d make an exception for you.”
    Ouch! But, “I’ll think about it,” Karma said. To her dismay, the very video cassette that Jennifer now cradled in her eager little hands was labeled Slade Braddock, Client 1811.
    “This guy was soooo cool. I think I’ll pop this cassette in the VCR and see what he has to say.”
    “I haven’t edited it yet.”
    “I don’t care. Want to watch it with me?”
    Karma shook her head. “I’ve got things to do,” she said.
    Jennifer leaned forward, her breasts surging out of her vee neckline. They were conical in shape and tanned all over, at least from what Karma could see, which was considerable. Furthermore, it looked as if Jennifer had succeeded in her quest for artificial nipples. They were standing up straight and proud. Did guys really like that look? It seemed that as a matchmaker she ought to know such things.
    Jennifer noticed her scrutiny. “Yes, Karma, I did get them. Do you want to know where? I could—”
    “No, thanks,” Karma said hastily.
    Jennifer treated her to a knowing smile. “They’d help you in the guy department, believe me. By the way, I took a message for you.” She bounced over to the desk and ripped a pink message sheet off a pad. “The caller said she was your cousin Paulette. She said she was recently fired from her job in New York and wants you to call her back.”
    “Paulette? Call her back?” Despite Karma’s immediate sympathy for anyone who’d lost a job, this wasn’t anything she wanted to do. Paulette had been the butt of jokes from Karma and her sisters during their childhood. Karma knew she had never been completely forgiven for dipping the sleeping Paulette’s hand in a pail of warm water on the firstnight of sleep-away camp when they were both eight; Paulette had wet her bed, which was what Karma had been assured would happen. After that, Paulette’s nickname around camp had been P. P., which ostensibly stood for her initials, since her full name was Paulette Parham. But all the campers had known what the nickname really stood for, and the counselors probably did, too.
    “Come on, Karma, sit down and watch with me.” Jennifer tugged Karma into the alcove and pushed on her shoulders until she sat on the chair.
    “Roll tape,” Jennifer sang out as