the blonde model.
“You'll have to leave Bridget, I've got
business to deal with.”
For the first time, Laura approved of the
crude tone of voice. There was an instant dislike for the woman who
flaunted herself across Dexter's desk, and from the look she was
now giving Laura, the feeling was mutual.
“Pooh, Dexter!” She pouted, producing full
red lips. “I've been looking so forward to spending some time with
you. Can't you cancel?”
“Goodbye Bridget.” Then, only because Laura
was watching intently, he added, “I'll call you.”
He immediately regretted it though as the
woman's face lit up tenfold. “Really? When?”
Sounding more aggravated than he pleased, he
growled, “When I've got the time.”
This seemed to appease the woman who smiled
happily and came over and planted a long wet kiss on his mouth.
Laura looked away, not sure why the sight was so unsettling.
At last the kiss ended and Bridget stalked
off proudly, angling Laura a look from the corner of her eye as she
left. Laura watched her leave, then turned her attention back to
his desk. Across from it, Dexter had put on his business armor once
more before dropping down into the oversized office chair behind
him. She couldn't help but smirk; a bright red smudge smeared his
otherwise perfect upper lip.
He noticed the glee in her eye. “What?”
Instead of answering, she reached over and
retrieved a tissue from a box on his desk. Her intention was too
simply hand it to him, but found herself instead leaning across the
polished wooden surface. Perplexed, he watched her movements
skeptically.
Then, unexpectedly, she reached up and wiped
the smear of lipstick from his startled lip. His reaction was
surprising, full of deride and disgust. With a jerk, his head
snapped back as if she had literally shocked him with an electric
current, his features scarred in revulsion.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Offended, she dropped her hand. “Your
girlfriend left a smear of lipstick.”
“She's not—” he snapped, then caught himself,
“—going to get away with that.”
Laura frowned, then sat back in her seat.
“For a girlfriend, you sure don’t treat her nicely.”
“And I suppose you are an expert in the field
of dating?” When she only made a face, he continued, “Too bad you
couldn't make a business out of it.”
“I happen to be very good at what I do. The
girls trust me, that's very important.” A thought occurred to her.
“Is that why you won't invest in my shelter. You think I can't do
the job?”
“Only where it comes to the financial
aspects.” Vividly relieved they were back on a subject he felt a
hundred percent more comfortable, he reached up and wiped
annoyingly at the smudge of lipstick. More so to rub away the feel
of Laura’s touch.
“I think I managed quite well at Bingo Night,
even if you won't admit it.”
“I have my doubts you could pull it off
again,” he mumbled more to himself, as he began concentrating on
the small book containing the inapt expenditures of her daily
accounts.
“Isn't coming here today a good financial
move?” Why was the need to have his approval so important?
He stopped reading long enough to look over
at her. “I'll give you that. It's about the only sane move you've
made.”
She sighed, giving up. What was the use? He
simply would not give her credit where credit was due. Instead she
sat back in her seat and observed him as he swiveled his oversized
chair around and faced a computer perched behind him. His dark
brooding face was immersed in the complicated program flickering
onto the monitor, leaving Laura an inconspicuous chance to study
his profile.
His scowl deepened as he stared in confusion
at the screen.
“What’s wrong? Is it that bad?”
He grunted, “Yes, but that isn’t the problem.
We had a new computer program installed on the mainframes
throughout the building and I’m still trying to get a grasp on
it.”
He reached for the phone and pressed
“You'll have to leave Bridget, I've got
business to deal with.”
For the first time, Laura approved of the
crude tone of voice. There was an instant dislike for the woman who
flaunted herself across Dexter's desk, and from the look she was
now giving Laura, the feeling was mutual.
“Pooh, Dexter!” She pouted, producing full
red lips. “I've been looking so forward to spending some time with
you. Can't you cancel?”
“Goodbye Bridget.” Then, only because Laura
was watching intently, he added, “I'll call you.”
He immediately regretted it though as the
woman's face lit up tenfold. “Really? When?”
Sounding more aggravated than he pleased, he
growled, “When I've got the time.”
This seemed to appease the woman who smiled
happily and came over and planted a long wet kiss on his mouth.
Laura looked away, not sure why the sight was so unsettling.
At last the kiss ended and Bridget stalked
off proudly, angling Laura a look from the corner of her eye as she
left. Laura watched her leave, then turned her attention back to
his desk. Across from it, Dexter had put on his business armor once
more before dropping down into the oversized office chair behind
him. She couldn't help but smirk; a bright red smudge smeared his
otherwise perfect upper lip.
He noticed the glee in her eye. “What?”
Instead of answering, she reached over and
retrieved a tissue from a box on his desk. Her intention was too
simply hand it to him, but found herself instead leaning across the
polished wooden surface. Perplexed, he watched her movements
skeptically.
Then, unexpectedly, she reached up and wiped
the smear of lipstick from his startled lip. His reaction was
surprising, full of deride and disgust. With a jerk, his head
snapped back as if she had literally shocked him with an electric
current, his features scarred in revulsion.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Offended, she dropped her hand. “Your
girlfriend left a smear of lipstick.”
“She's not—” he snapped, then caught himself,
“—going to get away with that.”
Laura frowned, then sat back in her seat.
“For a girlfriend, you sure don’t treat her nicely.”
“And I suppose you are an expert in the field
of dating?” When she only made a face, he continued, “Too bad you
couldn't make a business out of it.”
“I happen to be very good at what I do. The
girls trust me, that's very important.” A thought occurred to her.
“Is that why you won't invest in my shelter. You think I can't do
the job?”
“Only where it comes to the financial
aspects.” Vividly relieved they were back on a subject he felt a
hundred percent more comfortable, he reached up and wiped
annoyingly at the smudge of lipstick. More so to rub away the feel
of Laura’s touch.
“I think I managed quite well at Bingo Night,
even if you won't admit it.”
“I have my doubts you could pull it off
again,” he mumbled more to himself, as he began concentrating on
the small book containing the inapt expenditures of her daily
accounts.
“Isn't coming here today a good financial
move?” Why was the need to have his approval so important?
He stopped reading long enough to look over
at her. “I'll give you that. It's about the only sane move you've
made.”
She sighed, giving up. What was the use? He
simply would not give her credit where credit was due. Instead she
sat back in her seat and observed him as he swiveled his oversized
chair around and faced a computer perched behind him. His dark
brooding face was immersed in the complicated program flickering
onto the monitor, leaving Laura an inconspicuous chance to study
his profile.
His scowl deepened as he stared in confusion
at the screen.
“What’s wrong? Is it that bad?”
He grunted, “Yes, but that isn’t the problem.
We had a new computer program installed on the mainframes
throughout the building and I’m still trying to get a grasp on
it.”
He reached for the phone and pressed