Free Bride by the Book (Crimson Romance) by Kathryn Brocato Page A

new people and learn how to have fun. She would not think about her escort as anything but a business colleague.
    Thoughts of Garner led her to wonder if he thought she was going to bow to his dictates out of respect for Cliff’s feelings. If so, he had a lot to learn, especially when she began the process of upgrading his computer system. As she ate her scrambled eggs, she thought about what system would best answer a small-town lawyer’s needs.
    “I’ve even been known to take candy out of babies’ mouths,” Garner said in sinister tones. “Our first step in bringing you up to par, my dear Miss Brownwood, is to put you on a suitable exercise program. My personal research shows that if you’re tired from plenty of physical exercise, you’ll sleep well at night.”
    “An exercise program.” Angie repeated those words in the same way she’d have said, 'Slimy, loathsome snake.’ “Are you talking about signing away my life’s savings at one of those silly gyms full of space-age machines? No. Absolutely not.”
    “I don’t blame you in the least,” Garner said smoothly. “Fortunately for you, Smackover doesn’t have a gym like that or I’d sign you up tomorrow. Therefore, we’re going to embark on a much simpler program. One that won’t cost you much beyond a good pair of jogging shoes.”
    “
Jogging shoes
! No way,” Angie said. “I was the only person in my office who never owned a pair of jogging shoes, and I’m not about to break that record.”
    “Come on, Angie,” Garner said, grinning wickedly. “Even Cliff owns a pair of jogging shoes. He never wears them, except to meetings of the Accountants’ Society in Little Rock once a year, but at least he owns them.”
    Angie felt the impact of his smile all the way to her toes. She bit her lip and focused her attention on her plate. Her professional standards were going to be in deep trouble if she didn’t get hold of herself right away.
    “A man has to maintain his image, even if it’s totally false.” Cliff sawed away determinedly at the chicken breast on his plate. “All the big city accountants wear them so they can walk to work.”
    “Really?” Angie glanced out the window at the sidewalk. “I walked to work this morning with no trouble.”
    “That’s another thing,” Garner said. “You don’t need to wear high heels to work in my office, for Pete’s sake. I’m a small-town lawyer, not a high-rise corporate attorney.”
    “I, too, have a professional image to maintain,” Angie said, with great dignity. “If you want to wear jeans and cowboy boots, that’s your prerogative. But kindly don’t think you’re going to dictate my office attire.”
    Garner turned his head to stare dangerously into Angie’s unconcerned face. “Angie, you will no longer wear high heels to work. Is that clear? You’ll ruin your feet.”
    Angie continued to eat with placid enjoyment. A woman who had faced down Vernon Brownwood’s vitriolic rages did not find mere cold stares intimidating at all. “Sorry, Boss. Those orders don’t compute. If you don’t want me telling you what to wear to court, you’ll allow me to dress as I please, so long as I don’t violate any professional standards.”
    Garner looked both nonplussed and annoyed. “Angie, I don’t want to see you at work in those high heels. As soon as you’re through eating, I’m driving you home so you can change.”
    “No, you’re not. Those shelves are due to arrive, and I’m going to be there when they bring them in,” Angie said in blissful unconcern. “Besides, I don’t own another pair of shoes that’ll match this outfit.”
    Garner leaned back, looking exasperated. “In that case, I’ll buy you a pair of pink jogging shoes. Would you like white and blue pairs as well?”
    Angie chuckled appreciatively. “That would be a good start. Fashion considerations are about the only factors that would make me consider buying a pair of jogging shoes.”
    She scrubbed the