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Power Play. Nancy WarrenЧитать онлайн книгу.

Power Play - Nancy Warren


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which she was pretty sure had an alcohol content that would rival Screech rum.

      On Emily’s other side was a woman in her early twenties who was a friend of Leanne’s. Emily had met Kirsten Rempel a few times and liked her a lot. She was pretty, fun and smart, but she’d had some bad career luck. A cute blonde with lots of energy, Kirsten had moved to Elk Crossing to work in promotions at the local radio station. Unfortunately, she relocated for the job before discovering that the radio station manager was a sexist boor. She’d lasted three months, and since then had been making her living as a hostess and server at one of two upscale restaurants in town.

      Everyone had expected her to move on, but she seemed to have got stuck in this town. Now she was waitressing to bring in some money and dating a guy nobody thought was good enough for her. He also had a bad habit of letting her down, like tonight, so she was here alone.

      Emily was happy to have Kirsten to talk to since it gave her a break from Buddy.

      “How are things?”

      “Good.” Her blond hair swung as Kirsten leaned forward. “The restaurant’s okay, but I need to find something else.” There was something about the way she spoke that made Emily wonder if she’d still be giving the same speech ten years from now. It happened to people sometimes in Elk Crossing. They came here and sort of got pulled into the town and couldn’t seem to get it together to move on.

      She almost wished she’d had some of Uncle Bill’s “wine” so she’d have the courage to give this woman she barely knew a little pep talk. Not only was she in a dead end job but even Emily, who didn’t live here, knew her so-called boyfriend was far from faithful. And given that Kirsten was far too good for him, it drove her crazy.

      Somebody challenged Derek to a drinking game and Kirsten cried, “No, they should play Newlywed Game.”

      Then she put on her radio announcer’s voice, her whole body coming to life as she got into her role. “Now, Derek and Leanne, you’ll be asked a series of questions about each other. We’ll be able to tell if you’re truly compatible, if your love is the real thing, if your marriage will last, based on how much you know—or think you know—about each other.”

      A great deal of laughter and hooting accompanied the questions Kirsten came up with. “What is Derek’s favorite kitchen appliance, and why?”

      Naturally, Leanne had lots of help answering the question. “The vibrator is not a kitchen appliance, Don,” Kirsten reminded Derek’s friend. “You’re disqualified.”

      “She keeps it in her kitchen!” he yelled. “I’ve seen it.”

      “That was my cream whipper,” Leanne insisted, very red in the face.

      “Okay, okay,” Kirsten said when the catcalls had died down. “Here’s a serious question and no one but Derek can answer. What’s Leanne’s favorite movie?”

      “Star Wars,” he proclaimed.

      There was a burst of laughter. “That’s your favorite movie,” Leanne reminded him.

      “I thought it was yours, too.”

      “Nope.”

      “What is it, then?”

      “Gone with the Wind.”

      Derek was incensed. “You can’t say Gone with the Wind. Every chick says her favorite movie is Gone with the Wind. It’s like not having an opinion at all.”

      “Except that it really is my favorite movie. Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable? When he carries her up the stairs?” She sighed gustily, all the women at the table nodding in agreement. “Are you kidding me? You don’t see movies like that anymore.”

      “Know what my favorite movie is?” Buddy asked loudly, not seeming to realize the question-and-answer game was restricted to the bridal couple.

      “What?”

      “21.”

      Derek said, “Isn’t that the one about those MIT kids who clean up in Vegas?”

      “Yep. It’s based on a true story. These kids invented a system to win at the casinos using math. Brilliant.”

      “So, you’re a gambler?” Leanne asked.

      He shrugged. “I think above-average intelligence allows certain people to achieve above-average returns. I don’t call that gambling.” He slurred a little over his words.

      “How about you, Emily?” Derek wanted to know. “What’s your favorite movie?” She couldn’t help wondering if Derek was trying to pull her and Buddy into some kind of compatibility game. If so, she’d happily prove that she and the money-obsessed dentist couldn’t be more different.

      “My favorite movie is Wall Street. It’s about how greed destroys people.” She smiled demurely and sipped her water.

      Leanne pulled her aside, ostensibly to discuss bridal matters. “Wall Street? What is the matter with you? Sense and Sensibility is your favorite movie.”

      “Buddy’s getting on my last nerve. All he’s interested in is money. Who cares about his Mercedes Coupe? There’s more to life.”

      Leanne sighed. “He’s trying to impress you. I bet he’s a really nice guy once you get to know him.”

      “But not my type.”

      “I only want to see you as happy as I am with Derek.” She gave Emily a quick hug. “We all do.”

      “I know. And please don’t remind me I’m not getting any younger because your mom and mine already tag-teamed me on that one. Thirty-one is not exactly ancient. I’m picky, that’s all.”

      “I know.”

      Unfortunately, Buddy hadn’t listened when she’d tried to tell him that Uncle Bill’s homemade wine was about four hundred percent pure alcohol. Leanne had made her feel a little bad so she went and got him a coffee to go with his tiramisu. He ignored both and downed more of the red hooch, moving his chair closer to hers and slurring in her ear. Buddy was becoming an annoying drunk. The sooner he passed out the happier she’d be.

      But he didn’t pass out. He got…amorous.

      He moved his chair even closer so their knees butted against each other. She moved hers farther away so Kirsten could be forgiven for thinking she was making a pass.

      He put an arm around her, big and overwarm. She was sure she could feel his sweat through the wool of his jacket.

      She shifted so the arm fell off her and next thing his hand was on her thigh, making her thankful her temporary wardrobe was all wash and wear.

      Finally, obviously realizing he was being too subtle, he said to her, “Let’s you and me get out of here.”

      “I don’t think so.”

      “Come on, I want to show you something.”

      “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to see it.”

      He giggled. “You’re cute. Mature, I like that in a woman.”

      She glanced around with “help me” blazing from her eyes. No one seemed to notice or thought about rescuing her. No one. Leanne was too busy being in love with Derek, Kirsten was on her cell phone, presumably tracking down the whereabouts of her loser boyfriend, and everybody else was busy with their own affairs. Everyone except for her mother and father, who were watching Buddy hit on her with hope shining in their faces.

      “I really have to go now,” she said at last to Buddy. “I’ve got a headache.” Maybe it was rude to leave so early, but she had had enough. Perhaps because she was inherently polite, or maybe because her parents were watching, she added, “It was nice meeting y—”

      Her words were cut off by his mouth. His big, sloppy, wet, bad-red-wine-tasting mouth. He kissed her as though she were an air mattress he was


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