Free Dry as Rain by Gina Holmes

least they couldn’t hear what we said.
    Danielle touched her neck, drawing my gaze to the creamy hollow beneath her ear I’d focused most of my kisses on the other night. “I hear Kyra’s doing okay.”
    Word certainly did travel fast. I forced my eyes off her skin. “She’s back home.”
    She threw a quick glance over her shoulder at the windows. The staff appeared busy and unaware. “That’s good news. Hey, if you don’t already have plans later—” she inched toward me—“I was thinking maybe I could buy you dinner this time. Soho’s downtown is supposed to be amazing.”
    It had suddenly gotten uncomfortably hot. I pulled at my collar and stepped back. “See, the thing is—”
    Before I could finish the sentence, Larry busted in. “Hey, ladies.” Beneath his glasses, his gaze barely brushed Danielle before taking on a hardness and settling on me. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need boss man here to okay a deal so I can close.”
    With her back to Larry, Danielle fingered the top button of her silk blouse, trying to draw my gaze to her cleavage. “Yea or nay on my proposal, Mr. Yoshida?”
    Perspiration dampened my hairline as I fought to keep my eyes off her intended target. Uncertain whether to dismiss her or Larry, I settled on the less volatile choice. “Larry, give us just a second.”
    He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb.
    Trying my best to intimidate my friend into saying uncle and leaving, I stared him down. The mule didn’t budge.
    I turned my attention back to Danielle. “Okay, we’ll talk then.”
    Relief filled her smile. Red lipstick boldly framed white teeth. “Wonderful.”
    Larry watched her leave, then turned around. “Man, what’s wrong with you?”
    I walked to my desk and sat down. “Back off, Larry. I’m trying to let her down easy.”
    With lips pressed so tight they puckered, he shook his head. “Let her down, eh? I thought you were innocent on all charges?”
    Out in the showroom, someone tested a car horn with two annoying beeps.
    I opened my desk drawer and rummaged through the pens, papers, and miscellaneous forms, pretending to search for something. I found an old Post-It with the work number of a client we’d sold an LS 600 to weeks before. Remembering that I’d already transferred the number to my computer database, I crumbled it and dropped it in the mesh wastebasket next to my desk. “I’m not in the mood.”
    â€œGood. Make sure you stay out of the mood.”
    I slammed the drawer shut, catching a paper in limbo. I yanked the knob and shoved the paper all the way in. “I thought you came in here to run a deal by me?”
    With arms still crossed, he now stood with his legs spread in a wide stance, looking like a nightclub bouncer. “You think you’re the only one around here who knows how to make things up?”
    Why wouldn’t he give it a break already? “What do you want?” An untouched copy of the Everson Times lay on the corner of my desk. I slid it over as though I intended to read it. After staring at it a moment, I realized it was upside down. I flipped it over and snapped it open.
    Naturally, he didn’t take the hint. “I’m just looking out for you, man. Someone has to since you’re doing such a sloppy job of it.” His tone softened. “How’s Kyra?”
    I lowered my paper and stared at a patch of razor burn dotting his cheek, unsure how to answer. She’s great except she doesn’t remember that she hates me. “Confused.”
    â€œI know she was , but I thought that doctor said she got her memory back.”
    Not having read the first page of the paper, I turned to the second. The headline stated, Children of Broken Homes More Likely to Try Drugs. I folded the paper and tossed it on my desk. “Not all of it.”
    When