place?"
"Thai."
He grimaced. "Your lips look like Melanie Griffith's."
"Thanz."
"Okay, I won't make you talk. Just come to the boardroom and point to whichever sofa bed you want. They're going fast."
She smiled—at least she meant to—and followed him in the direction of the boardroom, gingerly touching her lips and testing her tongue against the roof of her mouth. It all felt like a big, pulpy mass. En route, Clancy made an appreciative sound in his throat. She looked up to see a sandy-haired uniformed APS deliveryman coming their way, and she assumed it was the same guy that the girls had been salivating over. From the look of the young man's gear—back support harness, padded gloves, and thick-soled shoes—he was prepared for just about any maneuver, although she rather doubted that delivering packages in Midtown was all that dogged. Still, the accessories were... effective.
He gave her a friendly nod, then turned his attention to Clancy. "Ms. Campbell isn't in her office, and her secretary isn't around, either. Will you sign for this?"
"Gladly," Clancy purred.
Belinda pressed her lips together to hide a smile, but that hurt, so she just stood there and looked at the ceiling.
"Hello."
She looked back to find the well-equipped delivery-man smiling at her.
Clancy glanced up and frowned. "Oh. Hank Baxter, this is Belinda Hennessey."
"Hi," she managed to vocalize on an expelled breath.
"Are you new here?"
She touched her mouth and looked to Clancy for help.
He sighed. "Belinda had a skirmish with Thai food today. She's been here a couple of months, but Margo keeps all the pretty ones hidden away."
"Too bad," Hunky Hank said with a grin.
"Here." Clancy slapped the guy's clipboard against his chest and snatched the envelope out of his hand. "I'll make sure Margo gets the package."
Hank nodded. "Nice to meet you, Belinda."
Clancy stared openly at the man's ass as he walked away, then turned back and made a rueful noise. "Why are all the good ones straight?"
She barely heard him because she was trying to steal a look at the return address on the overnight letter packet. When Clancy caught her, she blushed. He shrugged and held up the brightly colored envelope. "Looks like something from Payton—this could be the big day."
The food in her stomach seemed to reignite. The big day. The big deal. The big promotion. The big lie.
"I'll drop this on Margo's desk later. Come on, let's tag you a sofa. Mr. Archer wants these things out of the boardroom pronto. Apparently he caught someone taking a nap in here."
She frowned. "A nap?"
He leaned close. "I heard it was Tal. Must be tough on Mr. Archer having such a loser for a son."
She was glad they had reached the boardroom, because she didn't want to get caught up in the melodrama of the grapevine. She had enough on her mind, struggling with the decision of spending her ill-gotten raise before she even ill-got it.
"They're all nice sofas," he said, sweeping his arm wide. "Nicer than anything Archer makes, that's for damn sure. I bought the gray striped one for my den, and the brown plaid is already spoken for."
"Rosemary?"
"Uh-huh."
That left a cream overstuffed model with high arms, a cobalt blue contemporary couch with lime green pillows, a sleek black armless model, and, Belinda's pie-in-the-sky favorite, a red leather beauty, with deep seating and flared arms. A sound of longing escaped her throat.
"Isn't it decadent?" Clancy breathed.
"Mm."
"Let's unfold it," he suggested. They removed the sumptuous red leather cushions, and Belinda was amazed at how easily the queen bed opened.
"Give it a bounce," Clancy said.
She did, and found that the firmness rivaled her own bed. She lay back and closed her eyes, giving in to the fantasy of entertaining a lover on her pull-out red leather couch. God help her, she wanted it. Badly.
"How muth?" she asked, wishing she could feel her teeth.
"Fifteen hundred."
She winced and sat up.
"It's a four-thousand-dollar
"Thai."
He grimaced. "Your lips look like Melanie Griffith's."
"Thanz."
"Okay, I won't make you talk. Just come to the boardroom and point to whichever sofa bed you want. They're going fast."
She smiled—at least she meant to—and followed him in the direction of the boardroom, gingerly touching her lips and testing her tongue against the roof of her mouth. It all felt like a big, pulpy mass. En route, Clancy made an appreciative sound in his throat. She looked up to see a sandy-haired uniformed APS deliveryman coming their way, and she assumed it was the same guy that the girls had been salivating over. From the look of the young man's gear—back support harness, padded gloves, and thick-soled shoes—he was prepared for just about any maneuver, although she rather doubted that delivering packages in Midtown was all that dogged. Still, the accessories were... effective.
He gave her a friendly nod, then turned his attention to Clancy. "Ms. Campbell isn't in her office, and her secretary isn't around, either. Will you sign for this?"
"Gladly," Clancy purred.
Belinda pressed her lips together to hide a smile, but that hurt, so she just stood there and looked at the ceiling.
"Hello."
She looked back to find the well-equipped delivery-man smiling at her.
Clancy glanced up and frowned. "Oh. Hank Baxter, this is Belinda Hennessey."
"Hi," she managed to vocalize on an expelled breath.
"Are you new here?"
She touched her mouth and looked to Clancy for help.
He sighed. "Belinda had a skirmish with Thai food today. She's been here a couple of months, but Margo keeps all the pretty ones hidden away."
"Too bad," Hunky Hank said with a grin.
"Here." Clancy slapped the guy's clipboard against his chest and snatched the envelope out of his hand. "I'll make sure Margo gets the package."
Hank nodded. "Nice to meet you, Belinda."
Clancy stared openly at the man's ass as he walked away, then turned back and made a rueful noise. "Why are all the good ones straight?"
She barely heard him because she was trying to steal a look at the return address on the overnight letter packet. When Clancy caught her, she blushed. He shrugged and held up the brightly colored envelope. "Looks like something from Payton—this could be the big day."
The food in her stomach seemed to reignite. The big day. The big deal. The big promotion. The big lie.
"I'll drop this on Margo's desk later. Come on, let's tag you a sofa. Mr. Archer wants these things out of the boardroom pronto. Apparently he caught someone taking a nap in here."
She frowned. "A nap?"
He leaned close. "I heard it was Tal. Must be tough on Mr. Archer having such a loser for a son."
She was glad they had reached the boardroom, because she didn't want to get caught up in the melodrama of the grapevine. She had enough on her mind, struggling with the decision of spending her ill-gotten raise before she even ill-got it.
"They're all nice sofas," he said, sweeping his arm wide. "Nicer than anything Archer makes, that's for damn sure. I bought the gray striped one for my den, and the brown plaid is already spoken for."
"Rosemary?"
"Uh-huh."
That left a cream overstuffed model with high arms, a cobalt blue contemporary couch with lime green pillows, a sleek black armless model, and, Belinda's pie-in-the-sky favorite, a red leather beauty, with deep seating and flared arms. A sound of longing escaped her throat.
"Isn't it decadent?" Clancy breathed.
"Mm."
"Let's unfold it," he suggested. They removed the sumptuous red leather cushions, and Belinda was amazed at how easily the queen bed opened.
"Give it a bounce," Clancy said.
She did, and found that the firmness rivaled her own bed. She lay back and closed her eyes, giving in to the fantasy of entertaining a lover on her pull-out red leather couch. God help her, she wanted it. Badly.
"How muth?" she asked, wishing she could feel her teeth.
"Fifteen hundred."
She winced and sat up.
"It's a four-thousand-dollar
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